At Houtbay beach
A young girl and an old man
walk down steps
to the stretch
that the beach at Houtbay
throws against the sea.
There are some small fishing boats
in colours of blue,
orange and white
that sails into the sea,
but big white cabin cruisers
bobs up and down
next to the quay
some distance away
as if they are ownerless
while their bosses
play somewhere else.
The smell of sea-pike
roasting on coals
lies on the light wind
and their stomachs growl
of sudden hunger
and here and there
the girl stoops
to pick up shells.
His sturdy boots leaves flat tracts
on the firm sand
and there’s a brown wood walking stick
with a lion head in his hand
and the girl’s
bare foot tracts
run in advance.
The sea swishes in and out
and the wet sand
reflects a bright open day
and the blue water
stretches out
as far as you can see
and it’s as if he gets new power
next to the foaming water.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Alone on holiday away from you
White, red and yellow lilies
grow rampant and wild
next to the train tracts
between Somerset West
and the Strand
where I am on the train
from Bellville
and there’s a
white-hot sun that burns
high from above
and I can smell the sea
while I look
at the magical
dark blue water,
but you will not like
the cold water
and the light breeze
that blows today
and here and there
there are people
sending kites
into the air
and I see them
hanging flapping above
while a few
diving down with speed
and there’s sandpaper
in the beach wind
that hits me with sea sand
and the waves
rollick like wild horses
and in the distance
I see the road turning
past Gordonsbay
and I am alone on holiday
away from you.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Flick
The Flick
The blond girl had turned her back to the beach
head in hand her guitar flung aside, I think she
was crying. A man walked his dog another one
jogged, birds in V shape flew towards the eye of
the twilight; and no scientist saw the weeping girl.
Night, on a strand of sand that faced the mighty
Pacific Ocean I so often had crossed on my way
to the land of the setting sun. A girl alone and me
on a beach of forget us not, I walked over to tell
her go home; the girl was a heap of golden sand,
her fine guitar was flotsam of a blue fishing boat
and her bikini a tattered plastic shopping bag.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A walk along the beach
I see a ship
passing beyond the breakers
white on the top
and red at the bottom
and the sea is calm
and a light wind
is blowing on the beach.
Alone I walk
on the hot soft sand
looking for shells
but here and there
I find one that’s not broken
and walk on further
and further
almost as if following a track
that’s just out of reach.
Climbing down
a small cliff
I am suddenly on a seclude beach
and in the blinding light
shells are everywhere
and I know
that no one else
has been here.
Some are brittle
like the leaves of flowers
and others hard as rock
with orange and pink embouchures,
a scope of blues,
hazing mother of pearl
shimmering like a rainbow,
brittle green circles
with holes in the middle
and some are more pure white
than snow.
I pick a ransom up at dusk
and lay down on my back
and watch the sun
setting above the sea
and time trail from me.
I must have been stuck
in my own thoughts
and caught by the serenity
when suddenly I noticed
a beautiful naked girl
looking at me
with a kiss in her eyes
that penetrates into my soul.
Her eyes shining
with shivering iridescence
(just like mother of pearl)
and her teeth gleaming
whiter than anything.
The second kiss
is on my lips
and hot and sweet.
Some perfume
almost dazes my head
and her nipples brush
protruding against my cheek.
“You have beautiful shells, ”
a husky voice says
and no words can express
my thoughts
while I kiss her back.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The thunder cat
In the bush I see a strange thing,
a secret cat
that like a phantom
follow our tracts, shadowing behind
leaving no tracts of its own.
Red eyes glow at night
with the intensity of a fire burning
but every time that I really look
it’s out of reach.
Around the orange-yellow fire
where we are barbequing the meat
from the day’s hunting
I can almost smell the monster
where it sneaks out of sight
around us.
I wonder what has awaken
in the wild veldt, the jungle
and what hell of a thing
we now have drawn
from its sleep?
My.308 rifle and hunting knife
both lie near to my side,
but something let me comprehend
that no usual weapons
will stand against this monster
but at that time I am still convinced
that it’s only imagination
and the tiredness, the party
at the fire
and my thoughts are playing with me.
Totally unconcerned we go to sleep
and with time the flames
burn lower and lower
and there are only glowing coals left.
When I wake up with a start
a bright moon is in the sky
and something strange
stand over me
and it looks part transparent
but still with a fixed
dark form.
I can smell death
on the breath of it
and see its teeth glittering
and it’s as if thunder
flames from its jaws
when it bites at me
and an urge for survival
let me jump from the ground
to the other side
of the glowing coals
and its teeth clash on each other.
Next to me lies a shovel
and some of the coals
still have small flames
and I see that the coals
make it hesitate for a moment.
Desperately I grab the shovel,
scoop if full of coals
and when the monster
opens its jaws again
to take another bite at me
and I get the rotten smell
of its foul breath
I throw the whole shovel
down its throat.
For a moment it roars thundering,
is filled with bright white thunderbolts
and stand ablaze
and looks like a thunder cat
before it disappears into the darkness
and becomes nothing
as if suddenly it’s in another dimension
and everybody stares at me
with eyes huge as saucers
and from the sand
I pick up two teeth
that shines strangely, like diamonds,
but with an unknown blue-white fire
glowing from the inside.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Little Girl
Don’t fall little girl
Don’t let them see you cry
Stand tall little girl
Keep your head held high
~
Don’t express little girl
Don’t let them see the pain in your eyes
Walk on little girl
Walk through all those pitiful lies
~
Don’t forget little girl
Don’t let them do it to you once more
Protect yourself little girl
There’s plenty more in store
~
Don’t hate little girl
That’s what they want you to do
Smile bright little girl
Try you’re hardest to be true
~
Don’t wait little girl
The world will move on without you
Move on little girl
Do what you need to do
~
Don’t look back little girl
You cant change your past
Open your eyes little girl
Enjoy the world while it lasts
~
Live life little girl
Cause you only got one
Laugh loudly little girl
And put down you damn gun
~
You’re me little girl
Haven’t we learned a lot?
But your also them little girl
In each of us you have fought
~
Some call you hope, little girl
You glow dim then turn bright
Some call you dreams, little girl
Thinking of you every night
~
But to me, little girl
You will always just be me
Guide us, little girl
Cause we both just want to be free
poem by Amy Stuart
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China Girl
China girl, I met you in the sea sand
You touched me with your cool hand
Your perfumes in the wind
China girl, your daddy tells you white lies
To keep it from my blue eyes
To know me is no sin
Chorus:
And I wont break you, china girl
If you take me into your world
Its been my good fortune to find you
China girl
Stolen flowers, are the sweetest in the mornin
the eastern sun is dawnin
your silks against my skin
China girl, take me to your jasmine place
Cool me with your subtle grace
To know me is no sin
Chorus:
And I wont break you, china girl
If you take me into your world
Its been my good fortune to find you
China girl
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Run For Your Life (Take 1, Cha
Well, I'd rather see you dead, little girl,
Than to be with another man.
You better keep your head, little girl,
Or you won't know where I am.
You better run for your life if you can, little girl;
Hide your head in the sand, little girl;
Catch you with another man,
That's the end, little girl.
Well, you know that I'm a wicked guy
And I was born with a jealous mind
And I can't spend my whole life tryin'
Just to make you tow the line.
You better run for your life if you can, little girl;
Hide your head in the sand, little girl;
Catch you with another man,
That's the end, little girl.
Let this be a sermon,
I mean everything I've said.
Baby, I'm determined
That I'd rather see you dead.
You better run for your life if you can, little girl;
Hide your head in the sand, little girl;
Catch you with another man,
That's the end, little girl.
I'd rather see you dead, little girl,
Than to be with another man.
You better keep your head, little girl,
Or you won't know where I am.
You better run for your life if you can, little girl;
Hide your head in the sand, little girl;
Catch you with another man,
That's the end, little girl.
Na, na, na.
Na, na, na.
Na, na, na
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pearls Girl
Rioja. rioja. reverend al green.
Deep blue morocco. the water on stone.
The water on concrete. the water on sand.
The water on fire. smoke.
The wind. the salt. the bride boat coming.
Dave in the water. old man.
Einstein on top of his house. white deep blue
Andalusia red yellow red yellow black car.
Red light. far. black place. walls. blue chair.
Morocco. hamburg. paris.
The pieces of the puzzle are waiting.
The water of the dark boats gliding.
The bride boats gone out to sea and
Dave is floating. dave is floating.
And old man einstein crazy in his attic.
Crazy.
White room. sun room. shadow room.
Night transmitting cars across the room.
These things sent to dance across the room.
Eye watching from your bed. returning to you.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hunter
With a bow in his hand
the hunter sneaks
above the wind,
following the tracts
of the wild antelope.
His brown skin
melts into the field
and the bushes,
and like a wild cat
he sneaks
from cover to cover.
The sun is hot
where it hangs in the half-Kalahari sky
and he drinks a tiny bit of water
out of the ostrich egg flask,
before a brown hand
with caked sand
wipes sweat out of his dark brown eyes.
Again he takes the trail
and follows it at a jog
until the oryxes are closer
and again he sneaks nearer
and stalks still closer.
When he is in striking distance
an arrow is taken from the quiver
and the small bow’s string
made out of roped intestines draws
and for a moment,
it sounds like the buzz of a bee
while the arrow
rushes away from the bow.
The arrow hits the antelope
and when the startled oryx
rushes away
the hunter follows
faithful on the spoor,
till he finds it
where in time
it lies stretched out
on the red brown Africa sand.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don’t Little Girl
Don’t fall little girl
Don’t let them see you cry
Stand tall little girl
Keep your head held high
-
Don’t express little girl
Don’t let them see the pain in your eyes
Walk on little girl
Walk through all those pitiful lies
-
Don’t forget little girl
Don’t let them do it to you once more
Protect yourself little girl
There’s plenty more in store
-
Don’t hate little girl
That’s what they want you to do, they want to break you
Smile bright little girl, show them up
Try you’re hardest to be true
-
Don’t wait little girl
The world will move on without you
Move on little girl
Do what you need to do
-
Don’t look back little girl
You can’t change your past
Open your eyes little girl
Enjoy the world while it lasts
-
Live life little girl
Cause you only got one
Laugh loudly little girl
-
You’re you little girl
Haven’t you learned a lot?
But you’re also them little girl
In each of us you have fought
-
Some call you hope, little girl
You glow dim then turn bright
Some call you dreams, little girl
I know you are my dreams, I think of you every night
-
But to me, little girl
You will always just be mine
Guide us, little girl
Cause we both just want to be free
poem by Max Parriott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little girl! ! ! (please read my poems i want to know what u all think)
Little girl don't you cry, everything will be ok
Little girl please just listen to what i have got to say
Little girl make a wish, sit back, watch the stars and pray
Little girl some one will soon come along to help you guide your way
Little girl just relax and go and play
Little girl someone will be there to brighten up your day
Little girl your still young you have plenty of time
Little girl just talk to me then you'll be fine
Little girl im not a perfessional but il try my very best
Little girl i just dont like to see you in this horrible mess
Little girl take my hand, be happy don't be blue
Little girl im sorry to say but it was not true
Little girl dont you look for love, let it come and find you
Little girl you will just have to wait theres nothing else you can do
Little girl please stop sobbing, because you made a mistake
Little girl just remember its an easy thing to make
Little girl you got to beleive that is true
Little girl nobodys perfect not even you
Little girl your so special in your own little way
Little girl don't listen to what anyone else as got to say
Little girl i know it's hard, but please don't you give in
Little girl please be strong, dont ever let him win
Little girl you're not alone, that will always be true
Little girl so young and sweet, I'll always be hear for you
Little girl close your eyes and try and let the past go
Little girl if you dont give it a shot you will never know.
poem by Caz Faulkner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the zoo
There are street hawkers
selling their wares
next to a wall build
of rocks and stone
on all sides of the entrance.
Carved wooden walking sticks
african faces in black wood,
grass brooms, pottery,
hats and t-shirts
and African drums
and paintings line the sidewalk.
Light pink flamingos
parade next to their dark brown pool
and walk among long palm trees
while they call to each other.
Some white swans
drift on a lake in the park
and catch something to eat
with dipping heads
from the dark water.
a Couple of elephant throw
red-brown sand
over themselves
and their pleated skin
looks like rough sandpaper
and at the back
there’s an old white farmstead
with a green roof
and some hay
for them to eat.
Some spotted Hyenas
swim in a stream
and their dark brown
dots stand out
against their light coats.
There’s some long walkways
going through gardens
that stretch into the distance..
Just the head and back
of a lonely Hippopotamus
rises from a dark brown pool
and it drifts with its nose
under the water
in the direction
of some other Hippopotamuses.
Some bridges run
over the small stream
of the Apies river
which splash over rocks.
a Blue crane
combs its blue-grey coat
next to a striped Kudu cow
that grazes on the green grass
with the Kudu bull watching
the visitors.
a Big brown bear
walks up a rock slope
and splashes in cold pool.
Some Impalas are gathering
on a rocky slope
and a narrow path
stretches up the wooded hill.
A Tiger lies sleeping
under a tree
and two black-backed jackals
stand grinning next to each other.
There are yellow-gold lions
that hides in the long green grass
and a slim female
with two cubs
steps out and watches
and the big male
comes out with a twisting tail
and roars menacing at the crowd
while one of the keepers
are giving them meat.
There’s a great view of the buildings
of Pretoria from the top
of the hill
and some high rises
and towers jump up
into the sky.
I take a cable car
for the long way down
and see the Union buildings
far in the distance
and miniature animals
flash by on the bottom.
A Leopard growls
when I leave the cable car
and I hear the calls
of some black Chacma Baboons.
Some African Buffalo
stand grazing like cattle
and a Rhino
lies stretched out
on the grass.
Some of the gamekeepers
are feeding a giraffe
and it stretches its neck
over a high wall
and time catches me
and something of the animals
stays with me
when I walk back to the car.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Riverside
The river was flowing unceasingly.
On the bank sat a little girl
with a rose in her hand.
Lovely thoughts flooded her mind
of how she and her mother
used to come to the riverside
to wash their clothes.
The little girl always loved to
splash in the water, and at times
she knotted her fishing rod
and was busy fishing.
When the mother finished her washing,
both she and the little girl
would walk side by side,
the child with her fishing net
and a catch of fish,
and the mother with the
newly-washed clothes.
Memories came in one by one,
as the shore was deserted.
She drew so many pictures
in the sand, thinking about
her mother sitting in heaven
beside the loving Saviour.
poem by Aleyamma Jacob
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The Center Of The World
At the center of the world
There's a statue of a girl
She is standing near a well
With a bucket bare and dry
I went and looked her in the eyes
And she turned me into sand
This clumsy form that I despise
It scattered easy in her hand
And came to rest upon a beach
With a million others there
We sat and waited for the sea
To stretch out so that we could disappear
Into the endlessness of blue
Into the horror of the truth
See
song performed by by Bright Eyes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Africa child
You stay in one
of a group of shacks
on the other side
of the cleared borderline
where bleating goats
are eating
leaves from the thorn bushes.
You run inquisitive past
some pecking chickens
and your large brown and white eyes
are watching me,
when I take the LMG with the other hand
and get some hot water
out of a green water bottle.
Your hands are dirty caked with mud
and you wear a dirty white t-shirt
and tattered torn pants,
but there’s a smile
that spread past your ears
when I give an energy bar
and a dogbiscuit to you.
You push a car built from wire
along my boot tracts
and talk in your own language
as far as we go
and there’s wonder
in your big eyes,
when I take the catapult from you
and shoot the bird
which you are aiming at for some time,
with one shot
out of the sky.
You bring the bird to me
and I indicate
that you must take it
and you are still happier
and just before
I leave with my troops,
you pick up a stick
and point at the bush
before you draw your finger
across your throat.
I still hear your childish laughter
and see you disappear in the distance,
while we walk with another route
circling around those bushes.
Later another military patrol
detonated some landmines there
and there where no child,
to walk with them
and it was only
another forsaken native village.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sand Storm
We make our way along Bournemouth prom,
To a favourite pub of ours, for a lazy late lunch.
But long before we ever make it that far along,
Our mouths fill with sand, on which we crunch.
The sand from the beach is being blown by the wind.
We watch it as we walk along the almost endless prom.
Despite having to battle through the gusting gale,
It’s quite a novelty to see the sand being blown along.
The fine granules form ever moving designs.
Many an interesting pattern the sand makes.
As it’s perpetually blown this way and that,
It twists and turns and twirls, just like snakes.
The sand has collected in patches here and there,
And some of them really are pretty deep.
Rather than walking along the tarmac prom,
We could almost be walking along the actual beach!
As I walk through the large patches of sand,
The granules collect in both of my shoes.
But I walk through patch after patch en route:
I don’t mind, as, me, it does quite amuse.
The wind whips the sand up into a frenzy.
It’s in my mouth, my eyes and in my hair.
Sand is being blown all over the place.
In fact, it seems to be almost everywhere!
I happen to place my hand on the back of my neck,
And I can feel sand there, just below my head.
The next morning, when I get up and look,
There are grains of sand near the foot of my bed!
It was really nice to have a small reminder
Of our very enjoyable, but tiring, day out.
I do so love going down to Bournemouth.
We’ll be back there soon without a doubt!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The sorceress
The storyteller is pierced with an arrow
and all the hunters are gone
as if they are part of the field
and the fire has been burnt out for a long time
and the red coals
has become white and cold
and the young girl
can now only hear the wind
that twists around with the sand devils
and blows storm strong past her ears
and there’s nothing that impresses her
and the beautiful words are gone
as if the wind is blowing it away
and only the wind stays with her
and she and the wind are both alone
and there’s red sand that hits her.
[Reference: => Die towenares by Eugene N Marais.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Running On The Beach
Early just after dawn
there is salt in the air,
a light wind pulls at my hair
while I race on the beach
clothed in only bathing trunks,
trying to outrun the incoming surf,
which at times splashes against my body.
I pass some big rocks
while the white sand of Clifton
clings to my feet and legs,
the air starts to burn in my lungs,
while I pick up the pace,
finding new energy under the summer sun,
with the sea only touching at my feet.
In the distance stark naked
two young women tan,
the one is lying on her stomach
the other is sitting up and facing me
and I notice that her stomach is flat,
her breasts are DD sized with nipples hard,
she says something to the other girl and is smiling.
I want to avoid them, keep to the solitude,
the freedom of racing at speed,
with the sun and the wind touching my body,
while all thoughts are stripped from me
but one of them have got other plans,
gets up and steps right into my way
with legs wide and eyes bluer than the sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Lost At Sea.
You remember now the sound of the sea,
The crashing of waves, the white and grey
Gulls in the sky. Mother said, don’t go too
Far out; keep an eye on the young ones.
The cold water made you hop about when
It first went over your bare feet. You knew
Where the young ones were, you could see
Them there at the water’s edge running in
And out as the cold water chased them.
The beach was crowded; the crowds seemed
To occupy each area with their deckchairs,
Windbreakers and towels spread on the sand.
The bright sun shone down heavily; the air
Was still. And Mother’s voice loudly shouting,
Where’s Baba? Where’s she gone? And the
Place she was with the others was without
Her presence now; the panic gripped you.
Your eyes scanned the beach and sea; you ran
Along the beach near the water’s edge gazing
Out at the wide expanse of ocean, ignoring the
Passing ships on the horizon, the sailing boats,
The far out swimmers, just looking for Baba,
Your eyes searching each face, each child, every
Little one running on the beach or out at sea out
Of reach. Mother came running down the beach
Towards you, her face red with effort, her mouth
Screaming out words carried off by the other
Sounds and the sea’s call, pointing out at ocean’s
Hold as a man came up and out of the waves,
Water dripping, eyes wide, and in his arms, Baba
Limp and her swaying head, hair hanging wet,
Seeming lost to you, small arms swinging, dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Girl Im Over U And This Is Done The Song
girl i'm over u and this is done girl im over u and this is done girl im over u and this is done your not even that fine
so why u treating me like water down wine girl i'm over u and this is done girl im over u and this is done girl im over u and this is done
so why u tryna play me like a was a video game in HD i made up my mind girl u waste my time girl i'm over u and this is done girl im over u and this is done girl im over u and this is done
poem by Poetry Finder
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