Two toddlers in the municipal park
(in answer to Elisabeth Eybers)
Naked next to each other
two black toddlers are left
with a wormed small maleness
and a exposed female groove
and with wiggling legs they walk on
to where the canal of a dilapidated stream meanders
and where at time ducks or swans may have been,
there now are only empty concrete furrows,
as if a dark power holds the park, the town, the country,
the whole continent in its gigantic claws
and everything is declining,
is being broken down into pieces on a gigantic rubbish pile
and they look at a blue headed lizard
that lies and baking in the sun
and stare inquisitive at a few rock-lizards
that crawl one after the other from their trenches,
like soldiers with coordinated movements
and when a snake appears suddenly,
they look at it in wonder
when it strikes at both the lizards
before it devours them
and she - the small girl- grabs tightly onto the boy's hand
to draw him still nearer to the vermin
that perceives them both and rocks hissing back
and looks at the two with deadly seriousness
and with desperate power the boy jerks her back,
away from the thing that he perceives as danger
before they both burst out in tears
and run back with wiggling legs
to the shadow of a tree
where mom and dad lies stretched out on a blanket
next to two empty brandy bottles
that gleams in the bright sunlight
and beyond the stonewall of the park
an expensive German car passes,
are followed by two pickup trucks
and a horde of minibus taxis
are parked next to the municipal park,
with music blaring deafening
and a group of teenagers climb out of one
and he wants to walk into that direction
as a member of the collective wildness
but she is caught by his strange small snake
that rocks to and fro with each step that he takes
and when the teenagers become aware of the children
it appears as if they have far too much interest in them
and maybe it's the last day of danger,
or maybe some captured childhood days
and they may be molested
somewhere next to the road,
be disfigured, cut up,
for witchdoctor medicinal use
and thrown out of a taxi-buss
or it may only be amusing
to see two stark naked children.
The snake returns well-fed
to the hole from where it comes,
and the two toddlers are astonished
by one of the teenagers
who hides beyond a mask.
[Reference: "Twee kleuters in die vondelpark" (Two children in the wander park) by Elisabeth Eybers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Kotze Park
While walking in the park
we followed a road
twisting past a old green battle tank,
a plaything for the kids,
parked near a row of dilapidated swings
and a missing seesaw
walked past a old windmill somewhat like castle
of which the water was missing
and when drawing close saw some rubble around it
and we walked up to the top of a small knoll
where a dam once was,
with furrows meandering down
in trenches like little rivulets
but now only a patch of empty concrete
was left there
and up in a tree a green snake
gazed down at you, down at me
where it was coiled around a branch
with little gleaming black eyes
watching intently,
but I did not say a thing just kept walking on.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Loving The Light Nights
The light summer nights are here at last;
The spirit of winter has finally passed.
Now, when I leave work, the sky is blue;
Until recently, it had a much darker hue.
On many a morning, there is a misty haze,
Then, during the day, the sun will blaze.
Now that the days are getting a little longer,
My soul, within, feels so much stronger.
When I walked home: when it was dark,
I never dared to walk through the park.
Now, there is nowhere for shadows to lurk,
As, in the daylight, I walk home from work.
Now, when a day's work has taken its toll,
Through the park, I feel happy to stroll.
In the light, the park is a pleasant place to be;
Enjoyed by everyone, up to a hundred and three.
Now, I often see other people in the park too,
And, no intimidating teens are within my view.
In winter, when it was dark, by late afternoon,
Teenagers got drunk, and litter was strewn.
I hated walking home, when the light had gone;
For it to be dark at 5pm, just seems so wrong.
It's lovely to be able to walk home in the light,
When, sometimes, the sun is still burning bright.
I love it when summertime officially starts;
I feel much happier: there's hope in my heart.
I would love long evenings for all of the year;
For the long summer nights, let's give a cheer!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Girl In Park
Girl in the Park
In the park I saw my dog Bambi, she was playing with
another dog that belonged to a girl who sat in the grass.
Bambi didn’t see me she had a glossy coat, and looked
beautiful, so I waited for her to see me and come over.
The girl was of no interest, looked as a black & white
photo taken with box camera 1950, I didn’t see her face.
She got up and walked into a café its door was open but
the entrance had a curtain of fake pearls that sounded as
of water in a stream, when moved. The park was empty
and there was no ducks in it dark pond. I walked into
the café, it was empty too; the owner was reading
a paper I asked if he had seen a girl with two dogs, he
said dogs were not allowed in his café, and continued to
read and for no reason at all I sat down and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 257
I’m a happy dog at the park
I yelp and woof and bark
Along with the sound
Us dogs run around
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
You may think me off the mark
But I’m not by mistake
In the mud by the lake
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I hunt like a big hairy shark
When the bunnies trail
Puts a spring in my tail
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m glad that some bright spark
Brought a ball to throw
Now off I go
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’ll be wagging well into the dark
Enjoy fresh air and fun
Is my tip everyone
I’m a happy dog at the park
poem by Flying Lemming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Dog 3
I’m a happy dog at the park
I yelp and woof and bark
Along with the sound
Us dogs run around
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
You may think me off the mark
But I’m not by mistake
In the mud by the lake
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I hunt like a big hairy shark
When the bunnies trail
Puts a spring in my tail
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m glad that some bright spark
Brought a ball to throw
Now off I go
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’ll be wagging well into the dark
Enjoy fresh air and fun
Is my tip everyone
I’m a happy dog at the park
poem by Flying Lemming
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Theatre Of The Absurd
(ian hunter)
My tea turned seven shades darker
As I sit n write these words
And londons gettin paler
In my theatre of the absurd.
You figured for an evening
And you made it all worthwile.
Its seldom people have a job
And even rarer that I smile.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
And if your songs be classics,
Throw them to the hurd.
Truth is where they came from
And not this theatre of the absurd.
Some say you wanted to play for me
But its only what youve heard
That made you want to capture me
In your theatre of the absurd.
It was not me, I said myself
And you must do so, too.
I hope you have the strength to stay
When Ill be watchin you.
So baby,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
Oh when I got here back home tonight
Something within me stirred.
Oh it must have been a different kind of play
That touched my theatre of the absurd.
Now Ill be on my way alone
But an interesting thing occurred
See nobody ever shared too much
In my theatre of the absurd.
And there I was back in london,
Thought about history.
It was just like being in school again
But I felt something movin in me.
Hearin just a bit of the future,
Oh its comin and its still blurred
And thats the only thing worth living for
In my theatre of the absurd.
Come on,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Oh play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
(beautiful)
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
(john, come on)
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Oh, play me some, (come on, eric) play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Oh, play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
...
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is the Mall
There is a mall in your town
Were people go just to walk around
Wandering here and wandering there
Spending their money without a care
The ways of old are not found here
Save for the seniors who sit and stare
It’s a meeting place for all to be
Mothers with their children running free
And teenagers giggling, as life goes by
Not thinking of tomorrow or the reasons why
Watching children hurry by
Looking for a new toy to catch their eye
Keys jingle and gangel
Thinking of the car parked out in the mangle.
Different shoes go click and clack
Following along on this concrete track
These are the faces that I see
Caught in this concrete sea
Were life rambles by at a steady crawl
In this place called the mall
NK
February 11th 2007
poem by Nick krakana
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In the Park
In the park
an old man and an old woman
sit away from each other
In the park
the old man and the old woman
look at each other
In the park
that old man and that old woman
sit together
In the park
they sing together
In the park
they hold hands
and walk back home together.........!
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
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The Joy Of Their Laughter
The children are playing football in the park off of the street
The joy in their laughter it does sound so sweet
'Tis true youth is such a marvellous thing
Like the flowers of the fields that bloom lovely in Spring.
The joy of their laughter bring back memories to me
Of happy boyhood days of any cares free
In the Town park on Summer evenings we kicked the football
Such wonderful memories are good to recall
The years went so quickly and time did not wait
And I've grown grayer and slower and I'm putting on weight
The future belongs to the youth of today
Though they too will grow to learn that time quickly ticks away.
Some of those I went to school with now with the dead lay
And some are grand parents and their grand children play
The games they themselves played they run up and down
In pursuit of the football in the park by the Town.
As I walk to the bottle shop for to buy beer
The laughter of the children playing football I hear
Their best days approaching and mine in the past
But time keeps on ticking and nothing does last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Walk In The Park
A walk in the park is a pleasure to do,
When a visit to one is long overdue,
To take the dogs too, is really great,
For the exercise is just first rate.
The peacefulness can be very strange,
For quietness is such a change
From all the traffic rushing by,
The decibels get really high.
We have to live with constant noise,
That often takes away the joys
And contentment, that a walk can give us.
We've got to count is as a real plus.
There's a lake where you can hire a boat,
And two or more can go afloat,
And meander, with the water calm,
With oars a dipping, what sheer balm.
At the end of the lake, the ducks you'll meet,
And geese and swans, with their webbed feet,
All gather hoping to be fed,
With slivers of cake and slices of bread.
There are tennis courts and a golf course too,
You can do most anything you want to do,
For children, roundabouts and swings,
Seesaws, slides, gosh, there's lots of things.
A small cafe where you can sit,
And enjoy a coffee and rest for a bit,
And watch the birds that gather round,
Robins and bluetits, ready to scrounge.
For any titbits that you might drop,
They're very brave, and will sit atop,
The railings right next to your chair,
As long as with them, your fare you share.
The flowers are a joy to view,
The colours bright with the morning dew,
Red, yellow, purple, pink and peach,
Lifting their heads the sun to reach.
A walk in the park takes away the strain,
Of working, which we have to go back to again,
But as long as we take just a little time out
To relax, that to me is what life's all about.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Muir Woods
Afternoon gray off the Golden Gate Bridge
Clears away now to a lingering blue
With expansive day soaked in bright sunlight;
Tourists ride through wealthy Marin County
As their guide recounts his own narrative
Of the way things used to be in the great
Long-distant past of San Francisco, gone -
"Everything was safe and clean in those days,
Children could walk the streets alone at night, "
He sighs, driving the big bus uphill
To a park submerged in Redwood shadow.
poem by William B. Deutscher
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Local Park
When you want a good walk
Through day or the dark,
The place to go is our local park,
The park is a pride
The finest ever seen,
Tree's and grass always ever green..
There's swings for the kids
For all girls and boys,
Sea saw and paddling pool
To fill in their joys.
There's a path walk way all the way round
If you want a good walk
And summer seats to sit if you want a good talk,
The park has a lake and plenty good sport,
Bowling on the green and tennis on the court.
There's plenty of fun
Plenty to do,
Even at the park
Good swimming pool there to,
The pool has a cafe
If you want to call in
A wee cup of tea or have a good swim.
There's cricket and football
A horse riding track,
And even a good golf course
It's way round the back.
So here is our park
That's full of good pride,
Were ducks swim the water
And kids play the slide
poem by Gerald Follis Lurgan
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I miss my little girl
I miss my little girl
who came into my world
so tiny and so small.
I still remember fondly
the very day you're born
and being so afraid
to hold you in my arms
scared to drop you down.
I miss you being little,
playing hide and seek.
I miss going to the park,
pushing your swing away,
or playing together in the sand.
I miss carrying you on my back,
running thru the house,
giggling and laughing away.
I miss so much those little big things...
But time flies fast...
You are a teenager now,
not little anymore,
not playing any games
with your old dad,
not going to the park,
and playing in the sand,
or swinging in the swing,
and no more hide and seek.
Now you are a little rebel
in your own little world,
with your teenagers friends,
socializing on Tik Tok
or talking on the phone away,
Dad still missing his little girl
remembering the fun old days
when you were little and innocent...
But no matter how old you will be,
or wherever you will go,
I will always stick by you.
You will never grow big enough
to outgrow your daddy’s heart!
There will always be someone,
who needs you and love you
and that someone is - Dad!
poem by Viorel Vintila
Submitted by Viorel Vintila
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Popular..
Many teenagers think
That being popular should be with the way you dress
The way you walk
The way you attract the boys
And the way you make the noise
Many teenagers think
That being popular is by the way you treat the others with full disrepute
Or by being very thin and cute
Many teenagers think
That being popular is all about the way you talk about the others
Or if you’re wearing a silky top or shoes made out of leather
Many teenagers think
That being popular is by despising the quiet ones and making fun of the weird
And also to show that they can never be scared or feared
Many teenagers think
That being popular is by showing of your new jeans and vest
And many teenagers think
That being popular is a way to prove that you are the finest and best.
poem by Marria Attar
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No Longer Can You Brake My Logical Reasoning
No longer can you brake
my logical reasoning through your sensitivity
the central part of me stays
and throws you out bit by bit.
You heart that could confuse,
that had chased me around, which had challenged me
and sometimes could provoke me
will in no strategy succeed any longer.
With your nurturing I have made myself orphan,
while your irrationality has brought all reason into confusion
but now you can read the writing on the wall
and I will cause no more anarchy that penetrates to others
I will rather live without standing the whole time on the abyss
and without fear than to be purposeless forever.
[After Elisabeth Eybers/Reference: Krisis (Crisis) by Elisabeth Eybers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Gigantic
And this I know
His teeth as white as snow
What a gas it was to see him
Walk her every day
Into a shady place
With her lips she said
She said
Hey paul, hey paul, hey paul, lets have a ball (3x)
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Lovely legs there are
What a big black mask
What a hunk of love
Walk her every day into a shady place
Hes like the dark, but Id want him
Hey paul, hey paul, hey paul, lets have a ball (3x)
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kissing In The Park
A magnetic circle of attraction supported by nature’s rapture
Damn, I’ve been captured
A soupcon of love in the dark
Now tranquilized by his touch
We begin kissing in the park
A brittle prey, his venom fills my veins
I invite his angelic restrains
I’ve become a predator’s mark
I’ve been taken, kissing in the park
To my surprise I found more than a star
Lured by this idyllic yard
Close to falling please don’t stop
Let’s continue kissing in the park
I am drawn to this lethal noxious snake
Its vibrant rattle and clandestine strength
Paralyzed I am ready to be its bait
I’ve been ambushed by its flare
How could I have missed this penetrating stare
From this silly search for truth or dare
I’ve been stunned, a piercing metal dart,
An everlasting sting received from kissing in the park
The perfect trap, it’s a wrap
I can’t resist this urge to be submerged
I feel heat; it ricochets off my predator’s fangs
It travels in pursuit of my pulse, this line he sang
A deadly dagger used to plan his feast
I’ve been poisoned to say least
All this for kissing in the park
I never thought to be smart
Who would have known to avoid it from the start
No longer in the dark a bright white light
It’s a pattern, no its art
With open eyes I embrace this fate,
The predator before me has backed away
Now watching my head tilt, on a shoulder it lays
I’ve been felt in a haze
My venomous snake has disappeared among the clouds
The ruffling of tree leaves the only sound
I was surrounded by a sweet embrace with a heavenly human face
It was not death I faced, the lost of life to a snake
It was the taste of passion the bite that nourished life
Alive I embarked on love
In this idyllic yard by kissing in the park
poem by Denise Veras
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Paisley Park (remix)
1 2, 1 2 3
Woo!
There is a park that is known 4 the face it attracts
Colorful people whose hair on one side is swept back
The smile on their faces, it speaks of profound inner peace
Ask where they're going, they'll tell U "Nowhere"
They've taken a lifetime lease on Paisley Park
CHORUS:
The girl on the seesaw is laughing
4 love is the color this place imparts (Paisley Park)
Admission is easy, just say U believe
Then come 2 this place in your heart
Paisley Park is in your heart
There is a woman who sits all alone by the pier
Her husband was naughty and caused his wife so many tears
He died without knowing forgiveness and now she is sad, so sad
Maybe she'll come 2 the park and forgive him
And life won't be so bad in Paisley Park
CHORUS
See the man cry as the city condemns where he lives
Memories die but taxes he'll still have 2 give
(Who?) Whoever said that elephants were stronger than mules?
Come 2 the Park and play with us
There aren't any rules in Paisley Park
CHORUS {x2}
(Paisley Park is in, yeah, your heart)
Your heart (Your heart)
Paisley Park
Your heart {x3}
(Say it is in your heart)
Paisley Park {x3
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the zoo
There are street hawkers
selling their wares
next to a wall build
of rocks and stone
on all sides of the entrance.
Carved wooden walking sticks
african faces in black wood,
grass brooms, pottery,
hats and t-shirts
and African drums
and paintings line the sidewalk.
Light pink flamingos
parade next to their dark brown pool
and walk among long palm trees
while they call to each other.
Some white swans
drift on a lake in the park
and catch something to eat
with dipping heads
from the dark water.
a Couple of elephant throw
red-brown sand
over themselves
and their pleated skin
looks like rough sandpaper
and at the back
there’s an old white farmstead
with a green roof
and some hay
for them to eat.
Some spotted Hyenas
swim in a stream
and their dark brown
dots stand out
against their light coats.
There’s some long walkways
going through gardens
that stretch into the distance..
Just the head and back
of a lonely Hippopotamus
rises from a dark brown pool
and it drifts with its nose
under the water
in the direction
of some other Hippopotamuses.
Some bridges run
over the small stream
of the Apies river
which splash over rocks.
a Blue crane
combs its blue-grey coat
next to a striped Kudu cow
that grazes on the green grass
with the Kudu bull watching
the visitors.
a Big brown bear
walks up a rock slope
and splashes in cold pool.
Some Impalas are gathering
on a rocky slope
and a narrow path
stretches up the wooded hill.
A Tiger lies sleeping
under a tree
and two black-backed jackals
stand grinning next to each other.
There are yellow-gold lions
that hides in the long green grass
and a slim female
with two cubs
steps out and watches
and the big male
comes out with a twisting tail
and roars menacing at the crowd
while one of the keepers
are giving them meat.
There’s a great view of the buildings
of Pretoria from the top
of the hill
and some high rises
and towers jump up
into the sky.
I take a cable car
for the long way down
and see the Union buildings
far in the distance
and miniature animals
flash by on the bottom.
A Leopard growls
when I leave the cable car
and I hear the calls
of some black Chacma Baboons.
Some African Buffalo
stand grazing like cattle
and a Rhino
lies stretched out
on the grass.
Some of the gamekeepers
are feeding a giraffe
and it stretches its neck
over a high wall
and time catches me
and something of the animals
stays with me
when I walk back to the car.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eastern Transvaal
Against the edge of the kopje a homestead is standing
with a pretty garden in contrast to the red-brown dust,
a place of rest grounded on the expertise of the farmer,
displaying his handiwork.
When thunder falls above on the top of the hillock
he sits at ease with a pipe in his mouth,
at his feet his darling pedigree dog lies
and they smell the fragrance of the rain that is showering down
while the eyes of the farmer wanders over the hillock
where aloes, sugar bushes and wild plums grow in abundance
next to the dense cornfield that stretches green into the distance,
the blessings from God showers down everywhere
and everything that farmer owns multiplies
as if the hand of God covers his life mightily.
[After Elisabeth Eybers/Reference: Wes-Transvaal (Western Transvaal) by Elisabeth Eybers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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