Tinkerbell is back
Slowly a small white dog
steals up on our yard in the street
with big black outstanding eyes
and she watches scared,
at every thing that she sees
as far as she walks.
There’s something familiar to her
and the small pink tongue
that hangs out of her mouth
where she stands dehydrated
against the green palisades,
the emaciated small body
on which the spinal cord
and ribs protrude
and the small tail
that wraps into the stomach
tells their own tale
of neglection
and lovelessness
and of people
that has lost all humanity.
My heart rejoices because Tinkie is back
and Tinkerbell has escaped from somewhere
and I know that there’s a Lord
that answers prayers,
but if I get hold
of the people
that had stolen her
I will loose more than just my head
and it feels as if I can kill them
with my bare hands.
Somewhere nearby
there’s a lady that sells cosmetics
and my neighbour says
that her child wanted Tinkie
and ten devils,
turn inside my heart
and the Lord
just has to keep me in check.
The front teeth are missing from kicks
and to see the tongue hanging out grudges me
and the vet is wonderful like always
and says that she will be all right with time
and treats her for everything and more
and after more than eight months,
Tinkie is disarranged
and the other dogs
wants to smell her
and my darling and I are happy
because one of our children
is back and there’s again
light and life in her eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Growing Up With Shiva
Growing up with shiva
Is not as easy as it seems
Its getting harder to sleep at night,
And I dont always like my dreams
Everybodys living down here
I dont hate,
But I dertainly fear
White is white,
Black is black
Everybodys know we arent going back
As time goes by,
It gets more clear
Nobodys going to leave from here
Lets all life in festive desperation
Were all flushed with annihilation
Give me a yard
And Ill take a mile
Because chaos never goes out of style
You can trust him
Hes no fair weather friend
Hell stay with you
Until the bitter end
Were all familiar with life at versailles
And I get the feeling times passing us by
Were realized our true intention
Were relaxing in the tension
Lets dance our dance
And sing our song,
And hope to God that we are wrong
Scared of being bored
And bored with being scared
I wonder if anyone really cared?
song performed by by Information Society
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Moment
She walks through the rain, the pain locked behind her cold eyes
She sees the lights of the houses, those Christmas lights,
She sees her home, no lights, no tree, it is dark and still
The rain falls on her long white hair, her white gown flowing tears stream from her eyes
They are silver and full of sorrow and pain they splash against the wet street
And shine like silver perils against the black cold surface.
A car passes and for a moment she thinks the driver saw her, in her gown
For a moment she thought she was alive
Just for a moment
She sees the road stretch before her, she sees the lights that line each house
It is Christmas eave her mother and father are at church for their first Christmas sermon without her there, her eyes fill with more tears and more perils fall to the road
A bird flew above her, a dove
Her mothers favorite bird is a dove, she always says look to the dove for answers
The girl never understood her mothers words, now she knows
For a moment she smiles
For a moment she feels no pain
Just for a moment
She lifted her hands to the Dove
“Take me with you” she pleads into the sky, into the falling rain
The dove fly’s around her and grasps a small twig in his beak
The twig falls into her outstretched arms and she grasps it
She looks at her palm of her hand and sees the holly
The berries shine red, she knows what it means.
For a moment she sees the light stream from the Dove
For a moment she knew to follow
Just for a moment
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daybreak
Becoming wide awake at the first light
he lies motionless, watches her
in her tranquil sleep,
where she is right there,
but somewhere away from him.
He is far too scared to move,
scared to wake her up
before the set time
and then suddenly her eyes open,
she watches him,
draws him close to the heat of her body.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn is Coming
The Summer is slowly passing, and the green is dying,
The garden of flowers loses its color,
The white storks, slowly, slowly are being lost in the heights,
Tomorrow's world will be much duller.
The scent of the flower perishes in steam at dusk,
It smells like a dried, baked rusk.
In grandparent's yard, under the beam, a deserted nest,
already misses the cheerful swallow.
Up, on the house's chimney, one stork, almost lost,
looks around melancholy for the last time.
From the mountain's sheepfold to the village,
the longing shepherds descend with their sheep.
Caterpillars wreak havoc on the orchard,
Orderly, the good soldiers set out on their crusade.
A small leaf cries, scared of falling
under the strength of the wind.
The old trees are more and more troubled,
Yesterday they were full of life. Today they are rusty and tired.
The evening is coming earlier, and the sun is getting sadder,
A cricket "guitarist" is grieving.
The rain is getting colder, and the clouds are getting grayer,
The vast plains are dry, burned, withered.
From the hill, The Autumn slowly walks down towards the valley,
It's on the way, for sure. There's no other way!
poem by Marius Alexandru (September 2021)
Submitted by anonym
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A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Long Black Veil
Ten years ago on a cold dark night
Someone was killed beneath the townhall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran looked a lot like me
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me
The judge said son, what is your aliby?
If you were somewhere else, then you wont have to die.
I said not a word, though it meant my life,
For Id been in the arms of my best friends wife.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil.
She visits my grave when the night winds wail.
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Oh, now the scaffold is high, eternity is near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
And sometimes at night when the cold winds blow
In a long black veil she cries over my bones.
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Nobody knows. nobody knows, but me.
Nobody knows but me.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black And White
I took my baby
On a saturday bang
Boy is that girl with you
Yes we're one and the same
Now I believe in miracles
And a miracle
Has happened tonight
But, if
You're thinkin'
About my baby
It don't matter if you're Black or white
They print my message
In the saturday sun
I had to tell them
I ain't second to none
And I told about equality
An it's true
Either you're wrong
Or you're right
But, if
You're thinkin'
About my baby
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
I am tired of this devil
I am tired of this stuff
I am tired of this business
Sew when the
Going gets rough
I ain't scared of
Your brother
I ain't scared of no sheets
I ain't scared of nobody
Girl when the
Goin' gets mean
(L.T.B)
Protection
For gangs, clubs,
And nations
Causing grief in
Human relations
It's a turf war
On a global scale
I'd rather hear both sides
Of the tale
See, it's not about races
Just places
Faces
Where your blood
Comes from
Is where your space is
I've seen the bright
Get duller
I'm not going to spend
My life being a color
Don't tell me you agree
With me
When I saw you
Kicking dirt in my eye
But, if
You're thinkin'
About my baby
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
I said if
You're thinkin' of
Being my baby
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
I said if
You're thinkin' of
Being my brother
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
It's black, it's white
It's tough for you to get by
It's black , it's white, whoo
It's black, it's white
It's tough for you to get by
It's black , it's white, whoo
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flippie comes and lies with me
Flippie comes and lies with me
and she wants to know,
why you are staying away
for so long
and her dog eyes
watches me.
Kyla swings her big tail
and is very glad to see me,
but goes away to wait for you
for she hopes
to see you before the night.
Jeanie lays at the gate
and watches the street into the dark,
to see if you come
and she moans
when I call her to come in.
Slowly the day’s pass
while we wait on you
and I wonder if they
are treating you well
and the tea is nice,
but I drink it alone
and I know well
that our time on this earth
is just borrowed.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man Walks Slowly/ When He Has Nowhere Special To Go
A man walks slowly
When he has nowhere special to go-
A man walks slowly
And has the time to look around
The flowers, the trees,
His own memories his dreams-
He walks slowly
And enjoys his walking-
Who knows how much longer
He will be able to go on walking?
He walks slowsly
He has nowhere special to go-
He enjoys the morning light
He is at home with the world and happy-
He walks slowly
And is at home wherever he goes-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The black man steals just half of very little, but the white man steals the whole sugar plantation.
While He see the two playing there
How much I miss
Kyla and Tinkie today
that now plays at another place
and I see the big black dog
and the very small white one
with her big eyes
that run together
in immortal fields
and the small one hops up and down
in the long green grass
while she tries to keep up
and make barking noises
and it’s Kyla that herds off Tinkie
like a mother looking after a small one.
At a stream
with clear transparent water
small Tinkie waits patiently
with her pink tongue
hanging out of her mouth
while Kyla swims like a otter
up and down
and barks her greetings
to a African red knobbed coot
who drifts with babies
on the water
and in the shade
of a big old willow tree
is the Creator of all things
and there’s a smile
that goes from His mouth
past His eyes
while He watches
the two playing there.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Storming Of Soreiya
She's is so beautiful, when she smile
seems like whole world has stopped in her eyes.
She wore a white gown, so pure.
She was scared, but still smiling over the cruel people
she was not scared of her death, but for her loved ones,
who never cares....! ! ! !
it was her first step towards her death,
but she seems like a weeding bride
how could be world so cruel? ? ? ?
i just cant understand...! ! ! !
now she is stiffen, under the sand
place where had find her way.....
now she is choked
and coldness is slowly stirring all over her body, about to touch her heart, to bring her slowly into a deep painful sleep
she was storming by the people of her
but again she smiled over her children and said'baby do remember me'
and slowly the white gown turned into deep pure red blood of a innocent Soreiya
...............
poem by Lyangmit Vungmoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Have That Third Eye? ....
perhaps i have a third eye.
perhaps, because i cannot see this eye
perhaps, because this eye sees for me and it sees my
two other eyes, it swears,
perhaps, i must be gifted having this third eye,
seeing what happens next, and giving me the
details, and literally, giving me the shivers,
someone dies in an accident, someone's
decapitating someone,
another one hangs himself, the other one weeps
someone jumps ship and leaves no note on the
board,
on the other side of the view, at the left portion of
this eyesight, someone delivers a baby and
sleeps, someone watches and cries, tears of joy,
i must know, someone dives in the pool at noon,
and refreshes oneself, looking at the trees beside,
sometimes, time stands still, and the white butterfly
freezes,
for one thing, this third eye does not have a mouth
and does not warn me if i get crazy over nothing.
yes, i fall, and sometimes, i do not rise, i wallow in mud
and sometimes, i just lay hopeless in there, as they see it
i am the most lousy buffalo in town, and the third eye
sees this, but it has no comment, neither does it smile or
frown.
the muted truth, that is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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While I get a few coins from my pocket
Yesterday there were young black men
standing in underpants
at the Apies river
and they were busy
washing their clothes
in the dark brown water
In one of the remote corners
of Sunnyside
a big cardboard box stands
at a shop’s entrance
on the sidewalk
and I see an old white man and woman
crawling out of it one winter morning
and they have got a half white bread
that they share with a white and black fox terrier.
At shoprite in Voortrekker street
a young black man
tries to sell fake perfume
and wants to know nothing
about removing his head
from the car’s window.
I place his goods
next to my car’s door
and tell my darling
to close her window
while he walks round the car
to get him out of the car.
At a pick-a-pay
there’s a small white woman
that’s a car guard
and always helps politely
to get the bags into the boot.
Then I realised
that if you just look around
there are countless people,
that life bites into pieces
and I wonder where
everything in this country is going?
While I get a few coins from my pocket
out of my pocket,
I feel guilty
to live like a king
and to see
others struggle around me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black and White
My world is black and white,
The colors I see is black and white,
Hold me tight,
Don’t let me go,
See the tears I have cried,
Listen to my cry,
Look into my eyes,
My world is black and white,
Cut my wrist,
Black my eyes,
Blacken these thoughts I think of,
Black and white is all I can see,
The tears is all I can feel,
Feel me fading away,
Watching myself falling apart,
Look deep into my eyes,
Can you see me,
Can you feel the pain I feel,
I don’t understand why I am feeling this sad,
All the moments that once we shared has faded away like others have,
I never did tried to see the beyond the black and white clouds,
I need to face what I have become,
I need to find my way back,
The black and white is all I can see and feel,
My world has been black and white.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Right between my underpants
Just before opening the draw
big green eyes with black pupils
peep at me.
Right between my underpants
Felix has made his nest
and yawns with an open mouth
so that his white teeth shows.
When I get a pair of underpants out
the black and white cat
watches me amused,
as if now
he knows some of my secrets.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I my steps
As I my steps
Along the grated streets
Of sweet Valletta I retraced
I passed from street to street
And I me thought that I could find
The dwelling where you lived.
For me those streets familiar quite
Became as dearer and dearer
As I from city street to street
My steps retraced their bearer
Aye! Aye! The streets became as dearer
And beautiful more than I had seen
For years and years before:
The pregnant windows frowning black
Unmoving ghosts in city pent
I wandered quite what did they hide
Behind their closed doors:
The small quaint front doors in the street
A few light inches the cobble stones above
With memories faint and dim
And with fast-fretting hither and thither
The hazy residents of those small abodes
Hid from my anxious questioning sight.
And as I passed along the street
A chimney high I saw smiling with glee
As it played child-like with white passing clouds
Above the warm sun shone on the old stones
That dreamt and dreamt and dreamt of years untold.
Aye! Aye! The city old
Above the harbor glideth
In my warm dreams:
The sailing clouds
Above the trees
In the small garden passing:
The green leaves
In their high towers
With each to each
In their wild love-making
To each and each are rustling:
The citizens in city streets
With hurried steps are passing.
And whither do they pass
And thither do they go?
The silent steps
In the small sullen street
I start descending
As if some thief to catch
That in some city nook
From me is hiding:
A lazy cat
Watches with half-open’d eye:
Little beyond
The stench of its urine
Drown’d by the sweet sense
Of roses pent in mortar cask
And hanging from the city wall.
Yes! Time is passing
In this sweet silent city of my dreams:
Let me allow it pass
Into the ocean sea-blue
That in midst of it
Like as in lover’s arms
My senses and myself will sink.
And I will not speak
And I will not sing
If not my lyre speaks
If not my lyre sings.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Union
The bride walks down
the lonely aisle.
But in the distance
she sees his smile.
Slowly she approaches
and knows full well
that in that smile
is where she'll dwell.
The groom stands proudly,
his eyes aglow.
And in the distance
with steps so slow
he sees the one
whose heart is his
to have and to hold.
And in the union
there lies the gold.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Vision
He sees his future
In the eyes of the girl.
The deep brown eyes
That smile at him.
He dreams of the day
When those eyes
Will look only at him,
And she will be his.
He watches her laugh.
He only wishes that
She would laugh with him,
Only see him.
He is the kind of guy
That only dreams,
Does not approach her,
But wishes that he could
His heart pounds in his chest
As she walks to him.
He looks away,
Maybe she won't notice him.
She greets him,
And he blushes fire
As she laughs the only
Laugh that matters.
poem by Zoe Guillory
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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