The Bushman tracker
Men with eyes like his
has a special ability
to see, to comprehend
reading the distances
but also the cryptic tell tale
of tracks left on the ground
and finding greater meaning
from small things
and he can immediately tell
the number of animals or men
and can point out exactly what
had passed and tell exactly when
and we could follow him on an enemy track
being secure to trace
a couple of passing men
over the open veldt.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A lonely young boy herds some cattle
In the open veldt
a lonely young six year old boy
herds some cattle
and follows them as they are grazing
following shoots of green grass
that appeared after the early summer rains
and he knows the names of every one
and with a knobbed walking-stick in his hands
he guides them while looking out
for leopards that are sneaking around
in the nearby hillocks
and time and again
his eyes is on the ground
finding tracks.
Out of an open blue sky
suddenly a big shade covers him
and before he realizes
that danger is upon him
a huge bird falls as quickly
as a bolt of lightning from the sky
with claws stretching out.
poem by Gert Strydom
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It’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
It’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
even the crickets and grasshoppers
are without sound
and the chopper drones away
leaving me and Johnny
and a few other men
with a Bushmen tracker
to follow a enemy spoor
and suddenly we walk straight in
to a ambush, right into a trap
and Johnny is dead, shot through the head
and three others as well and it feels as if I am in hell
and I am talking to myself
trying to get my bearings while firing at the enemy,
killing some and throwing two grenades
to advice them of my serious intentions
and the enemy shooting stops, as does that
of me and my men and I smell death
and are nauseous to the point of retching
and it’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
even the crickets and grasshoppers
are without sound.
poem by Gert Strydom
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An Overcast Day in June
Speeding along the highway
There's suddenly a bright
Explosion; unruly color
That calls to you from the passing blur:
The unexpected purple house
It's almost gone before you see it-
As if a river of lavender
Once flowed down that street
Left it's mark only on certain
Vulnerable things
One house coated on all sides
The house next to it seeming to sport
Only a single lavender door
I'm certain that if I could follow it closely
Look for the tell-tale lavender shoe tracks
I would note the lavender trace
Gradually wear thinner, house by house
Dwindle to a trellis or a shutter
Until it was just a slight stain
On a solitary front porch-
As if a child had spilled
His single pot of lavender
And had to finish his painting by number
With some garish dark purple
All the while wishing he could pour out
Collect, all that lavender, there preening itself
Under the trees, under the back lit clouds
As if it had been placed there precognitively
Years before, only to meet his need of a moment
On an overcast day in June.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Owl
It’s a high veldt evening and an owl hoots
lingers with flapping wings,
stretched out claws and beak
and its eyes glow yellow
under the silver moon.
Does it follow the tropic of Capricorn
not weary or worn
follow the actions of the turning earth,
determining every small living thing?
Gracefully it flies on
in clear sight
as if the darkness is brought daylight
and then finding a new direction
zooms in on something, a tiny mouse or rat.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Bright Sky, On A Tower
Skies so bright and wondrous,
The enemy is within, without;
The tower-view has the highest-peak around,
I played all-day with my eyes, seeing is corrupt.
The bridges walk with wonder,
Above oceanic properties;
A road travels flawless, inside one.
Skies so clear, I gaze into distances
That reside, as some of us learn too clearly.
Under the morning sun a frown
Has come upon my features of coldness,
Hotness is special and far greater.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Through the eyes of fate
Saw you, never minded, cause i didn't know you. First glimpse of you made me wonder, how fate decided to bring me you, now at all times. Though I might not comprehend how that would be. What I comprehend is that you are special to me. Though either would that it be not so at some point in time, Through the eyes of fate, We are marched, And through the eyes the eyes of fate, Cupid hit the Spot.
poem by Anthony Gitoré
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The guard
We were observing, doing recognisance
on a enemy camp, had parachuted in
during the night, dropping from very high
and my comrades and I had leopard crawled,
catwalked from dark patch to dark patch,
from shadow to shadow
using the cover of knee high grass
and with the sun rising
was in a dense small bush
reporting back on tanks and armoured cars,
the number of soldiers seen,
how battle ready they seemed
when a little boy herded a few goats
and with a bone thin dog came along
and I let them go, not being able
to kill them as the enemy
and almost immediately we had to leave.
Soon hundreds of enemy soldiers
were dropped in search lines,
were trying to cordon us off
and my comrades wasn’t pleased with me,
as things could have been much easier
if I had killed that child
and we went into a river
cutting reeds to breathe through
and went under the surface
trying to shake off the enemy
that was closing in on us
and when the three of us left the river
some large crocodiles
were on the bank where we entered it
and we had the opportunity
to return to the enemy camp
where the next evening
an enemy Cuban soldier lit a big cigar
only a few paces from me
and the child was a far better guard than he.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Want To Go Back To The Veldt Again (Rondel Prime)
I want to go back to the veldt again
to watch nature to see little things,
to hear how pretty small red weavers sing,
to on my skin feel the summer’s cool rain
to live with harmony without some pain,
to get of God a clear understanding.
I want to go back to the veldt again
to watch nature to see little things,
and away from the city to remain,
to see flowers rise in the months of spring
opening and life slowly awakening,
I want to go back to the veldt again
to watch nature to see little things.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Enemy Tracks (Quatern)
There are many tracks on the ground,
enemies could be anywhere,
the spoor does the tracker astound,
he looks carefully here and there.
To me the tracks look all the same,
there are many tracks on the ground,
I do not know from where they came,
how enemies are to be found.
To the tracker it is renowned,
the way that it is set, its line
there are many tracks on the ground,
to me looking almost as mine.
We drink water under a tree
find a booby trap tightly bound
that almost is disposing me,
there are many tracks on the ground.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Time Passes
Time is passing while I am waiting
For true life to have some meaning-
Time is passing and I blindly
Count to ten upon my fingers-
Not knowing and not even able to distinguish
What is real from what is not?
One, two, three and the voices inside me won't stop commanding-
Four, five and six-
All I see are snakes within the bleakness and confinement of this room-
Seven, eight, and nine, and even through this dim light I believe I am being watched-
I count aloud to ten upon my fingers and
Time is passing and all that is all that I hear for the moment-
All that I see, I reach out to touch or to open my eyes to see-
Time has passed and everything is silent, without a trace of
Ever being near and once more I count,
Starting at seven, eight and then nine- watching the second hand on the wall clock and
Ten? Ten more hours to be locked inside of this empty, room where
The walls are barren and I am alone with my thoughts-
Time is passing and I would be running away, but there is nowhere to run to, except to
Places inside of my mind and one, two three and all that I see is
The walls of this empty room and a locked door-
I could count from one to a thousand and
Inside of this room I would remain- I could count to one million and
I would die before I even got there- so I count from one to three over and over because
Everything is seemingly easier when I am lost inside the world of my fantasies and
I realize now what is not truly real and threatening shall never harm me and
Time is passing and as I count, I am blissfully losing myself inside the world
I have made here inside of my mind for myself, alone…
This way time may pass even before the sun rises tomorrow, and then-and then?
My life perhaps shall have some meaning-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The road ahead dissolved into dust
The road ahead dissolved into dust
and we could not see the track
nor any of the other fighting vehicles
consisting out of Olifant main battle tanks
and Ratel armoured cars that were ahead of us.
Bushes were covering the veldt
on all sides and around us,
the early morning fog
had drifted over from the river
and worse still tried to cover things
and in the distance I heard the cannon
of a enemy tank blasting off a projectile
and almost felt the impact hitting us,
but it shrieked past
and at speed we left the track
rammed through some bushes
and the Ratel-90 armoured car
draw to a halt
and our return shot
found its mark
and we had to take another one
to make dead sure
of the destruction
of the Russian manufactured T-55 tank
before speeding away
trying to avoid being hit
and found another target
and one more and another after that
and later even filling the night
with bright flashing canon flame,
sending death out with projectiles
to whichever enemy that we found.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Come Lay Down
Come lay down at the edge
Come lay down at the broken edge
Come lay down at the feet of angels
Eyeing you in a northern sky
Come lay down at the end
Come lay down where the time's suspended
Come lay down and hear the voices
Calling you from a northern sky
Follow me and don't look down
You're alright
Come with me, forget you're high
It's alright in all
Your eyes are open and singing
Your eyes are open
And not quite breathing
Your eyes are open
You're seeing things
That I can't see, as hard as I try
Follow me and don't look down
You're alright
Come with me, forget you're high
It's alright
Don't look down
Keep your eyes off the ground
So afraid
These days will fall
Like tears down your face
Follow me and don't look down
You're alright
Come with me, forget you're high
It's alright
And alright,
Follow me, don't look down
You're alright
Come with me, forget you're high
It's alright, alright
song performed by by Howie Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Makes Us Human
I believe ability makes us intelligent, it distinguishes us from animals
I believe all have the ability to learn, to create art, to love
I believe we can let our ability go to waste, or we can let it flourish
I believe our ability that makes us human is our intelligence and good judgement
I believe many choose to ignore this ability and rely on animalistic instinct
I believe some humans treat animals better than humans
I believe to make this world peaceful we need to let our abilities flourish
It is curious that many people advocate humane treatment for animals, but treat actual humans inhumanely
poem by Lenore Lee
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On a spoor
We were hot on a fresh spoor
and the bushman tracker said
that the enemy were not far ahead
when we crossed through some dense bush
under some trees
and looking up I saw something on a branch
camouflaged, dappled into the shade
and yellow eyes peered down at me
filled with rage, with energy
and astounded more than anything
I brought the gun to bear,
but the pent up energy,
melted with languid grace
right into the tree
as if it wasn’t aware of me, aware of us
and we walked on past a clearing
into the open veldt where hip high grass
was interrupted by some green thorn bushes.
A huge male lion came bursting
out of one of the bushes
with swishing tale running at full speed
and we all froze in our strides with weapons ready
and it was almost
as if the light machinegun’s trigger was tempting me
to shoot the raging storming animal down
and at that moment I was relieved
that it was not the leopard that would jump,
from one of us after another at sheer speed
and at quick succession try to kill us all
being a expert at baboon hunting
and thus at killing primates
but the tracker had signalled for all of us
to wait when he saw it
and that party of special force soldiers
was ready to kill when that lion
came to a halt with swishing tail right in front of me
and I can still smell its foul breath
when it roared with wide-open jaws
and terror hit my stomach like a mighty fist
and I could have cut it down
blasting it right from the ground
but the ferocity, the beauty of that beast
halted me as if I was watching it in a dream
and I watched its yellow fangs and pink tongue
totally motionless trying to stare it down
and suddenly it turned around
walking back into the veldt
timid and kitten-eyed
disappearing into the grass, melting into it
poem by Gert Strydom
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Finding it-LOVE
Finding it is so hard and is rare
Finding it sometimes takes years
Finding it is something that should be handled with care
Finding it can bring you laughter instead of tears
Finding it can make you happy and free
Finding it can open the LOVE in your heart
Finding it will open your eyes to see
That one you do find it, you will see it has done its part
By Frank Pulver
poem by Frank Pulver
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Naming A Few Men
Naming a few men is too special,
Beasts of burden carry messages to them.
Riding a car or animal needs fuel,
It may be grit and steel to use your body
But those animals in the ground are not foolish.
Name them like a man who knows,
He understands basics and knowledge too great.
May the special noose be around a man of steel,
And then to hang him seems too special.
Name him one of those throwing actions to commit,
Acting the very same as animals.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Hands-on Involvement
Can you comprehend any of this?
With bricks crumbling to the ground...
Many collective in voice,
Are finding others to blame around.
Even though those bricks,
Were by them picked apart...
With a consciousness insisted.
And the blamed is laid on those trying to fix...
What the lips of those wicked,
Lay to say...
To remove themselves from it.
In well attended campaigns!
Used to smother any remembrance...
Of the many seeing them,
With their 'hands-on' involvement!
Can you comprehend any of this?
With bricks crumbling to the ground...
Many collective in voice,
Are finding others to blame around.
And the confused are alarmed,
Like guinea pigs addicted to abuses inflicted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gazing suicides
I thought of dying today
Gazing down to the train track below
So shiny and black.
I heard the tracks calling me to join them below.
I heard them say if you want to jump
Then jump go on just jump.
I though I'd chuck myself away
Thought I'd fall below
To the train tracks underneath.
I thought it through and through.
With nothing else left to do
I let the train tracks call me below.
I ve sufferd enough in this evil world
Theres to much evil that lurks.
The world is a sain place for some.
It wasnt for me
I lived a life full of pain.
Things got to much
So I listened to the tracks below me
I knew it made sense for me.
I took the plunge
And I jumped down to the tracks below me
As I fall
I will die below
Things are meant for some
And this was meant for me
The train tracks told me so
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Little Boxes
Every time we move,
we pack our little things in boxes,
and some inside our mind.
These are the special things;
we do no want to leave behind.
The special things we have,
that spell out love there.
The precious things we own,
that hold so many memories there,
whether they be large or small.
The little boxes we pack,
we make them all secure,
and mark them handle with care.
For nothing can replace,
the precious things we have there.
(20 June 2007)
poem by David Harris
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2 Of A Kind
You struck me like lightning
Turned my world upside down
When I first laid my eyes on you
This feelings really frightening
Cuz it seems to me Ive found
The perfect man of all for me to choose
Used to dream of such a man like you
Never thought it would come true
Boy you are the answer to my prayers
I never felt like this before and
You have opened up the door
Into a space that I would never dare
Cuz you give my life a meaning
And this love we have together
Is lifting my heart to a higher ground
I was searching, seeking, finding
Love came out from its hiding
And baby, Im so pleased at what I found
The way you seem to be, the only one for me
This love is truly special, were 2 of a kind
Ive got you on my mind, were 2 of a kind
This heart of mine is beating inside my chest
And baby, its you that I adore
The nights we spend together are by far the best
That any woman could be wishing for
Were lucky baby its like that
This aint no opposites atract
You make up for all the bad in me
So when days of trouble come around
You know Id never let you down
Right by your side is where I want to be
Cuz you give my life a meaning
And this love we have together
Is lifting my heart to a higher ground
I was searching, seeking, finding
Love came out from its hiding
And baby, Im so pleased at what I found
The way you seem to be, the only one for me
This love is truly special, were 2 of a kind
Ive got you on my mind, were 2 of a kind
Written by dr jam / vanessa williams
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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