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Poezja

	Gert Strydom
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (13) Poezja (1888) Proza (37) Fotografia (5)

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Gert Strydom, 28 lutego 2012

On that sunny golden morning (Flying Bird sonnet)

On that sunny golden early morning
while the beautiful flowers of the spring
were opening and were suddenly flowering
closer to each other they were moving

in the field, under the sky in the hay
intimately did with each other play
to each other they were really hooked
while the day had a somewhat bright outlook
and from each other they looked away
early on a sunny glorious day.

While little birds were nearby chirping
they heard an enchanting small cuckoo sing
their intimate affections were stirring
content and spent the day was a blessing

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Gert Strydom, 28 lutego 2012

The tree (Rime Royal sequence)

Sitting still in the cool welcoming shade
of a natural place where things do thrive
enjoying the peace the shadow has made
it adds to the sheer quality of life
and I wonder how it does survive?
Against the thick trunk I have set the spade;
nothing, no argument can persuade

me different, while I think of good things
which brings some old memories back to me
I hear a myriad of small birds that sing
as if this is how things have got to be,
I am happy, feel wonderment and glee,
a kind of serenity that comes unseen
as if this is how life had once been.

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Gert Strydom, 27 lutego 2012

The farmer’s bride (cavatina sequence) (in answer to Charlotte Mew)

There was a farmer’s wife, who was afraid
every day,
was driven wild with unmentioned fear;
always away
she was hidden beyond some lock and key,
never was gay
but doves gathered at her window sill,
many birds fluttered near at her will.

Without much love she was driven to work,
once she did flee
with the farmer and his labourers searching;
she was happy
while she was hiding in the large cornfield,
was from fear free,
later sneaked into the nearest church,
while drunk from the bar her husband did lurch.

Like a small animal she was hiding,
the minister
prayed for her but then took her back home,
quite sinister
acted the farmer as he whipped her,
did register
her into a lunatic asylum
and of his actions that was the sum.

The magpie’s feathers did lie in her room
and she was gone
as if she had suddenly taken flight,
had moved on,
one day to a much better loving world,
but all alone
until his sudden death the farmer was,
they found him deep in a field of green grass.

[Reference:”The Farmer’s Bride” by Charlotte Mew.]

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Gert Strydom, 27 lutego 2012

About a girl called Marike (cavatina sequence)

She thought: He truly cares for me, saw eyes
full of worry,
while the affairs of state weighed him down;
like a lorry
his frame was broad; he could take all the strain,
she was sorry
for him, helped him wherever she could,
only acted like a first lady should.

Far too selfless she loved him, in his shade
she spent her life,
walked the streets to win him some voters,
in times of strive
she supported, caressed, was with him,
she was alive
in his presence, was proud of his career,
she wanted always to him to be near

but a dark day came that every headline
told about him
and his lovely, lively, foreign mistress;
her life was dim
while he rode the wave of self-centred fame;
over the brim
her tears, her sorrow, suffering did flow;
but he was not the great man she did know.

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Gert Strydom, 27 lutego 2012

An ex-princess among real men (cavatina sequence)

(after Fleur Adcock)

She is constantly in the press flash light,
but tries to find
a kind of inner peace, some real meaning,
and hide behind
dark glasses, magazines, dark windows;
but in her mind
is turmoil, as she is being ignored;
with all her life she is very bored.

Her husband is daily playing the rich prince,
do not have time
to spend with her, is busy with horses
and is begrime,
he visits his married mistress daily,
he acts sublime
with affairs of business or state
and he forces her for attention to wait.

Of all her prince’s inconsistencies
she is aware,
as a kind of exile, beyond a mask,
she still does dare
to choose her lovers, from real solid men
with utter care,
among tank commanders, paratroopers
and businessmen; avoiding snoopers.

When she finds a man of confidence
she gets astride,
loosen her fair hair and gets very wild,
shyness aside
she sucks at tongue, member, bite earlobe,
open up wide
to extreme intimacy with flaming eyes
that is bluer than cobalt skies

and if you think that I am only writing
of one woman,
then you have got it extremely wrong;
as long as man
does disregard, does exile his princess,
then if she can
someone else will entice her in joy,
even if it does her whole life destroy.

[Reference: “The Ex-queen among the Astronomers” by Fleur Adcock.]

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Gert Strydom, 24 lutego 2012

I had been to this sea sometime before (Catena Rondo)

I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
it had been on a tranquil summer day,
I had been to this sea sometime before

where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
while a tiny boat rocks upon the wake
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,

the surge swells before it crushing breaks
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
before deeper in the water we both dare,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks

with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
while you smile in a way that I adore
we hear the thundering on a distant shore
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere

while you smile in a way that I adore,
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
trying to find a way back, a way to go,
while you smile in a way that I adore

we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while still together we do struggle on
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow

it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are trying to get back, to be free,
it feels if our world is suddenly gone

while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
hear the engine of a fishing boat run
while we do see only the sky and sea,

we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
as we both stagger out upon a beach
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,

as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently;
a rich boat owner looks at you, smiles at me,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,

we embrace and you stroke my hair gently,
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
but still we are in a world our very own
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently

we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
I had been to this sea sometime before,
while we kiss each other and kiss some more;
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,

I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
it had been on a tranquil summer day;
I had been to this sea sometime before.

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Gert Strydom, 24 lutego 2012

An annoyed plover (Burns Stanza / standard habbie)

Fluttering with a broken wing
or diving with a voice that ring,
like a mad little flying thing
a plover bombards me,
before again it is rising
trying to make me flee

and I am astounded by it
drawing me away bit by bit
or in anger catching a fit
as I near the small nest,
falling down as if it is hit;
to be leaving seems best.

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Gert Strydom, 24 lutego 2012

To the summer sun (Collins Sestets)

Her sheer loveliness is incomparable,
her close presence is so very able
to outstrip the pain, darkness of the soul,
daily she brings great joy, she makes me whole
and her impact is totally sublime,
as if she goes pass the bonds of time.

Her voice is extremely musical
bringing joy at times that is critical
as she enters with a shadowed footfall
draws shapes and are present on the wall
and her impact is totally sublime,
as if she goes pass the bonds of time.

She comes like the notes of a lost song
with a kind of beauty that brings no wrong,
making birds and insects utter their joy
while only great goodness she does employ
and her impact is totally sublime,
as if she goes pass the bonds of time.

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Gert Strydom, 22 lutego 2012

Early morning when the first rays fall (pantoum sonnet)

Early morning when the first soft rays fall,
when the awakening sun hangs blood red
this part of the great universe recall,
the awakening has been acquired

when the awakening sun hangs blood red
birds twitter with the jolly songs they sing,
the awakening has been acquired
as the good news of the morning they bring.

birds twitter with the jolly songs they sing
to and thro many insects and bees fly
as the good news of the morning they bring,
fluttering on flowers under the sky.

Early morning when the first soft rays fall,
this part of the great universe recall…

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Gert Strydom, 22 lutego 2012

A day with a new morn (luc-bat)

The wind whispers in rage
while with time I do age each day
when mere fate havoc play,
and I was on my way; was wet
the day that we had met,
my life was already set by grace
with a smile on your face,
we went to a new place for fun,
the day did just begun,
was hot with the bright sun, was fair
with colour in your hair,
a thing was in the air and gone,
like a sweet kind of tone
that had just moved on a page.