Gert Strydom, 12 września 2013
Moments with you I cannot forget,
where I do know about the depths of our love
and in the silences that hang between us
unspoken words are caught
and sometimes just as a child
you have got to find your own words
and discover each other like strangers
and go together to an unknown place
to get a deepening there,
to find a stronger binding of you and I.
Gert Strydom, 11 września 2013
That an end must come
to the love between us,
that in death we will not miss each other,
not even will know about flowers blooming
and that every human being and all living things
with time will perish,
that all sheer joy and pain
and the things to which a person strives a life long
at a time will go to naught,
is knowledge of which I have got to take heed
but still I do know that God holds everything in His hand
and He writes down every person’s character and humanity
with His almighty pen
until the day when even the elements will burn
and I know that He is beginning a new world
with each and every wonderful and lovely thing.
Gert Strydom, 11 września 2013
Tonight the sea is tranquil
and in the distance
the lights of the lighthouse flashes
and is gone
and the nearby Warf is still
while near the horizon a ship moves on
and cars move high up on the hill.
Far away over the sea
there are places
where I have never been
and continents and countries
that I have never seen
and at their set rhythm and time
the waves rushes in
and thunder on the big rocks
as they have from the begin
and yet like a grain of sand
I remain in God’s almighty hand.
Gert Strydom, 10 września 2013
Maybe you will still love me
when I die, when I loose all life
and lie under the dark lumps of sand
and become part of the earth
and maybe someone will say later
that nothing could curtail our love
that we did love each other
like no others could.
Gert Strydom, 10 września 2013
(after N.P. van Wyk Louw)
In a moment my humanity
wants to come to you
and now so suddenly,
let out and tell real things
which make other people numb
and does astonish them
and talk about painful never told things,
have a conversation about the matters
that lies deep in the heart,
speak about things that we might want different,
about things that other people would rather avoid
but when the moon outside rises snow-white,
when the doves at sunset still do coo,
when the smell of flowering jasmine is on the air,
then for moments I do feel stupid
while frequently you gazing loving at me.
[Reference: “Grense” (borders) by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
Gert Strydom, 9 września 2013
I do not know why without any cause
you let a barrier, some impediments arise,
why you want to flee away from me
and lash out when I do not deserve
any kind of pain or a scolding?
Truth be told you do hold me dear
but at times act lowly when I am near
and I do wonder about the reasons in your heart,
if you truly at times want to cause us to part?
As a guest, at times I do not feel worthy to be near
and you above all other things I still hold dear
and sometimes at night awake I do lie
while the daily happenings again passes me by,
knowing that love is such a brittle, fragile thing.
Gert Strydom, 9 września 2013
Somewhere a window rattles
from the rainy wind
and even the lightning bolts sound sad
but you have moved on
and incomprehension comes with a cold anguish.
Gert Strydom, 9 września 2013
You are gone from me
while the jacarandas are flowering purple-blue
and the reasons why echoes through my mind
while my days are running empty
and I aim on through the streets
but somewhere I have got to stand still.
Gert Strydom, 6 września 2013
On a road near a place called Hotazel
there were no trees,
just the flat openness of the great Karoo
and semi-acrid no stream
crossed that big open plain
and in this flat desolate piece of land
I saw a man on a bicycle pedalling on obscurely
right into the distance
engulfed by the shivering heat
looking like plates of water
and some crows with white breasts
flew past croaking
and it was just a white-hot sun
in a blue open sky.
[Reference: Karoo: “a semi-desert plateau region in southern South Africa.”]
Gert Strydom, 6 września 2013
Sometimes I visit in absence the Highveld
and in my thoughts
are jumping from rock to rock
where aloes flower orange,
where I smell the fragrances of the Proteas,
are walking in knee-high grass
and I am there in lingering moments.
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