The visit
You were residing in Anne Fisher house
and I in Salisbury
at the private university
lying at the foot
of Helderberg mountain.
I bought a box of chocolates
early one night
at a Café in Somerset West
and they even wrapped it
and while the sun
was still high in the sky
I went to visit you.
The student on duty
called you
over the microphone
and suddenly you looked shy
but was quite happy
to see me.
We walked out on the ramp
leading to the foyer
and you had a white jacket on
and stood chatting
in the open,
and we were just
a guy and a girl
that was falling in love.
I could see the beach
over your shoulder
and the blue sea
but my attention
was on your smiling face
and your mesmerizing eyes.
You gave me a quick kiss,
just a peck on the lips
to say thank you
and my heart sang
but suddenly
a camera flashed
catching us.
A day later
I was called in
by the men’s dean
and he spread
some photos
on his desk
out in front of me.
There was anger in his eyes
and he said
that my ridiculous relationship
with you must end immediately.
If I went out of my way
to do something seriously wrong
I would have been able
to understand his reaction,
but for trying to date you
and for a moment
I was dumfounded.
“I have proof that you were
closer than three meters to her
and you even kissed her
and it’s totally against the policy.”
Before coming to University
I was called up by the military,
completed two years of service
and I wasn’t a boy
after seeing action in the war
in South West Africa
and in Angola.
I told him
that he just as well
can stop the ridiculous relationship
with his wife.
He was well built
and probably a fitness freak
and got up so suddenly
that his chair
went to the ground.
His hands was on my chest
and he rammed me
into the wall
pushing his face
into mine
screaming: “Say that again.”
My anger went away
but the calm was the same
with which I had faced
the enemy
and in my eyes
he saw death
coming on.
“Take your hands of me, ”
I said to him
and didn’t have
to say anything more
and he stepped away,
closed his eyes
and prayed for me
and then dismissed me.
[Note: The sun at times in summer sets at eight (20h00) in the Cape Town aria.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Punishment parade
I was in residence in Salisbury house
at the private university
lying at the foot
of Helderberg mountain
when in my fourth year
somebody with a master key
broke in to my room
stole clothes
and some bottles of cool drink
and even took a cake
out of the refrigerator.
Nols, a first year friend,
who was studying the same degree
was fresh out of the army
where he had been a lieutenant
and caught the thief red handed
stealing from his room
and to this day I do not know
how he convinced him
to confess,
but like a military prisoner
he and his roommate
marched that thief
right to my door.
His race was Coloured
mixed with Indian
(and why I address race here
will later become clear)
and sorry wasn’t enough
and what he didn’t sell
he drank and ate
and Nols asked:
“what do we do,
with the prisoner? ”
I made a joke
about a punishment parade,
which they took very seriously
and every day that student came
as their prisoner
and did push ups and lifted weights,
until he was convinced
to pay me back,
but it wasn’t the end
of the story.
Six o’clock one morning
on a winters day
the dean of Salisbury house
called me in.
“Who do you think you are
to call the Rector
at five in the morning
about your car
that was defecated on
and threaten with
a racial war? ”
My face was blank,
as it was the first
knowledge that I got
about faeces
on my yellow BMW.
A master degree student
who’s nickname was Ouboet (big brother)
walked in
and took the responsibility
for the call on him
but I wanted gibe that dean
and said that I am going
to the police to lay charges
and to let them take samples.
He took me very seriously,
tried to argue
and prayed for me
and both Ouboet and I suppressed laughs
and immediately I knew
which people had tampered
with my car
and I used a red fire house
to spray it off.
I didn’t have to wait long
before the responsible party
drove his new white Golf gti
straight into a big oak tree,
landed in hospital
and left the university.
poem by Gert Strydom
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To have a girl like you
I remember you coming
to Pretoria station
to say goodbye
while I caught the train
to a military camp
and four months of war.
The clock on the wall
showed that we were
half an hour early
and I bought you a can of Coke
at the café
before we walked
to the right platform
where the train
departing to Cape Town
had just come in
and I carried the brown duffle bag
and was dressed in my brown uniform
with shining boots and beret
and your big blue eyes
had a life of their own.
It was always first Cape Town,
then De Brug (at Bloemfontein) ,
next Luhatla and after that to war
and by then you knew that route.
There was a sad smile on your face
and you were beautiful
in a classical way and slender
and I gave you a hug
and a goodbye kiss
and when that train left
we both waved.
Other soldiers where also
looking and waving at you
and some to loved ones
and another officer said
that I was lucky
to have a girl like you
and the next goodbye
was at Waterkloof military airbase,
but you wouldn’t be in it
and I didn’t know it then.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The spoor
We were flown in
by a Puma helicopter
hot on the tracts
of a group of terrorists
who had attacked some farms.
A Bushman tracker was in the front
on the spoor, armed with a old R1,
two of the section
was armed with LMG’s
and I carried the a short barrel R5
and it was very hot
under a merciless sun.
The tracker told us
that one of the enemy
was wounded and at places
we saw drops of blood
and it looked
as if he was dragging his leg
in the way that he walked.
The going was fast
as we didn’t want to let them pass
the chop line back into Angola
and we were at a jog.
Suddenly in the distance
there was a firefight
and some shots rang out
sounding like AK-47’s
and locking our weapons
we hastened,
not knowing if another patrol
or who or what
had run into the enemy.
When got on the scene
the wounded terrorist was dead
trampled by a African Buffalo
who gored him
before setting on its enemy’s tracts.
He was left behind
by the group
who had come across an African Buffalo
and had fired at it,
only wounding that black beast
and had run away in the front of it.
The Bushman smiled and shook his head
laughing because of the actions
of the stupid terrorists
and we were hot on the tracks
of the Buffalo
following through a rocky dried out wadi
past some bushes
and into longer grass
when suddenly the eyes of the tracker
went huge as saucers
and he turned around
stumbled past me
and dropped his gun
on the ground right
next to me
running as if for his life.
This was quite awkward
seeing a man run
who had fought numerous
firefights with me
without a whimper of fear
now running as if
the devil himself
was on his heels
but the Buffalo
had turned around
on its tracks.
I saw that African beast
with eyes glaring almost red
and nostrils wide open
and horns lowered
and knew that my rifle
wouldn’t stop it
and if I didn’t I would be dead,
but the R1 would probably
since its larger full metal jacket bullets
could rip right through trees.
It must have been the quickest
that I have ever
picked up a gun
exchanging it for mine
bringing it to my shoulder
and started firing
and I could scarcely
believe my luck
when that buffalo bull
dropped there at my feet.
[References: R1= A rifle similar to the Belgian FN. R4= A rifle similar to the Israeli Gaelil. R5= a Shorter barrelled version of the R4 with folding stock, sometimes used by paratroopers and other special force soldiers. LMG= Light Machinegun. Chop line= Cleared aria on the border between South West Africa (now Namibia) and Angola.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Lament
When I was but a primary school boy
I would play with a girl
as my mate
and she had freckles
close to her nose
and red hair swishing
in a neat ponytail
and I would blush
when she gave me
a innocent kiss
and my heart
would miss a beat
and we would share our sandwiches
or eat each others
and to me that girl was really neat.
When I got a little older
I was really shy, when a lovely girl
caught my eye
and I would walk her home
after class
and we would talk
about our dreams
and go together to the library
and for a swim at the town pool
and she would watch me
doing athletics and playing rugby
and I would watch her
playing netball
and sometimes I would surprise her
with a rose or two
or with some chocolates
and get some French kisses
and her blue eyes sparkled
and she was more than just cool.
When I was in metric
I met a beautiful girl at the beach
where she was tanning
and her eyes devoured me
and I was full of confidence
and electricity leaped between us
and that summer holiday
she taught me a thing or two
and that girl
was honest and lovely
and her way of living
still lingers in me.
When I was a young man
and called up to the army
and went to war
having to kill a man or two
in order to survive and stay alive
I grew up pretty quickly,
knew about integrity
and staying true
and when my girlfriend left me
to immigrate overseas
my world was falling apart
when I met a beautiful captain
right there in a military camp
while preparing for war
and she seduced me
and more than that
we made love
as if there’s no tomorrow
and shared some secrets
with each other
before I had to go
and she disappeared
while still being dear to me.
At university I met the girl
of my dreams
and it was magic
when she liked me too
and falling really in love
was great
with the person
destined for you
and I wrote her some poems,
gave her some cards, chocolates
and expensive perfume
and every look, every touch, every kiss,
every embrace was the best
that I have ever had
and we got engaged and married
and at my first job
a colleague at work
became my so called friend
and he had to have her
at any cost
and then I lost her
and went to stay
a thousand miles away.
Working I had a choice of girls
but yearned for the one that I had lost
for a period of years long,
but another gorgeous girl found me
and she was my sunshine, my rain,
my breakfast, my lunch and dinner
and we lived a thousand years
in the short time that we had
and if my life was destined
only to be happy with a girl like that
it had been well worth the living
as she was dedicated to me
and like no other would ever be,
but destiny rolled its dice
and I lost her to death
very suddenly
and met a girl with two boys
just older than toddlers
and for years tried to built
a life with them,
but she cheated me
time and again
and left me
for another lover
and tried to ruin me
with the leaving.
Then I met a girl
who was a painter, musician
and poet
and I tried to connect
with her soul
and what was between us
went much deeper
than mere looks,
and when we broke up
I couldn’t understand why
and I still wonder
how she now feels about me?
l’Envoi
And now all those days have gone bye
and I would be happy
to have a Sunday wife
who knows how to be true
even if we have to pray night and day
and even if angels
would come from her womb
as long as she really loves me.
[Reference: Lament by Dylan Thomas.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The moment that the sun disappeared into the sea
The moment that the sun disappeared into the sea
church bells were ringing in the distance,
while I found you alone on the beach
with a seagull with a broken wing.
With streaming tears you could hardly breathe,
to me you were really beautiful
when the wind whirled, were blowing through your hair
and with the poor bird you glance was rigid
while we walked along the white beach
the waterline was glistening
with the orange-red of the last sun
the bird in your hands were suddenly lifeless
and immediately the night was dark,
for the bird we did what we could.
When my eyes caught yours at Hartenbos
the see foamed blue, alive behind us,
I felt my heart bounding suddenly somewhat anxious,
there was something intimate and magical present,
while I saw stars in your eyes
without deserving them.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Merciless Jill
I was in the forest one day,
With my friends and marrows,
All of us were very gay,
We were happy and out of sorrows.
Suddenly my eyes caught a pretty jill,
She was pacing like a hart,
To talk to her was my will,
She made place in my heart.
I forgot all seeing her glamour,
Going to her was my intention,
I was captivated by her murmur,
She turned back realizing my action.
As moon was her beautiful face,
And eyes were brighter than stars,
There was smile on her face,
She looked as she would reside on stars.
Her foot were light and hair long,
And was attrative, too much smart,
To the fairies, she must belong,
And her song touched my heart.
She pointed at me to move with her,
We were advancing an edificeward,
She was too, I was very gay with her,
Touched my heart her every word.
Reaching edifice, it began to rain,
He face turned into full of pain,
Telling her tragedy, her eyes began to rain,
I consoled and assured her to fain.
There she fed me fairy's food,
And her eyes showed love for me,
She sang a song in fresh mood,
Hearing her song, I was very gee.
She refused me to go back,
And gave me a bed to sleep,
I felt comfort when I put my back,
She came and lulled me asleep.
My eyes opened at mid of night,
In slaughter house I found myself,
I stood and saw a horrible sight,
Cut heads were lying and nowhere my elf,
Suddenly she appeared with a sword,
And was advancing towards me,
She didn't speak even a word,
And reaching, she stood near me.
While laughing she turned a bad spirit,
I was about to be slain by her hand,
With God's grace, she was badly hit,
By an angel, she killed and fell on the sand.
(14th February,2006)
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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On a Durban street at twilight
On a Durban street at twilight,
when lights started piercing the coming night
in winter with rain sieving down
like you would expect in Cape Town
a gorgeous girl walked right up to me,
and it’s still one hell of a memory.
For long moments her eyes looked into mine
and she slid her slender arms around my neck
giving me much more than a peck
and her hair silky and fine
brushed against my face
before she kissed me even more passionately
and spellbound and probably surprised, unfortunately
I let her slip away unknown, totally without a trace
and still this bugs me, for what I do not know
and why I let her go?
poem by Gert Strydom
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The words of a child
When we were small
my younger brother and I
had to stay with the Von Hörsten’s
during the day,
when my mother went to work
and we had to play outside
and was threatened
that we would get dresses
when we wanted
to come into the house,
but this staying
ended dramatically
in my sixth year.
One night my mother wanted to know
how it is going
with out daily visitation,
whereupon I told her
that every thing was well
and my brother said
that I eat my food very slowly.
I told her
that I do not like cabbage
and that we have to eat everything
or get a hiding
if something is left
on our plates.
My mother said that vegetables
are good and necessary to eat
and I accepted it like that,
but it wasn’t the end
of the story.
As a innocent child
my brother told this incident
to one of the Von Hörsten boys
who told it to his dad.
I played in the hillock above their house
when all of the Von Hörsten boys suddenly
came running out of the farmhouse
and went in all directions
calling for me,
but I could immediately see
that there was big trouble
from the way
that they were shouting and searching.
So I stayed were I was
and wondered about what was going on
and what terrible thing
I had done unknowing?
The much older and bigger boys
sneaked up that hill
and jumped on me
from behind
and grabbed me
and I was carried
right up to their dad.
Uncle Hendrik was a man
that didn’t take nonsense
from anyone
and wanted to know from me,
why I did not want to eat
his wife’s food
and why I am saying
that her food tastes awful?
So I said that it isn’t true
and he shouted
that I must stop lying
and jagged me closer
on my neck
with the hook of his walking stick
and hit me with it.
Stuttering I couldn’t get words
to explain
the circumstances
and then he shouted
talk man talk
and stop thinking
what to lie about
while he was still hitting me.
So I said
that I didn’t like cabbage
and got another hiding
and was said to be silent
or to talk the truth.
So I said that God is my witness
and that a day would come
that his words would also dry up
and be totally in confusion.
Like a dog I was chased away
with a footsack shouted at me
and fled away from
his walking stick
to our house.
The Von Hörsten’s called my mother
and told her about every thing
and she knew
from where my trouble came
and for a whole month
my brother had to eat cabbage,
because he talked
out of the house
and never again
we stayed over with the Von Hörsten’s.
l’Envoi
Many years later
when I was at University
I saw uncle Hendrik Von Hörsten
on the campus
and we greeted each other
and spoke normally
about the things happening in the country
and about our families,
but when he walked away
other students spoke to him
and the once known writer
spoke back in jabbering language
as if he didn’t know
what to say
and was totally confused.
It was said
that he had Alzheimer’s,
but until today I wonder
about the power
coming from
the words of a child.
[Reference: The word uncle used here out of respect and local custom and not to point out family relationship.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Surprise Me Again
Well I remember the day when she said go away
I rearrange my hair
Well I cant take anymore
I bought some natural food
And then I fell on the floor
Well I cant take anymore
I need a change of address
By the way, why cant you smile
She said at first it was great
And in the middle I stayed
But at the end I was sick
I said Ive got to get out quick
Then you suddenly smiled
You took me by surprise
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
Well I remember the time
Wrapped up nice and cosy
She was washing my hair
Well I was thinking of midnight, falling in love
Watching the rain fall
When we relax Im going to sleep on your chest
And listen to your beats
And lets go to norway, live in rain and snow
And get totally depressed about nothing
At all really hello
Then you suddenly smiled
You took me by surprise
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled, again and again
You cant smile
Then you suddenly smiled
You took me by surprise
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled
You suddenly smiled
You took me by again
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 08: The Box With Silver Handles
Well,—it was two days after my husband died—
Two days! And the earth still raw above him.
And I was sweeping the carpet in their hall.
In number four—the room with the red wall-paper—
Some chorus girls and men were singing that song
'They'll soon be lighting candles
Round a box with silver handles'—and hearing them sing it
I started to cry. Just then he came along
And stopped on the stairs and turned and looked at me,
And took the cigar from his mouth and sort of smiled
And said, 'Say, what's the matter?' and then came down
Where I was leaning against the wall,
And touched my shoulder, and put his arm around me . . .
And I was so sad, thinking about it,—
Thinking that it was raining, and a cold night,
With Jim so unaccustomed to being dead,—
That I was happy to have him sympathize,
To feel his arm, and leaned against him and cried.
And before I knew it, he got me into a room
Where a table was set, and no one there,
And sat me down on a sofa, and held me close,
And talked to me, telling me not to cry,
That it was all right, he'd look after me,—
But not to cry, my eyes were getting red,
Which didn't make me pretty. And he was so nice,
That when he turned my face between his hands,
And looked at me, with those blue eyes of his,
And smiled, and leaned, and kissed me—
Somehow I couldn't tell him not to do it,
Somehow I didn't mind, I let him kiss me,
And closed my eyes! . . . Well, that was how it started.
For when my heart was eased with crying, and grief
Had passed and left me quiet, somehow it seemed
As if it wasn't honest to change my mind,
To send him away, or say I hadn't meant it—
And, anyway, it seemed so hard to explain!
And so we sat and talked, not talking much,
But meaning as much in silence as in words,
There in that empty room with palms about us,
That private dining-room . . . And as we sat there
I felt my future changing, day by day,
With unknown streets opening left and right,
New streets with farther lights, new taller houses,
Doors swinging into hallways filled with light,
Half-opened luminous windows, with white curtains
Streaming out in the night, and sudden music,—
And thinking of this, and through it half remembering
A quick and horrible death, my husband's eyes,
The broken-plastered walls, my boy asleep,—
It seemed as if my brain would break in two.
My voice began to tremble . . . and when I stood,
And told him I must go, and said good-night—
I couldn't see the end. How would it end?
Would he return to-morrow? Or would he not?
And did I want him to—or would I rather
Look for another job?—He took my shoulders
Between his hands, and looked down into my eyes,
And smiled, and said good-night. If he had kissed me,
That would have—well, I don't know; but he didn't . .
And so I went downstairs, then, half elated,
Hoping to close the door before that party
In number four should sing that song again—
'They'll soon be lighting candles round a box with silver handles'—
And sure enough, I did. I faced the darkness.
And my eyes were filled with tears. And I was happy.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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A Pair Of Brown Eyes
One summer evening drunk to hell
I stood there nearly lifeless
An old man in the corner sang
Where the water lilies grow
And on the jukebox johnny sang
About a thing called love
And its how are you kid and whats your name
And how would you bloody know?
In blood and death neath a screaming sky
I lay down on the ground
And the arms and legs of other men
Were scattered all around
Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed
Then prayed and bled some more
And the only thing that I could see
Was a pair of brown eyes that was looking at me
But when we got back, labeled parts one to three
There was no pair of brown eyes waiting for me
And a rovin a rovin a rovin Ill go
For a pair of brown eyes
I looked at him he looked at me
All I could do was hate him
While ray and philomena sang
Of my elusive dream
I saw the streams, the rolling hills
Where his brown eyes were waiting
And I thought about a pair of brown eyes
That waited once for me
So drunk to hell I left the place
Sometimes crawling sometimes walking
A hungry sound came across the breeze
So I gave the walls a talking
And I heard the sounds of long ago
From the old canal
And the birds were whistling in the trees
Where the wind was gently laughing
And a rovin a rovin a rovin Ill go
For a pair of brown eyes
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Lovers
I like sitting at this particular table in this lively Café
eating my cheese toastie and drinking black coffee.
At a nearby table, two lovers are kissing and making up,
but then after their last kiss they decided to disconnect
to take a deep drag from their shared cigarette
and to take a sip from their cooling coffee cup.
Placing the cigarette in the ash tray they cuddled back together
fitting like a glove with their arms around each other
totally preoccupied, giving no one else a second look.
After several minutes of holding, kissing and whispering,
and the occasional passionate tongue in mouth sucking
it looked as though they were here for the rest of the day.
Suddenly her chair flew backwards, as she quickly stood up
rocking the table, which spilled the coffee from their cups
and the ashtray to hit the floor, as she pushed him away.
She then slapped his face and shouted at him in anger,
but he sat calm and collected, and said that he loved her,
and she had misunderstood what he was trying to say.
With her hot temper cooling she decided to sit back down
and asked him a question, which caused her face to frown,
as he explained she dragged the chair closer to him again.
Picking up the fallen ashtray she listened to what he said
whilst others in the Café were drinking and being fed,
and outside it persistently poured with torrential rain.
She ordered two fresh coffees, with a deep sigh of regret
while he lit up another blue tipped cigarette,
which they both drew upon until none remained.
He held out his hands as they looked into each other’s eyes,
with a smile she touched his finger, as though to apologise
then dragged her chair closer and began kissing again.
I like sitting at this particular table in this lively Café
eating my cheese toastie and drinking black coffee
watching people fall out who later make up,
and it’s by no means unusual to see in this busy place
a few exchanged words followed by a slap across the face
and then a kiss and make up, over a fresh coffee cup.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Couage
its right around the corner
from al the first
and last times
the bad memories
as unforgetable
as a tornado
they'll shock u
and suprise u
and to all the wonderful moments
the first time u talked to me
was like the first light
like cupid had stuck me
with an arrow
and the first time u kissed me
when ur lips met mine
no more thinking
i had no more worries
and later
when everyone told you lies
trying to break us apart
still u stood
right by my side
they called u names
for being with me
but u never backed down
you never gave into them
and u always kept
loving me with no problem
later,
they faced u with
threats and death
but u had me
and i had u
when the silence came
and the sky above thundered
they were coming for you
but u faced them head on
with all your heart and soul
not a single tear
nor any rage
but all the courage in the world
you held every lil bit
and to me, it was outstanding
i couldnt help but smile
and hold your hand
you were so very perfect
in my eyes....
and as we stood there
awaiting death
i realized u saying me
wasnt courage at all
it was simply love
poem by Kendyll Brown
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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 02: The Fulfilled Dream
More towers must yet be built—more towers destroyed—
Great rocks hoisted in air;
And he must seek his bread in high pale sunlight
With gulls about him, and clouds just over his eyes . . .
And so he did not mention his dream of falling
But drank his coffee in silence, and heard in his ears
That horrible whistle of wind, and felt his breath
Sucked out of him, and saw the tower flash by
And the small tree swell beneath him . . .
He patted his boy on the head, and kissed his wife,
Looked quickly around the room, to remember it,—
And so went out . . . For once, he forgot his pail.
Something had changed—but it was not the street—
The street was just the same—it was himself.
Puddles flashed in the sun. In the pawn-shop door
The same old black cat winked green amber eyes;
The butcher stood by his window tying his apron;
The same men walked beside him, smoking pipes,
Reading the morning paper . . .
He would not yield, he thought, and walk more slowly,
As if he knew for certain he walked to death:
But with his usual pace,—deliberate, firm,
Looking about him calmly, watching the world,
Taking his ease . . . Yet, when he thought again
Of the same dream, now dreamed three separate times,
Always the same, and heard that whistling wind,
And saw the windows flashing upward past him,—
He slowed his pace a little, and thought with horror
How monstrously that small tree thrust to meet him! . . .
He slowed his pace a little and remembered his wife.
Was forty, then, too old for work like this?
Why should it be? He'd never been afraid—
His eye was sure, his hand was steady . . .
But dreams had meanings.
He walked more slowly, and looked along the roofs,
All built by men, and saw the pale blue sky;
And suddenly he was dizzy with looking at it,
It seemed to whirl and swim,
It seemed the color of terror, of speed, of death . . .
He lowered his eyes to the stones, he walked more slowly;
His thoughts were blown and scattered like leaves;
He thought of the pail . . . Why, then, was it forgotten?
Because he would not need it?
Then, just as he was grouping his thoughts again
About that drug-store corner, under an arc-lamp,
Where first he met the girl whom he would marry,—
That blue-eyed innocent girl, in a soft blouse,—
He waved his hand for signal, and up he went
In the dusty chute that hugged the wall;
Above the tree; from girdered floor to floor;
Above the flattening roofs, until the sea
Lay wide and waved before him . . . And then he stepped
Giddily out, from that security,
To the red rib of iron against the sky,
And walked along it, feeling it sing and tremble;
And looking down one instant, saw the tree
Just as he dreamed it was; and looked away,
And up again, feeling his blood go wild.
He gave the signal; the long girder swung
Closer to him, dropped clanging into place,
Almost pushing him off. Pneumatic hammers
Began their madhouse clatter, the white-hot rivets
Were tossed from below and deftly caught in pails;
He signalled again, and wiped his mouth, and thought
A place so high in the air should be more quiet.
The tree, far down below, teased at his eyes,
Teased at the corners of them, until he looked,
And felt his body go suddenly small and light;
Felt his brain float off like a dwindling vapor;
And heard a whistle of wind, and saw a tree
Come plunging up to him, and thought to himself,
'By God—I'm done for now, the dream was right . . .'
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seventh Heaven (triolets)
The moon hangs almost solitary
shining like a searchlight
while it reflects on the sea
The moon hangs almost solitary
triggers a memory
before the blackness of the fall of night,
the moon hangs almost solitary
shining like a searchlight
reminding me of the way
which things between us once used to be,
before you went away,
reminding me of the way
we used to kiss and play,
emotions come quite suddenly,
reminding me of the way
which things between us once used to be.
One we were in spirit and body.
Two persons falling for one another,
and immediately we were very happy and giddy.
One we were in spirit and body,
much happier than everybody,
going everywhere together,
one we were in spirit and body.
two persons falling for one another.
Three in a relationship to you,
to you seemed much better
but at the end it caused us to be through.
Three in a relationship to you
unfastened our glue,
and suddenly I get your letter,
three in a relationship to you,
to you seemed much better.
Four gulls fly past screeching,
but there’s something familiar in your smile,
your eyes are bright and touching.
Four gulls fly past screeching,
and this can be far-reaching
as it’s obvious that you want to reconcile,
four gulls fly past screeching,
but there’s something familiar in your smile.
Five years ago when we unexpectedly met again
I saw your face light up like the sun
on a winter day full of sieving rain.
Five years ago when we unexpectedly met again
I was still full of pain
and here you are just after the new day have begun,
five years ago when we unexpectedly met again
I saw your face light up like the sun.
Six times we have been in touch
over the last twenty years
but then you did not care much.
Six times we have been in touch
and our feelings are now such
that you drive away my fears,
six times we have been in touch
over the last twenty years.
Seven diamonds were in your ring
and I still owe you a honeymoon
which we did not have with our wedding.
Seven diamonds were in your ring,
we feel as if our love is blossoming
and this time I will not let you leave soon,
seven diamonds were in your ring
and I still owe you a honeymoon.
poem by Gert Strydom
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While on weekend pass
In 1988 when I was called up
for a military camp, to go to war
while doing duty in the operational aria
I got a lift with the Flossie (the mail plane) ,
to Waterkloof air force base
for a quick weekend pass,
and brought my kit
and sub-machinegun along
visited my fiancée,
got the key of her apartment
from the caretaker who was very patriotic
and waited in the apartment
as a surprise to her
when she got home from work
and took a quick shower
just after arriving, to be fresh and neat
and when I closed the tap
I heard somebody walking
around in the flat,
but immediately realized
that it wasn’t her
and thought that a intruder,
a thief or someone like that
had entered and that I would be able to
catch that person red handed
and only wrapped in a towel
around my hips, sneaked out to the bedroom
grabbed the R5 sub-machinegun
and rushed into the lounge
where I pointed the gun
threatening on the new maid.
Sufficing to say that on her very first day
she saw me armed with the military rifle,
gave one big yell,
ran out of the door screaming blue murder
and never was seen again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Before Choir One Friday Eve
Before choir practice
before entering
the vestry door
you and Judith
stayed behind
and waited until
the others
had gone inside
and Judith said
look at those stars
and how dark blue
the sky is
you gazed up
at the evening spread
of dark blue
and stars
and moon
to one side
and you put
your hand
around her waist
and drew her close
and she lay
against you
and you said
I read some place
that some
of those distant stars
burned out
centuries ago
and what we see
is the ghostly glow
of dead stars
and she turned your head
towards her
and kissed you
and the pressing
of her lips on yours
and her hands
on your waist
and her 13 year old
breasts pushing
against your
14 year old chest
and the sound
of the choir starting up
in practice in the church
and the flight of bats
across
the evening sky
and she holding you near
and the lips engaged
and the eyes closed
and the breathing
taken in
coming up for air
and behind you
the aging graves
the tombstones
with moss
and half lit
by moonlight
and star's glow
and you held her
in place face to face
with your hands
upon the cheeks
of her behind
eyes still closed
in the land
of the love sucked
blind.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Shadow of Elspeth Brown
The sky was grey on that fateful day,
The sun was going down,
I made my way through a field of hay
To the cottage of Elspeth Brown.
She lived alone by the forest there
And studied her ancient tomes,
Her Grimoires, Necronomicons,
And her hearth was filled with bones!
I'd loved the girl for a year or two
And I'd made my interest known,
She was torn, she said, by the spells in her head,
She needed to be alone.
I knew she was seeing another guy
He called when I wasn't around,
‘He's more like the shade of a ghost, ' she said,
‘I raised him, out of the ground! '
She looked distraught as she waved me in,
Her hair was a tangled mess,
A book that featured some ugly Djin
Lay open across her dress.
I've never been one for the ancient arts
Of Magick, or spells and glooms,
But Elspeth wanted to play her part,
Cast spells in the afternoons!
I saw a copy of Crowley there,
A copy of Dragon Noir,
The Grimoire of Honorius
Was scattered across a chair!
‘What horrible Djin have you raised up
From the terrible realm of hell? '
I laughed, but Elspeth began to frown
And conjured another spell!
‘Three bat-wings and a gouty toad
And a strand of a maiden's hair,
A philtre of deadly nightshade stirred
With the leg of a wooden chair!
A third of a pint of hemlock, gathered
Close to the midnight hour…'
The sun was gone and the bright moon shone
Through the door of my lady's bower!
I thought to say it was nonsense,
Raised my eyes and stared in the gloom,
And there was her patient shadow cast
On the whitewashed wall of the room,
A shadow hand ran up through the hair
So tangled, under her cap,
I looked again at my erstwhile friend,
Her hands were down in her lap!
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck
Rise up, and a breathless chill,
The shadow had suddenly straightened up
My heart was standing still,
Two horns curled out of the shadow's head
Distinct on the further wall,
When Elspeth suddenly screamed, and said:
‘My skin's beginning to crawl! '
She spilled the book on the oaken floor,
Jumped up and looked at the wall,
The shadow that she had claimed for her own
Was suddenly eight feet tall,
It raised its hands in a threatening way
Against all physical laws,
I went to say, in a blank dismay:
‘Those fingers look like claws! '
We rushed together, out of the door,
Her screaming, me in fright,
The moon was rising, up in the sky,
You couldn't tell day from night,
The shadow followed, hard on our heels
And spread out over the ground,
I noticed it wasn't attached to her feet,
But followed with never a sound!
It moved around, ran by her side,
And then I saw it ahead,
She stopped in horror, whatever she'd done,
She'd summoned a Djin from the dead!
‘You'll have to set up an undo spell, '
I knew that she was to blame,
‘I can't, ' she muttered, ‘I don't know how,
He was here before you came! '
She wandered back to the cottage at last,
‘It's only a shadow, ' she said,
‘I shouldn't be worried, it won't hurt me! '
I turned on my heel, and fled!
I'm such a coward with magical things,
I ran full pelt all the way,
Then lay in dread, hid under my bed
‘Til the sun came up, next day!
I finally plucked the courage up
To return to the cottage there,
I stood in the yard, and called on out:
‘Elspeth - come out if you dare! '
A shadow stood in the hallway
And my heart, it turned to stone,
As I read the note on the lintel post,
‘I want to be left alone! '
The sun was high in the morning sky
As I looked on down at my feet,
There wasn't a sign of a shadow there,
My heart then skipped a beat,
For there on the inner whitewashed wall
And beyond the hallway Djin,
I could see two shadows, making love,
But I hadn't the nerve to go in!
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Suddenly
Orbison/melson
Suddenly, my heart stood still
Suddenly, the sight of you gave me a thrill
Suddenly
Suddenly, i see you everywhere
Suddenly, all at once i seem to care for you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, my world is new
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, suddenly you're my dream come true
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
So suddenly
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Silence Hanged Wordless Between Us
Next to a silver river, a clear stream
you were dreaming against a willow,
with a small smile, silent and satisfied
as if something great happened in the past
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
In your eyes light sparkled like stars,
a leave fell and glided away
when suddenly a plover called from the marsh
with others answering from far away
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
Where the water flows endlessly
you got quickly to your feet,
your glance went deep into my soul
and we could not evade our feelings,
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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