Musso
Musso my ginger Persian cat
lies stretched out
and sleeping
on the box of my computer.
Every now and then
he opens his golden eyes
and yawns and stretches out
his golden-yellow striped
left foot.
When I stroke his head
he stretches it back
and there’s a smile
of pleasure
with two tiny protruding white teeth.
At times this beautiful golden monster
brings his presents to me
and any big grasshopper,
mouse, rat, bird
or snake
that he finds
surprises me at times.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Further he lies silent
When with his long fur coat
he comes and lies on my lap
and look at me with golden eyes
with black pupils,
his front paws tread softly
while he makes a nest for himself.
There’s a purr sound
coming from his throat
and further he lies silent
while my fingers
stroke his head
and woolly ginger stomach
and two paws
gather my hand at times
like only my serval can
[Reference: Ginger persian cat here referred to as a serval.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Away into the wide world
My golden ginger yellow eyed cat
went away
and it’s three days
that he’s already gone.
I wonder where
he is wandering
and miss
his praying eyes
and the gifts
that he brings to me.
It’s as if his white and black friend
knows something,
but not how
to express it
and at times
jumps from a tree
and comes to call me
and I cannot
find Musso anywhere.
It’s for him another thing
to have to move
and for the first time
to be locked out
and not being allowed
in the house
but choices I do not have
in connection with this
but to have
my animals still
or to say forever goodbye.
With the first rain
the dog Sasja
is wet at the window
and Musso
is busy
splashing water from his fur
and in my heart
and in my soul
there is a knife
that cuts right through me
while I hear
them moaning and wailing
and sometimes,
I also want
to go away into the wide world.
Still I pray for him
and do not want him
to suffer somewhere
and I wish
to have him back again.
[Note: I found him this afternoon (after writing the poem) in the storm water drain next to the road, from where he couldn’t get out. He replied when I called him and I had to lift and move concrete blocks with a crowbar to get him out.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Beautiful
Beautiful is the rising sun
that touches the dark world
glowing red hot,
like a coal from the fire
of the gods
Beautiful is the crystal blue sky
that stretches to the horizon,
with its purity and brings serenity
to every living thing.
Beautiful is the yellow moon
that awakens dreams,
of how wondrous
life on this earth
really is.
Beautiful is a wave
crashing over a rocky shore,
that sprays the intensity
and mysteries of nature
on the earth.
Yet all of these things
fade away into insignificance
against the smile on your face
and nothing can describe,
the light and expression
in your golden eyes.
You are far more
than beautiful to me
and no white Lily
or dark red Rose,
will ever hold
the same significance
that you bring to me.
When all is said and done
my life is completely empty
when you’re gone,
but when you are with me
life plays like the sweetest melody
and my greatest gift from life is you.
poem by Gert Strydom
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It’s war in my yard
It’s war in my yard
and the ginger Persian cat
lies stretched out
gazing at the trenches
where some gecko’s has disappeared
as if the golden eyes of it
can draw them out of cracks.
A little later the two dogs sniff under a bush
and chase something out of it
that draws a grey stripe
over the grass
past my window
and both cats
fly up with arching backs
and paws out deadly
to capture it.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hey, Hey, When My Golden Bird Fails
When my golden bird fails.
Hail oh hail.
The storms coming in.
Tear down the sail.
There so frail.
Dreams turn into dust before your eyes.
You must compromise.
Between heaven and hell.
Listen I think I hear church bells.
But hey hey.
When my golden bird fails.
There will be more deals.
Still I will prevail.
The thoughts in my head have gotten stale.
I think I need to steal.
Oh the adrenaline I feel.
I'm on my knees.
I stand then kneel.
As if there might be something of a higher power out there.
But I shall not compare.
I wear soul on the outside never looking in.
But hey hey.
When my golden bird fails.
I shall exhale.
I shall come out of my shell.
Show you my power.
It's my dying hour.
But my mind has goes sour.
Tweak it a little.
Take another pill.
So you don't lye awake for goodness sake.
All when my golden bird fails.
All all all when
but hey hey
when my golden bird fails.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Green Bird, Golden Bird.
A tired green bird flew a very long journey,
Came to a stop in a beautiful valley.
There were many birds of all colours singing and playing,
Among them he saw a beautiful golden bird,
Her feathers shining in the bright sunshine,
And her voice echoed melodiously.
Within a short time the green and golden birds were close friends,
They knew each other deeply by heart,
Passing the days, flying from valley to valley,
And resting from tree to tree.
Then one sad day, golden bird must return,
She too had flown from across the vast ocean,
Even though it broke the green bird's heart,
But he was willing to let go, and before she left, .. he asked;
Golden bird, have I full-filled my promises to you?
That I would never hurt you,
That I would protect you with my life,
That I would share my provisions with you,
That I would make you happy and smiling always!
Is there any single word to describe all these?
Golden bird,
I will pray for your lasting happiness,
I will never forget your overflowing kindness,
You have nested permanently in my heart…and lastly,
I dream for us to be able to fly together again,
in unimaginable beautiful green heaven!
poem by Desert Life
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One Golden Rule
Theres a heart in the middle of somewhere tonight
Screaming for reasons or just a way out
I put the shirt off my back on a wager that says
Theres one every night from my old school yard days
I hear you say one golden rule
One golden rule
Theres been times Ive been stood in the wind and the rain
Freezing and busted and tricked out of luck
And I cursed my teachers for all of their reading
What we needed most cant be found in them books
One golden rule
Now they teach you to swim but they dont speak of the danger
Tell you the truth but they never say why
Put you on ice that is thin and tell you its winter
Without one golden rule the truth is a lie
One golden rule
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0360 Ouch
There are times when
opening the Hallmark card
sent no doubt in good faith,
the banal cliche of a worn truism
expressed in groansome verse
opens one eye,
yawns,
stretches,
gathers itself
wearily
like its alarm just went off
and it's time for work
and lands you one
hard, right on the nose
ouch
I think it's called
humility
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Golden Lady
Looking in your eyes
Kind of heaven eyes
Closing both my eyes
Waiting for surprise
To see the heaven in your eyes is not so far
Cause Im not afraid to try and go it
To know the love and the beauty never known before
Ill leave it up to you to show it
And golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Take me right away
Looking at your hands
Hands can understand
Waiting for the chance
Just to hold your hand
A touch of rain and sunshine made the flower grow
Into a lovely smile thats blooming
And its so clear to me that youre a dream come true
Theres no way that Ill be losing
And golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Take me right away
A touch of rain and sunshine made the flower grow
Into a lovely smile thats blooming
And its so clear to me that your my dream come true
There is no way that Ill be losing
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Golden lady, golden lady
Id like to go there
Repeat and fade
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever
The bright blue
folds open through the room’s window
and I see rows of purple morning glories
that shoots in domes up to the wall.
There are purple irises
that keeps butterflies busy
and bees turn around the roses
and I can hear
them passing outside
and the soft sweet smell of jasmine
mixes with lavender
on the fresh morning breeze
and the ginger golden Persian cat
stretches himself out long
on the wall
of the fish pond
where he lies
looking at the world.
Somewhere Sussa
(the big black dog)
talks grumbling with herself
and I hear Flippie
passing carefully
on her small paws
in the corridor
and we are safe
in our fortress
and your hand lies
soft and spoiling over me
and I hear your breathing evenly
and while you sleep next to me
and I could stay forever like this.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sunday afternoon rest
The Kenwood plays
soft soothing instrumental music
and three dogs,
lies stretched out in front of the fireplace.
Tongs of fire lick hungry orange
on pieces of yellow and brown firewood,
while at the bottom
the coals are glowing red.
You paint a white Greek marble statue
of Aphrodite
and I see your painter’s pencil,
giving brush stroke upon brush stroke
of magic.
The afternoon drags on nicely
and red Barberton daisies,
on long green stems
hang out of a glass vase above the fireplace.
The dark painting
of the holy girl with the red garment
against the wall,
watch me amused
and the golden spaniel
sleeps with her head
on my lap.
I will forever
be able to enjoy
the pleasure,
of being with you.
a Hot cup of tea
steals me a kiss or two
and a DVD with the antics of Monk,
makes us laugh at dusk.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Man With The Golden Gun
The man
With the golden gun
Is waiting
Somewhere
Out there
For you
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
Demand
For the golden gun
It's high priced
Precise
And true
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in his case, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for you
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for yo-ou
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
The man with the go-o-olden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the go-o-lden
Gun in his case
The man who gave you the golden gun
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Reinstate Me Amongst Common Humanity
Oh, bring back my happiness
based on golden sunshine
green and yellow leaves
bathed in a golden light
against a beautiful
clear blue sky – take away
the gnawing fear
that these inabilities
you identified – to
manage a home
tidy and decorate,
makes me less
than a human being,
takes away my right
to be happy and content
in the golden autumn sunshine,
please reinstate me
amongst common
humanity…
poem by Margaret Alice
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Golden Touch
Golden touch
I was broken till you came along
You put the words back into my song
In your world is where I now belong
Golden touch is it that I love you so much
I was lost till I met you
I now love everything you do
I live now just because of you
Golden touch
Your are the object of my desire
I am like a cat on a high wire
For you I would walk in front of gunfire
Golden touch
This to you I must confess
Your mind and body I want to possess
I long for you to kiss and caress
Golden touch my Liege
You are the key to my success
My love I can no longer suppress
You are a beautiful princess
Golden touch
To me I grant you total access
With you I feel no distress
You have driven me to total madness
Golden touch
No longer these thoughts I can suppress
With my eyes you I’ve undress
If the world would know I could care less
Golden touch
These words I wish to you to express
You’ve brought me out of my sadness
You’ve driven back the darkness
You are my goddess and my empress
Golden touch
I wasn’t quite right and you made me see the light
You are what I’ve been longing for
With your love I could never want more
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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The red breasted dove
The red breasted dove swooped
over me
and giddy eyed
went to land
on the fallen tree
overgrown by flowers
in the rock garden
watching itself mirrored
in the window.
It didn’t see
the ginger Persian cat
until the last moment
and with paws stretched out
almost landed on its head.
It still had flight and swooped up
landing in the driveway
at the gate instead,
where the golden cocker Spaniel
went for it.
It flew up into the nearest tree
and disgusted cooed at the dog
who sat watching it
with big brown eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Under The Sea
This golden land,
This golden love,
This golden care,
This golden peace,
And of this Island of peace under the sea!
But seventy times seventy in th ename of love;
So try to forgive and be forgiven in this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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From Lome
17 and 48 years old,
13 and 34 years old,
Status! !
Peace and care,
Rum, ram, rim, ream, realm!
Rivalry,
Resistance,
Patience,
Feelings,
But, i am from Lome! !
Photography,
25 and 60 years old,
28 and 51 years old,
Compilations! !
Disk,
Disc,
Logic,
Logistic,
In the garden of snakes!
Like the golden snake;
But, you need the golden stick for your freedom.
The golden ball,
The golden gate,
The golden hole,
But with the freedom torch!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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How Sweet I Roam'd
How sweet I roam'd from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride
'Til the prince of love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!
He shew'd me lilies for my hair
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his garden fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.
poem by William Blake
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South Of Eden
1) nowhere to go on this hot afternoon turn on the fan lay down in my room
I cant believe in this town Im still here
No lover in sight, the mirage disapppears
Turn down the misic turn down the bed
Cause the drink I had this morning, went straight to my head, and I feel like a dream
Chorus -
Baby Im a real steal half price looking for a deal ?
Im golden all around, golden all around
2) in the middle of infinity in the heart of your eyes
I see 100 angels living 100 lives
In the dark of the night when youre alone in your bed
Do you ever think of me, am I a ghost in your head
Chorus -
Cause...baby
Golden all around golden all around-]
Bridge - round, all around, all around
3) found a park in the middle of town flat on my back no one around
The sky grew dark and the sun disappeared and down came rain of sweet lovers tears
Hitched a ride south of eden with a dog dusty and beaten
Speed so fast spinning in my head, and he turned to me and said...
Chorus -
...he said, baby Im a real steal
Half price looking for a deal
Im golden all around, golden all around...2x
Golden all around
Golden all around
song performed by by Zuba
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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a Cat’s dream
He stretched out on the ground
lying in the sun
and the heat on the long hair
of the red-golden ginger coat
felt really great
and the golden eyes
of the Persian closed
while it dozed away
and air flowed softly
through its flat pink nose.
Two sharp little white teeth
pointed past its lip
as if ready to clip
and stripes ran everywhere
like those of a tiger.
He’d been a good cat
all his life,
cuddled against
the master and his wife,
caught rats, mice
and even snakes
and brought them
as gifts to the humans
that he loved.
Still on that day
while he slept
he prayed to all the gods
that took cats to heart,
to have a tiger’s day
and be able
to live and play
for just one day
like a tiger.
The dream became a nightmare
and two vicious Rottweilers
chased him up a tree
growling, barking
and leaping up in the air,
but while he slept
his prayer was granted
and a ferocious tiger
rushed down
clawing at the hounds
even before it landed
on the ground.
Torn, bleeding and wailing
the two dogs
ran whining away
and in terror
let every other dog know
a tiger was afoot.
When he rushed down the street
all the people that he met
were totally fretted out
and ran away in sheer terror
and he found nobody
to play with
as even the other cats
were terrified
and kept to themselves.
As the day went on
he got really hungry
and drank water
from a wishing well
where tourists stopped
at a distance
to gaze at him
from their cars
while a squadron of police
drew near in great fear.
To be a Persian cat again,
seemed much, much better
in this place at this time
and he wished
and by chance
he bumped a coin
from the ledge
down into the waters.
poem by Gert Strydom
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