In Darkness
I
The twilight is framed and covered in black,
drawn closed on the one side,
when suddenly it carries blue-white thunder
that burns sparking, it's deadly risky,
where no sign of any moon
rise up against the closed night sky,
there are only thunder flashes hitting flickering
without a sign of the Southern Cross
and still the earth waits on drops of rain
to start their irrigation
when a shower continuously patters down,
seeping into the deep ground,
thunderbolts reports constantly
while twilight falls silver over the beach.
II
While twilight falls silver over the beach
the neon lights of the night glitter,
cut-off from the whole universe
as if each one is waiting for discovery
and it's as if the backwash wants to
pull you deeper into the sea,
in the space where the great ocean stretches
and there is something in each dream and wish
like that Wide Ocean unlimited
that waits free without any bonds,
as if each day and night
works together in a perfect balance,
as if the darkness keeps you for moments,
here where the dark night now folds around me.
III
Here where the dark night now folds around me.
I hear your steps coming closer
the wild wind jerks some of the windows open,
in thunder I am stripped from you
and grief will after years have an impact
that still strips me down roughly
from reason and all kinds of hope,
to keep you against me once more.
The much deeper pain of only being human
does not want to subside in my heart, in my soul,
and sometimes like now with full fury
it becomes real in each thought, in fear,
outside purity is in everything,
as if the white street light shines with sympathy.
IV
As if the white street light shines with sympathy
the city lies stretched out in the distance
as if it is a gigantic spaceship
that continually draws people to it
of which the lights flash on and off
when travellers in their cars come near,
bright lights are seen from a distance
while people gather at many places.
At places the lights are blinding
where people revel at each kind of place
or as if it wants to takeoff with a wild wind
while the darkness of the city stretches out wide,
I wonder where people go soulless;
it's night with a very small crescent moon.
V
It's night with a very small crescent moon
that hangs somewhat shameful in the darkness,
at places shadows catch my eyes,
with popular branches swishing about,
I can swear something is following me for a while,
somewhere something hisses like a cat or snake,
I stretch my steps and am far too scared
to look back or now to stop walking,
it's as if something is suddenly blowing in my neck,
now I am afraid, my arm hairs raise
and I hear the churchyard gate moaning shrilly
while I am in a much greater hurry,
against my back there's a cold shiver,
with open eyes I pray for God to protect me.
VI
With open eyes I pray for God to protect me,
see some old tramps standing around a fire
when a black cat suddenly moans next to me,
while I see coals with flames rising.
It's only a big cat moving next to me
and I bend down and stroke it gently,
it's no unearthly kind of thing
as I had imagined,
above us stars are blazing the night full,
prostitutes triple on like display-dolls,
on the horizon lights are red, yellow and white
one whistles at me while I pass them,
three stand astride arguing with each other,
one girl draws up her blouse and I walk past.
VII
One girl draws up her blouse and I walk past,
I see breasts in their finest detail,
wonder how people live in this godless city,
every thing is getting worse than it had been.
I am alone and almost late
to get bread and milk at the Spar
and I cross the busy street,
hear them call in a choir at me
where one of the girls pulls her skirt up
showing her legs and a white panty,
trying her best to arouse desires,
I catch the smell of vinegar, chips and aniseed
while she begs: Come along with me;
the twilight is framed and covered in black.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
The Darkness Falls Like A Shadow Over You (In Answer To Pablo Neruda)
The darkness falls like a shadow over you,
where your eyes gleam like that of a cat
as the silver twilight sudden start to rush in
and abstracted your face fades into twilight.
Without a word you gaze into the night,
gaze down at neon lights flickering on,
while I am alone in our big hot bed
and there is a kind of loneliness that comes
with this early evening’s magical hour,
while the sun flames in its red glowing fire
that splashes over your white dress
as the night sets its roots into our souls
while hidden things suddenly come to life,
as your gentle laughter touches me very deep
when you enter our bedroom with a bottle
full of sparkling champagne, full of joy.
Suddenly life is rich as if the act of creation,
is in every gentle touch, as if new beginnings
of love, joy and tender bliss are totally endless
as the city lights suddenly wink on below.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Lights in the night
The sun fades in its red glare
over the mountain top
and traffic lights, street lights
and electrical signs
get an own life
that appears
like flowers folding open to the night.
The city lies dotted out
with thousands of lights
like a big jewel,
that a master artist
unfolds against the dark night.
Cars, busses and motorbikes
draw white and red stripes
like they drive past
crossing and going straight
while the evening
is getting life.
The evening air is beautifully open
and away from the inner city
there are big stars
that hangs sparkling against the heaven
and the Seven Sisters, Orion
and the Southern Cross
are the first to catch my eye
and I wonder how transom
our tinned stars
look out of the universe
and how trivial our lives are
when we look at the great works
of an Almighty God.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Night was coming
Night was coming
with a piercing huge orange sun
breaking through
white and black clouds
in the west.
It found a gap
and the sun was hanging
like a orange ball
above the street
and it was blinding.
Cars passed barely visible
above the orange glare
and some had already
turned their lights on.
The sun dipped down
below some trees
and for a time
it glowed behind them
and soon it would be dark
and the first stars
were already appearing
and a full yellow moon
was rising,
but below bright lights
was already burning
right across the city
in colours of amber
streetlights
green, yellow and red
traffic lights,
blue lights flashing
on police cars
and almost every bright colour
caught on neon signs
while people came and went
to different destinations
some smiling and relaxed,
others in a hurry
and some others
locked in a world of their own.
poem by Gert Strydom
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To someone that I loved
I. The odours of jasmine
The odours of jasmine, gardenia
and lavender sneaks in
through the room’s window
and it smells like a perfumery
while rays upon rays march over the bed
climbing over your arms, body and legs
while we lie stretched out
close to each other,
ignoring the sounds from the street,
where cars rush by,
the barks of the dogs
yelping at passing strangers,
only when you wake up,
I draw the curtains shut
as we feel the coldness of twilight
and join in body and soul.
II. On the porch we watch the setting sun
On the porch we watch the setting sun,
while sweet St. Anna wine
sparkles in our glasses
and there’s an intimacy,
a type of tranquillity
in the experience of early evening
while lights shine yellow and white in the distance,
the bottom of the clouds is almost ruby-red,
the black are already darkening some clouds,
while other remains snowy-white
the darkness catches us
with a full yellow moon
and like naughty children
we sneak into our house,
we sneak into our own bedroom
while joy foams like champagne
we are very intimately together
melting into one body
and while your hand later
still caress my back like a butterfly
barely touching here and there
I realise that you are the best part of me,
with your soft sweet lips
barely touching my cheek,
your hot breath against my body.
III. While the night is being born
While the night is being born,
the darkness sneaks into our house,
sneaks into our bedroom,
a sudden breeze begins blowing
far off against the horizon
near to the Magaliesberg mountains
blue-white streaks of thunder
flashes like canon fire
while we can smell
the scent of rain, of wet earth
on the breeze that is blowing stronger,
tossing the small potato trees to and thro
your face is full of terror
in the light of a lightning bolt
falling just outside of the window
and your eyes look big and white
while I cuddle you close to me
and your arms enfold, wrap around me drawing
me still closer and suddenly
the night is chilly
while big drops of rain pound down,
splashing until the rain pours like a torrent
and we find comfort in each other
melting with passion into one another.
IV. The alarm clock wakes me
The alarm clock wakes me
while it’s still twilight
and with the falling rain
the early morning is still dark
as if the night is lingering.
Outside the large jacaranda trees
wave in the storm wind
dropping purple-blue flowers
like a shower of confetti
and the street gleams
while cars drive past splashing
water in a spray
and we have to get ready
for the new day
and quite lazily you stretch out,
drawing me back to bed,
drawing me close to you,
drawing me into your warmth
while our lips, bodies and limbs
intertwine to become one.
V. We agree to meet for lunch
We agree to meet for lunch
in a restaurant just off church street
on a autumn day
on the twentieth of May
and you are smiling,
lifting a glass of red champagne,
when so near that we can feel the wind of it
a tremendous explosion erupts shattering,
shattering the innocent people in Church Street
with deadly sharp pieces of glass and concrete
and I pull you down to the ground
as we take cover behind the small table
where we were eating,
the air is suddenly full
with the sound of people
screaming in pain and terror
and as we rush out,
going into Church Street
and there’s blood and guts everywhere
with terrified, screaming, mutilated
and wounded people
where ever we look
and you cry in relieve of escape,
in sheer terror and shock
and the world has gone amok.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Wreath Of Sonnets For My Darling
I
Outside all the streets are lighted
while you smell red roses in the garden
and it's as if my thoughts linger with you,
at the morning glories trumpeting over the wall,
the windows reflect you in their glare
and you crawl just deeper into my thoughts,
above me stars sparkle, it's as if one is dancing
and I am aware of a secret bond,
I am madly in love with you;
our friendship came suddenly
where two people in the whole universe
are momentarily astounded by each other
and its only moments before you join me,
the doors are closed and locked.
II
The doors are closed and locked
when you come into my life irrevocable
and my world is falling to pieces
but it's as if you give to every day the summer sun,
you change the cool winter rain of months
with a unknown adaptability
and deep in my heart you are the only one;
that makes me happy and sometimes sad,
maybe we knew that difficult days will come,
maybe we had an intuition that moments do decay
but still we are in love with each other,
as two persons finding each other in all of humanity
and it's as if the blessings of God do descend on us,
when the nightly silence lingers.
III
When the nightly silence lingers
I read deep thoughts, your eyes shine
with the brilliance and glittering of rainbows,
they are radiated by a bright pure light,
they lie like two olives totally oval,
when you laugh full of sunshine and you are elated
and still they have got the capacity
to draw all of my thought to you,
when you want to make my whole world wonderful,
as if we are totally exceptional,
and it's as if every bird is calling its mate,
as if the sunrise and the days become more beautiful
and like two children we find meaning;
I cannot get you out of my thoughts.
IV
I cannot get you out of my thoughts,
in this cold winter I miss you,
it's as if I want to include you in everything
and I am constantly looking at your photograph.
Even the wind that blows inconsolable
brings in its songs a bigger sense of longing,
as if all things in life
suggests that I flee but still I am captured
in the power of destiny,
and it's as if escape lies in my power
(I know it sounds somewhat ridiculous
to change everything all at once)
and I am now attached to your soul;
we walk with your hand that fits in mine.
V
We walk with your hand that fits in mine
past the gardens of houses to the church,
the wind jerks on your jacket
and you are the only thing that I do notice.
Your voice makes my heart frolic,
when you tell me about all kinds of things
and your voice sometimes sounds like that of a young girl,
while I pick up beautiful rocks lying here and there
but something precious I want to pick for you
when your presence makes me feel good,
and I want to embrace you
as we stand for long moments
while the day passes rapidly;
silver-white stars are all over the sky.
VI
Silver-white stars are all over the sky
before the cold rain starts to pour down,
when the wind cries at the corners of the house
and I see leaves whirling around,
Thunderbolts fall for moments and disappear,
and there is monotony in the swirl
but it's as if you always cross my life
and even when my days are busy
I realise how fleeting life is,
that life comes down to the here and now
and when the rain keeps splashing down
you come to visit and we share every secret,
talk to deep into the night until the stars fade;
we talk about places where we had been.
VII
We talk about places where we had been
and through the window the moon peeps,
while we kiss and I hold tightly onto your hand,
when our thoughts go back to the past
and the seriousness in your glance
at times makes me scared,
as if a secret shines in your eyes,
when you look mischievous.
Outside many stars glitter blue-white
when the fragrances of jasmine and gardenia hangs in the air,
with lights that glow in the darkness,
the lights of cars that are caught in the moment
and a paper bag is rolling around in the wind,
the old oak tree throws a dark spot.
VIII
The old oak tree throws a dark spot
while doves constantly coo from it,
while the wind jerks on the windows
and the moon watches us shyly.
Gleaming sharp light glitter in the night,
bringing a kind of joy to the dark hour
and in my veins the pure power rushes
of the glowing fire of great passion
of earthly desires, as if from the ground,
burning full of emotion through me
when sparking, flaming your soft mouth
awakens emotion in a showering flood
and sweetly your clear laughter sounds,
your lips are suddenly hot, sweet and soft.
IX
Your lips are suddenly hot, sweet and soft,
tonight there is a potsherd golden moon
and it's as if I am yearning for years for you,
as if the whole wide world suddenly comes to a halt,
as if the moon is breaking into pieces,
it rises as if it's following the stars in its orbit,
and a piece pierces into the heaven
as it brightens, gleams lingering
and it's as if the moon uses magic,
with golden rays and shadows
and for moments I consider conquering you,
to find love without fear
and intensely you watch me for moments,
when my heart beats in rapture in my throat.
X
When my heart beats in rapture in my throat
you smell of flowers that bloom in spring
while passion wants to run away with us both,
when your eyes glow with secrets.
When you kiss me a star jumps in the sky,
you are the sun that carries this summer,
you make me madly in love with you,
you are the answer to which I am yearning.
Your lips caress butterfly soft over my mouth,
for moments lightly touches my cheek
as if you are near to holy ground
and moments linger, are caught;
in the distance a lightning bolt rattles,
a dove calls to its mate in the dark night.
XI
A dove calls to its mate in the dark night
and we both are full of joy and tireless,
when you smile like the sun in the afternoon,
it's as if thousands of fountains flow from your eyes,
radiating flaming from your whole body,
against your blouse sinful blossoms appear,
an attraction that goes to your thighs
making all other needs disappear,
as if eternally you are my flower of flowers
from which all other flowers come;
as if you walk in Eve's steps with sympathy,
can entice any man but it is me that you are astounding,
and I want to marry you and make a home;
when time suddenly stops in that moment.
XII
When time suddenly stops in that moment
when you set me free from all other women,
my blood pulses through my head,
and in this summer you are only looking at me.
When old age appears with the years,
will fire then still arise between us,
when destiny makes us grey, bowed and disguised,
and wants to show us the road to eternity?
Will we then still know love,
when all other things fade away
like fog in the secret places of the mind
and then still be following love,
will we want to find each other in every sentence and word,
when your eyes tell me that you love me?
XIII
When your eyes tell me that you love me
let smoke rise from the glowing sparks,
let us then constantly begin each day anew,
and remain silent about the mistakes of the past.
Let our love become more than just passion,
in the holy temples of the heart,
let us pour out our spirit and soul into each other,
then let you still play your role and I my part;
may we love each other in happiness and sorrow,
even in the wild stormy wind,
may we be stand together on each occasion,
even when life blinds us at times,
may you never fabricate any truth,
when I look into the depths of your soul.
XIV
When I look into the depths of your soul
now that winter goes strips to skeleton,
I know that we can conquer any problem,
while I search joy and meaning from you
and like always I am still blinded
to the errors that your humanity screams out,
and still there is something in me that wants to find you,
while you are caught in this century
and right through the night I am dreaming
about how you fold your slim arms around my neck,
but I do not know what to expect from these things
and it's as if you are still here with me,
even when the last leaves falls with old age,
when we stand before the God of the universe.
XV
Outside all the streets are lighted
the doors are closed and locked
when the nightly silence lingers
(I cannot get you out of my thoughts) :
we walk with your hand that fits in mine,
silver-white stars are all over the sky,
we talk about places where we had been,
the old oak tree throws a dark spot.
Your lips are suddenly hot, sweet and soft,
when my heart beats in rapture in my throat,
a dove calls to its mate in the dark night
when time suddenly stops in that moment
when your eyes tell me that you love me,
when I look into the depths of your soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A London Thoroughfare. 2 A.M.
They have watered the street,
It shines in the glare of lamps,
Cold, white lamps,
And lies
Like a slow-moving river,
Barred with silver and black.
Cabs go down it,
One,
And then another,
Between them I hear the shuffling of feet.
Tramps doze on the window-ledges,
Night-walkers pass along the sidewalks.
The city is squalid and sinister,
With the silver-barred street in the midst,
Slow-moving,
A river leading nowhere.
Opposite my window,
The moon cuts,
Clear and round,
Through the plum-coloured night.
She cannot light the city:
It is too bright.
It has white lamps,
And glitters coldly.
I stand in the window and watch the
moon.
She is thin and lustreless,
But I love her.
I know the moon,
And this is an alien city.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Night Sky
The Night Sky
Stars Were So Bright In The Nights Dark Sky
The Little Lights That Lit Up The Black Spots In Space
Stars That We Wondered In
And Saw Many Wonderful Things
Like The Many Stars That Are Out There...
How There Are So Many Lights In The Night Sky...
How The Night Sky Could Look So Great
In Only Black And White
The Same Thing, The Same Looks..
Yet So Many Objects And Point Outs Of Our Imagination
Oh, How The Night Sky
When We Look On about Its The Same Sky We See When We're Away From Each other
The Same Crescent Moon, The Same Stars
The Same Look Outs That Remind Me Of You.
poem by Gabina Gomez
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Through the window the new moon peeps
(For Daleen)
I
Through the window the new moon peeps,
many stars glitter blue-white
where they sit glowing in the darkness,
like diamonds at which I look,
when the ginger cat stands in the windowsill,
next to me the moon falls on your face
and it looks as if you are dreaming,
as the lights of a car passes
and I am blessed to have you here,
with your intimate heat next to me,
but it's only a dream in which I dare this
as if a thousand nights will be such
and I am free of my worries,
it's as if everything fades in your presence.
II
It's as if everything fades in your presence
as if the past, times and things do not touch me,
when we are together and small things make you happy
as if nobody else does anymore matter
and with the magic that spring brings
there are new green sprouts rising,
in the garden it's as if the grass suddenly jumps,
I see irises already blooming purple in pots,
I see all the beauty that this spring brings
and all of the flowers that I can get
are far too insignificant
as you are very dear to me
but I do continually long for you,
even when the sun hangs magically in the sky.
III
Even when the sun hangs magically in the sky,
my life feels empty without you,
even if the sky is cobalt blue,
even if the rays of the sun catch me caressingly,
I am still like a child scared of darkness,
while I long to hold your hand, to embrace you,
while I want to know you better and want to trust you
in all the days of spring
and I wonder about your thoughts,
where you are now sitting in an office,
or does life also pass you,
while you drink a cup of tea
in a place with many white papers;
do you have any time to think of me?
IV
Do you have any time to think of me,
I wonder, while I am working in the garden
and I do not immediately notice you
while I am mowing the lawn
and I see a dove gliding over the earth
with no clouds in the deep blue sky,
where it stretches out with brightness above me
and irises and roses are flowering where you sit down.
I kiss you and do it another time
where we are alone in the back garden,
I am caught and you sweep me along
right here in the bright daylight,
and the bright sun falls over us
when I give my self to you.
V
When I give my self to you
and share my deepest secrets,
when you walk deep into my heart
and know me thoroughly
then I tell you about my life
and you learn that love comes from God,
and love has a new much deeper meaning
and I am astounded by your beauty time after time.
You are the summer child, the morning sun,
you are mine before the people and God
of light my only real source
and more precious than any human law
but then I suddenly wake up and want to cling to you;
in this late summer I miss you.
VI
In this late summer I miss you,
the separation of moments comes
in every small thing that I notice
and it reflects your image and your name.
I can hear birds whistling in the trees,
even feel the soft wind caressing my skin,
but you are the source of my heat,
the loveliest song that plays right through my heart
and I wonder if a person looses some humanity
when you trust somebody totally,
when you make deeper bonds,
when you cling to someone else in rapture?
Outside lights beacon lonely;
your voice over the phone makes my heart frolic.
VII
Your voice over the phone makes my heart frolic
when it sounds like that of a young girl,
when your image shines like that of an angel
and I am searching for flowers not just a poppy
but something precious that I want to pick for you,
when you bring me joy
and I want to embrace you for moments
while I wonder how that sensation will last
as the miles is some distance
but the yellow sun shines bright through your words
and suddenly my life feels right
as if radiated from a heavenly source,
our conversation stretches long, goes on and on;
through the window the new moon peeps.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Every Night when Darkness Comes
I
Every night when darkness comes,
when we say prayers together
then I know that your bright light
never fails,
that you daily determine
the destiny of every one
who bend down to you, that stars spray like sparks
going to unknown places
and that you the sun of righteousness
will come at your set time
with bright rays, that you will come down
past all mortality,
that all earthly troubles and worries will disappear;
how do you Lord, let the pain be gone?
II
How do you Lord, let the pain be gone,
two animal children I have lost shortly after each other
and when in the mornings I look outside
there are only two left.
How do you tell others that do not really comprehend
of the bond that a person has,
of the love coming from the heart of a animal,
about the moments of unmentioned pleasure
and now that I am without a wife or children
the remaining two still serves me faithfully,
there is a tight bond
and I pray for you to hold your hand over them
and if you want to take them as well;
I am lost on this world.
III
I am lost on this world,
in the unknown world that waits tomorrow on me,
when my strength begins to wane
before the dark night,
but when the new light appears,
the sun still rises in a new day
(when the sun again shines in all of its glory over me)
in the unknown things waiting on me,
my known yesterdays are included
in bright days, that in late afternoons declines,
it is as if everything that came before is included
in memories and even when lightning bolts fall around me
I find your presence continually,
when shadows fall over me.
IV
When shadows fall over me,
when the world almost decadent
roughly falls into my universe
and shadows sometimes permanently
try to sabotage my best efforts
and everything in my will rises up
I feel pushed away, blunted and used;
but still I remember you
from whom all light comes
and are waiting on a new day,
although I am knocked down and am astonished,
although it continually looks to me like night
you never really leave me isolated,
even when in my dreams I scream and wonder.
V
Even when in my dreams I scream and wonder
why every morning folds around me,
almost endlessly without you,
as if live is destroying me,
trying to get me down
without me being able to keep the pain away,
as if no fatherly hand is helping me,
I still stand astonished
when I see the works of God
in small things around me
where its power without bonds
even unfolds in my own writings
I know that He constantly draws me nearer,
even when the scribes gather.
VI
Even when the scribes gathered,
to send me to hell,
they still wanted to draw near to you with a last prayer
on that determined dark hour.
To confirm that they are accomplishing your will,
as if to say, so says the Lord,
they stood in a circle,
that white plastered men.
At that time I was wondering about people,
who have the audacity to put them in your place
if that Sanhedrin
really did carry out your wishes
or are they the whole time walking in darkness,
do they not know what is written on the ground?
VII
Do they not know what is written on the ground?
Lord I thank you for sharpening me in my growth
even when so-called holy people come with a sentence
that interferes with my vocation.
Although sometimes I feel the pain penetrating
as if it’s cutting to the bone,
I know that you only mean things to be well for me,
that you and your angels are continually at my side
but ask that you protect me
against the darkness, the evil
that in hordes gathers around me,
that you do not wait
that you keep me on the right way, even when I go astray;
every night when darkness comes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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On a windy night (in answer to T.S. Eliot)
I. It’s Midnight
It’s Midnight
and the wind brushes softly though my hair,
there are long drawn out shadows everywhere
under the street lamps and the bright light
is stringed out in white
beacon after beacon leading for some to somewhere
but to me it feels as if they are going nowhere,
as if this dark night
is endless without form or shape
and one lonely shadow is following me
while branches are caught in a macabre dance
and there’s a chill at the nape
of my neck and darkness wherever I see
while I walk as if in a trance.
II. Half past one
Half past one
and the spluttering street lump did mutter
“so you had your fun, ”
and no single word did I utter
and at my back fear was crawling
as if in the past night
I had done a unpardonable sin and wind was the singing
“do not look back” and above me the stars was bright
but a strange feeling was in me
as if something evil was following,
as if from it I would never be free
and I glimpsed back, in my daring caught a glance
of something without shadow sneaking behind
and I believed that it as a trick of the mind.
III. It was half-past two
It was half-past two
and while walking through the park
I did not have a clue
where I was going and the night was very dark
and a black thinned out cat sneaked past
with green glowing eyes
as if the tranquillity could not last
and all of the past goodbyes
where coming to my mind
of loved animals, friends and you
as if I was blind and never again to find
the place in the world where I belonged to
and with a leap of delight
the cat found something to eat in that night.
IV. The darkness washed over me
The darkness washed over me
falling like a old worn out cloak
and there were known stars that I could see
but with feelings wanted to choke
and it was half-past three
with a strange familiar howl in the wind
and the cat was eying me
as if in me it had find
a close compatriot
who is also a dweller in the night,
but in life I felt like a idiot
watching the bright
lights of cars passing in the distance,
praying for some kind of deliverance.
V. At four I was chilly
At four I was chilly
and did not want to wait in the park anymore,
the cat was still with me
purring much more in love with me than before
and I carried it while stroking it
as if I had found a new friend
and bit by tiny bit
I liked it and it was no fiend
but a tiny living thing
with shiny bright eyes burning
right through me and the wind did sing
the leaves on branches were still churning
and for a time I had company,
and it was great to be alive with something that loved me.
VI. The memory was crowding me
The memory was crowding me,
as if there was no escape
that on a similar night I did see
a glance of beauty peering from beneath a cape
and then it was somewhat chilly
not like now a summer night
and a strange passion did fill me
to see her full face in the bright light
but into the night she did disappear
with white cheeks and the fire of a eye
as if she was not meant to be near
and now with the sun in a bright sky
with a bird calling on its mate
I see her standing at the garden gate.
[Reference: Rhapsody on a Windy Night by T. S. Eliot.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Highveld
(after Toon van den Heever)
I
In the Highveld with the sky cobalt blue and open
where rock rabbits, steenbok and baboons revel,
you see the wind skipping through the long grass
and you can still believe in God and His angels,
the rain gathers with thunder
where through the open spaces you can see far into the veldt,
you are astounded by the beauty of flowering proteas
and you still can realize your dependence
but when the city’s rumbling becomes too much,
the jacarandas start flowering in the streets,
buildings of steel and concrete start to curtail you,
you dream about wild flowers appearing everywhere
and it’s the places of a child that you miss,
in the Highveld where the veldt stretches out into the distance.
II
In the Highveld where the veldt stretches out into the distance
and the wind rollicks through the grass
the sky is pure blue and you can look for hours at it,
there you can find freedom from the city’s imprisonment.
When the wind rustles through the march you loose all sadness,
you see the African red-knobbed coot gathering her chickens,
you can hear the finches’ caper, branches full together,
you see every great small happening,
how wild flowers of every imaginable colour
grow as if planted in secret
(and I will go back if I only could)
where I can find some serenity, can have peace
where I will know about God’s heritage;
there the sun shines.
III
There the sun shines
where proteas and aloes flower wildly,
bright up to the horizon
coming out of the earth by themselves
with violets growing purple-blue right through the marsh,
with daisies stretching white over the veldt,
with long tailed widow birds flapping their wings
and the earth is covered with long green grass.
To this piece of ground I am trapped
even when my days are drawing to their end,
it goes even to my heart’s deepest yearning,
with every plant, bush and flower
as it’s bought with sweat and blood,
nobody can strip it from me.
IV
Nobody can strip it from me,
I have to go back to where the sun hangs golden
in the sapphire heaven, I have got to strip the city from me
(but if I only could)
the big desire stays and out of the town I must go
away from the ambulance and police sirens that cuts through everything,
trains whistling almost endlessly,
I have got to go to where only the frog choir and crickets sing.
Again I have got to get the smell of sugar bushes,
smell the rain, spring, summer and even autumn
I must get away from a world where tinned pleasure seduces,
where people use other people for their own pleasure.
I want to stand in the green fields of grass,
when the day dies.
V
When the day dies
letting its last rays fall,
with the birds flying to their nests
darkness comes to this part of the universe,
the doves at dusk still call to each other
as if their voices bind them in the darkness,
you can see the moon sailing golden-yellow through the sky,
you are sometimes blinded by the bright rays,
the city lights glitter far away
in all the colours of the rainbow,
here you want to bond your life to a loved one,
catching her moments long in your eye
when people come together here,
the madness of the human existence is exorcised.
VI
The madness of the human existence is exorcised
even in later years past your own youth,
when you are in the world that your heart desires,
you want to invite the new spring to stay with you
shaking out that which bothers and torments to the early summer wind,
feeling the effervescence of new life,
blinded by the sun you want to find healing
while the whole of spring washes through your life
with the light, air, the flowers, birds and sun splashing down
as if your autumn is only in your imagination,
you want to wash yourself clean from old age,
you are searching for exorcism from the darkness
there are still flowers sprouting out everywhere,
when the colours of autumn smoulder in the trees.
VII
When the colours of autumn smoulder in the trees
with branches being full of coloured leaves,
the sun is still heating as in summer
before the first biting winds begin to whine.
I see opened pod upon opened pod
that lays brown scorched without any signs of seeds,
the dull blue sky has clouds in milky white,
trees become a wild watermill
that is halfway skeleton, halfway still carrying leaves,
afternoons are still drawn out
and even when days earlier end in winter
it’s a time without equal,
as if the summer can last forever,
in the Highveld with the sky cobalt blue and open.
poem by Gert Strydom
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How white and level the plain
How white and level the plain
That stretches to the sea-ridge
The sea-ridge beyond which
The sea roars in and out
And laps against the giant rocks
This night.
I startle - the moon’s light
Which I thought feeble --
Clearly the plain before me lights
And the dark bosom of the sea
Entering and going silver shines
When the moon-rays with the dark waves commix
This night.
No sound save for my steps and the sea’s waves
And here and there a few cool gusts of wind.
No-body save for me - the rest so silent is:
The temples high above in black silhouette
Rise like pointed turrets to the sky
In silent draped and in dress funereal
I walk, I think, I look at the seas,
Tears come to my eyes and fall and fall
This night.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Table Bay [2]
I can hear the waves roar,
slamming shingle on the rocks, the beach
drawing in and out
on Bloubergstrand
and the cadence is a age old shuddering
of waves breaking, continuing like before
and in the distance Table Bay
lies stretched out specked with
hundreds of little lights
like a enormous crown
with the flat mountain top
on display, etched against the night sky
and its full tide, the moon is full
yellow and magnificent
and the place of good hope,
lies on the shore
with waves breaking forever more
and lonely the beach stretches out before me,
in a long white ribbon
and the dark water goes out to the horizon,
almost as far as I can see
and the sea wind is fresh and new
and there's no light in sight
on the wavering ocean
just a darkness that envelopes me
as the waves
are throwing pebbles out
and drawing them in
before breaking on the beach
and there's nobody to be true to,
nobody to trust, only the reality of the here and now
and all hope, all promises, all joy and pain
remains the same
swept in and out of a confused world
forever breaking, forever rushing in.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The White City
I'm in the white city.
A dense fog
Disintegrates all my hopes.
There are people dreaming
Of nonexistent worlds,
There are disoriented people
Walking on the terminal's sidewalk.
There are lights turning on and off so erratically
In this white city.
There are hidden screams in the night
Covered by the heavy rain sounds,
That rain falling continuously
And monotonously.
In this white city,
The victims
Don't understand that they are victims yet.
There are flowers,
There are fast food kiosks,
There are botanical gardens,
With beautiful exotic trees,
And there are horror movies in the theaters.
As shadows emerging from the fog
Are the lost steps.
There are steps searching each other,
And there are steps that are separated forever.
The rain's sounds
Vibrate the eye of the windows,
Vibrate the burial stones,
Vibrate the dreams,
Those dreams
About better days.
Apparently,
Someone screams
In the white mist of the night.
Maybe he's the victim of an aggression,
Or maybe he's someone, who has lost his love.
Maybe it's just an echo...
I'm in the white city
And I'm searching for you in the darkness...
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Underneath The Neon Sign
Our hero leaves the pub his head still
Swimming with alcohol, his head
Buzzing with facts, figures and
Computers. night is descending as he
Wearily makes his way home through
The traffic jams and neon lights of the
Great metropolis.
Underneath the neon sign
All I see is imitation
And theres no earth beneath my feet.
There are no trees or fields in front of me
Only slabs of concrete.
Skyscrapers reaching up to the clouds,
Dont give the moon a chance to shine,
And Ive got imitation moonlight
Standing underneath the neon sign.
Is it real or just illusion?
Can there be a time when its night?
Is it merely my delusion
Or my senses telling me lies.
Is it just hallucination?
Have I been drinking too much wine?
I dont know if its day or night,
When Im underneath the neon sign.
Underneath the neon sign.
Electronic nature made by man with robots in mind.
Big city lights guide my way into the night, darkness shines
When Im standing underneath the neon sign.
If there isnt any sunshine
Well some-day buy the neon sign
And if we cant see any stars at night
Well sit and watch the traffic lights.
If there isnt any day-time
Ive got an imitation dawn,
Ive got a simulated sunshine
Standing underneath the neon sign.
Is it an illusion?
Have I been drinking too much wine?
Can there be day-time when its night
Underneath the neon sign.
Underneath the neon sign.
Is it mother nature
Playing tricks with my eyes
For darkness shines
When Im standing underneath the neon sign.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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a Walk home after dark
Cars speed past
and their lights search
to find direction
in the rush of the city.
The last red rays of the sun
are dying behind
the ridges
and dusk brings
the darkness of night.
I see the lights appearing high
up in the night sky
and they burn,
as it was
from the beginning of time.
I see a new light hanging bright
where I did not see anything
on a previous night
and it gets brighter
and I wonder
if any Unidentified Flying Objects
are watching us?
Or are some countries
flying secret objects of war,
high up in the night sky?
Is this world like a stage
which creatures from
other worlds
watch for the final ends
to appear?
At times I wonder
what judgement waits
on every one of us?
Or if we are just
another speck
in the big scheme of things
and does destiny
just let the pieces fall
as they may?
Two new lights appear
and I hear the jet engines
of a low flying plane
and it disappears in the distance.
Dark shadows fall
from across the street
and I am wary,
but it’s only trees
that moves in the strong wind.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Bus ride at night
At quarter to five
the driver refuses,
that I get on a bus
in Burnett street
because it is already full.
There are men, woman and children
and we talk various languages
while we wait for the bus
and I see a car guard
dancing in the street
while he does tricks like a clown.
We wait on the next bus
and the afternoon passes
and the bus is very late
and it stays away
and just Putco and North Star busses
stop at other places.
At dusk the bus appears
and it’s got a double deck,
but is also full
and on the top level the roof is so low
that I bump my head
while it draws from the curb.
There’s no place to sit down
before we travel halfway to the city
and there’s a crowd of people around me
and we sit tight against each other
and in the front a child is holding onto a bar
while she licks the window with her tongue
and try to draw spit lines.
The bus braids through cars,
but it takes longer than an hour
to ride two stages
and a woman calls her husband
to pick her up at church square.
In Visagie Street the cars stand in a traffic jam
and it becomes night
while we wait in the traffic
and I embark from the bus
and twist through the pedestrians
and everywhere there are people
that stand in dark corners
and alleyways
and shout at each other in foreign languages.
At Church square I see stars in the sky,
but uncle Paul looks friendly
while the lights
of a few cars passes by
and I see how his men
are protecting him
and there’s nobody else in the street
and I wonder what to do
if the last bus has already left.
I wait at night at a bus stop
and an old black man
comes and stand near me
and we are both glad,
to catch a ride
on the last bus.
The bus is lighted brightly
And it’s comfortable and hot inside
and I see the zoo passing by
just before the bus stops for me
and red lights
disappears in the distance
and the evening wind tugs at my jacket,
but my house is near.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Nightwalker
I sleep at night
On a cloud high on the horizon
And when I close my eyes
My soul is struck by lightning
Then I sleep at night
Like a storm
Oh, I walk the night
cause your head is gone from my pillow
And when the twilight shines
My eyes crash through the windows
cause I sleep at night without you
When its dark and the night lays me down
When the moon shines the light on the ground
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
Oh, I dream at night
It must be a madmans rainbow that Im chasing
cause when I close my eyes
I feel your sweet sensation
cause I dream at night about you
When its dark and the night lays me down
When the moon shines the light on my ground
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Many Lights Do You See?
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one to say that night has come
And there's one that guards this jagged shore
And there's one to call the children home
And there's one to light the path they take
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one to keep the shadows off
And there's one that tells me she got home
And there's one to read his novel by
And there's one that warms this dreary room
And there's one to watch the baby sleep
And there's one to count the blinking stars
And there's one that I just can't forget
And there's one that I remember too
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one that waits for closing time
And there's one that gets left on all night
And there's one that marks the western sky
And it shines down on the quiet street
And there's one that floods the darker parts
And there's one that hurts my tired eyes
And there's one that says she's not asleep
And there's one that waits for her to wake
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There is one that spills out on the beach
And it sparkles on the jetting rocks
And there is one that waits for tired ships
That sleep within this tired port
song performed by by Bright Eyes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A moment in eternity
Outside the streets are filled with light,
doors are closed and locked
when the nightly silence is lingering,
while some people look out through dark windows
we walk with your hand fitting into mine,
silver-white stars are all across the night sky
and we talk about places where we have been,
the old oak tree throws a huge dark spot.
Your lips are suddenly hot, sweet and soft
when my heart beats delightful in my throat,
a dove calls to its mate in the dark night
when in that moment time stops suddenly,
your eyes say that you also love me
and I look into their bright depths.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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