|
PoetrySchool was meant to have instilled in us an appreciation of poetry. Unfortunately the system demanded a clinical analysis of beautiful poetry that destroyed all its beauty. Dissected upon the cold slab of the educational mortuary, stripped of all its delicate skin and rosy flesh, all that remained was the bloody sinews and gleaming bone of literary devices that held no practical meaning to this student. And yet, somehow I always knew that there was something to poetry that was deeply attractive. Something to which I would return one day. And I did. Poetry is the language of God. After all, He wrote much of the Bible in poetry. Brutal and base must be the soul who stands unmoved before the subtle chords of the purest verse. Some of my own creations:
Donkiekar Drywer Glentana 2011-09-10 Donkiekar drywer jou windverwaaide siel Langsaam en mankoliek draai die stof agter jou wiel Jou gelaat is soos die aarde, met �n stomp klip uitgekrap Jou hande dof en uitgedroog, soos die grond waarop jy trap Oor die horison loop jou dubbel-spore, slinger-slenter dronk Die vlaktes is jou vryheid, maar hartseer is jou tronk Van die re�n waarvoor jou landskap wag, het net trane van gekom Gebroke hart en moedverloor vertel geknotte kneukels stom Hoeveel myle is daar tussen jou en die plek waarna jy heengaan? �Maak nie saak nie Baas, as ek so sing is ek amper nie eers eensaam My liedjie is maar valserig, die woorde half-vergeet Maar sluimer-sluimer dommel ek � ek�s daar nog voor jy weet� Sy donkies steier stowwerig, vaal en motgevrete Die ore hang maar mankoliek � dis vervelig om te lewe Sy karretjie van planke op �n ou Ford onderstel Hobbel lusteloos maar dit is wel �n dubbel-donkiekrag model Lieplapper rondloper, leegl�-swendelaar Jy�s ryk my Ta jy weet dit nie, maar dis �n feit voorwaar My motor, huis en blink-pak klere, �n volstruis geteer in eie vere Jy is ryk en ek is arm maar beide van ons lewe Kom vat my hand, so slinger ons, verflenterd en verwaai Met �n bottel in �n bruin kardoes, stuur ons die w�reld in sy maai Son en wind en wilde diere, wie gee werklik om? Nou loop ons spore ewe skeef vir my en jou ou jong
Photo: The Mosselbay/Geore railway line, above where I used to live.
Fantasy Train Herman Labuschagne, Glentana 2011-11-16 Come on a magic journey with me Ride with me before the day dies I�m the train that can�t be seen Let me take you to yonder skies There�s no dream too hard to reach There�s no hope that is too far I can make what you imagine Glow in heaven like a burning star Hear me whistle � feel the warm wind Spread your arms and let us fly There�s no sense for you to wonder How my tracks cross burning sky I�m your chariot, you�re my thunder Light the heavens, cleave the night Steer me upward, split asunder I�ll bear you swiftly with all my might
Photo: Prehistoric "fish kraals" at Stillbay on a full moon night.
Full Moon Upon the Waters Glentana 2010-10-03 There is a full moon Upon the waters Where the waves weep on the sand And my mind is with an old friend Far from this land And between us lies and ocean With its waters dark and wide Filled with differences and disagreements Framed by pale moonlight But it�s a festival moon It�s the harvest moon It is the best moon of the year And as I gaze across the waters I can�t help to wish that you were here Moon, lovely moon Full moon upon the waters As you gaze across the oceans Won�t you look out for you daughter?
In Kliprivier se Water Glentana, 2011-11-28 �Wag nog �n bietjie ou maat Bly nog �n bietjie hier Kyk ons is almal vriende Soos die skuim op jou bier� �Laat my liewer gaan Kyk hoe laag sit die maan Lettie is eensaam By die huis vanaand� �Skink nog �n doppie k�rels Netnou ly hy dors So maak ware vriende Ja, so maak vriende mos� �Dankie broers maar r�rig Dit word nou al laat Die kinders wonder seker al Wanneer kom ek aan� �Ag nee ou vriend, so maak mens nie! Kom net nog �n een Dit is lekker koud vanaand En netnou kom dit re�n� �Nou toe dan net �n kleintjie So-so dis genoeg Ek moet se dit is wrintiewaar �n seldsame winterjaar� �Kom nou jy gaan my nie se Jy gaan so vroeg loop Net nog dan �n laaste een Ek het jou dop reeds klaar gekoop� Laatnag strompel huis-toe Die donker-slank figuur En voel-voel waar sy sleutels hang Langs die motor kar se stuur �Hoe krom loop die twee spore nou?� Dink hy nog met �n sug �Ek wanneer kom die Kliprivier Se enkelspoortjie brug?� �Nou waarvoor kom daai motor dan Lynreg op my af? Hy sien my mos of dink hy dalk Hy is is lekker laf?� Hy dog toe dit is veiliger En draai maar liewers uit En daarmee beland sy motorkar In die Kliprivier se spruit Op Maanhaarrand sit Lettie maar Die ligte een-een-af En kyk nog eers vir sy motor uit Op die ou tweespoortjie pad �Hy werk so laat, my stomme man Ons is op hom so trots Ek wens net dat hy meer Tyd spandeer met ons�� In Klipriver se water Verflou twee ligte geel �n Vader wat sy kindertjies Nooit ooit weer sal streel
Photo: 'n Glass ship that was a gift from a friend across the waters.
She Sails the Seas Glentana 2010-06-18 I watched your ship Sailing out across the bay I watched your sails As you vanished clear away Where the ocean meets the sky You left my wond�ring why Two ships can be sailing In two opposite ways? She sails the seas In a ship made of glass As I watch and pray That the Face Behind the Stars Will keep a lighthouse always burning For us to find our way And to guide us home safely To that glorious bay So sail away O�er the ocean so dark But see how the waters Reflect a million stars And see how the moon above � The fingernail of God Is pointing us homeward No matter how far we�re apart So ship of glass, Called Nightstar go your way Wherever you are May the stars light up your way And if our ships should meet again I�ll salute you as a friend And you�ll see me there standing With my hand upon my breast Then sail along, Oh ship made of glass Sail safely on your way As you listen to my song
Photo: The old graveyard in Swellendam.
Silent Friends 2011-07-11, Glentana Pour out your scales Throw more fuel on the fire Spill all your tears on the ground Your laughter is hollow And silent the sound Of the dead who lie under the ground There they rest easy And there they rest long Peaceful with never a care Just resting in slumber They pay no attention To whether or not you are there There sleeps a fallen young hero There lies a mother with child There rests a milkman, A farmer, a general Friends till the ending of time Oh, oh how low Nothing do they know When the winds that blow over the ice caps of time Blow out the candle�s small flame Oh, oh how low Long must we wait Till the sunrise comes and warms up our eyes And restores the sweet breath to your lives
Foto: Die brons ossewaens by Bloedrivier.
Bloedrivier, Skarlakenrooi Glentana, 2011-12-16 Skarlakenrooi en droewig diep Loop stil jou donker water Waar bloed van duisend dapper helde Rimpel oor die blou-groen aarde Oral langs die groot rivier Vervloei die Zoeloe ryk se droom Die vrugwater van gebroke nasie Afgeskep soos melk se room Roerlings in die digte riete Wit o� van gewonde kryger Huiwer net en verwdyn vir ewig Voor die roer van nog �n ruiter En hoor jy dan die magtig� dreuning Wat uitstyg bo die krygsrumoer? Is daar vir die kinders van die hemel Na slagting dalk nog lewe oor? Verweg in die wester-hemel Verrys die wolke toring-hoog Die tweede ruiter met sy vlammend� vaandel Span vir laas sy yster boog Oor die slagveld daal daar nou �n stilte Sagkens soos gebreekte koors Van die trotse regimente is daar nou net Uitgedroogte beend�re oor Waar Bloedrivier se water murmel Daar loop die water nou weer helder In die blou-groen gras is geen teken meer Van uitgestorwe helde Die waens het lankal reeds verrot Die ruiters het soos mis verdwyn En min is daar wat hul vandag Herinner aan hul vaders� pyn Daardie dag se barendsnood Was swaar en vol van diepe angs En die kind wat daar gebore was Het het jonk gesterwe in die nag Bloedrivier, o Bloedrivier Jou vrugwater loop nou helder Net saans waai nog �n siddering Oor die blou-groen van jou velde
Photo: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Spitfire_VII_Langley_USA.jpg
Warplane Glentana, 2010-2011-12-27 It was midnight when they sent for me To inform me �bout my misery That a German bomber dropped its load On my house and I was now alone So I got into my war-plane And I wowed I would not return again Then I flew into the rising sun To repay the Germans what they had done When they came out of the morning sky I just knew I�d watch them fall and die There were five and I was certain That my deadly hands would break them I met the first one, guns a blazing I watched him peel apart, then fading To take the second one was easy Hit him when he couldn�t see me Then the third one tried to turn and run He was torn apart while I dove on I banked hard and faced the fourth one I was hit before I send him down Then I watched to see the last one Slowly turn to face me head-on So I slowly watched him coming Welcoming what he was bringing From a distance I could see that he Was a young man almost just like me Thought I had him in my gun sights Strange I felt that it wasn�t right So I held fire for the last moment Even knowing that I�d be broken In the fire of his machine gun I saluted and flew straight on Oh I�m coming home today Oh I�m coming home today
Photo: a fallen forest giant at Woodville near Hoekwil in the Western Cape.
Death of the Glentana 2010-10-17 I watched with fascination as the axe it was swung into the forest-king�s side cutting through his old hide but there was no blood and there was no sigh just the blows of the woodsman as the forest king died And no-one had pity yes and nobody cried just the leaves that were falling and the wood chips that flied and the blows they made music like the drum beat of a dirge as the steel sliced through centuries that numbered time on earth When the forest king died it went down with a cry with a groan from its timbers it bowed below the sky where the forest king lied blinding light it shone through where mushrooms and ferns once beside the forest king grew But the green forest lawn did slowly turn red for below the king�s body the woodsman lay dead for he did not see when the old one came down that his foot was being held by the forest�s green lawn So they buried him there in a box made of wood from the ribs of the old king on the place where he stood and the forest lived on and it slowly forgot the name of the woodsman as the timbers did rot In the forest of dreams where a mighty king stood a new prince is growing every century a foot and one day it may be that the hole in the sky will be filled by a new king where the woodsman now lies
Foto: 'n Rooi papawer uit die tuin van Ina Scholtz.
Die re�nboog van Vlaandere Glentana, 8 Junie 2008. In Vlaandere l� 'n Boerseun in die nag Wagtend op die branding van die dag Hy voel sy lewe kwyn terwyl Europa om hom bloei En wonder waarmee hy hom hier bemoei� Daar v�r verby artillerie gedruis Verwyder van waar die ligfakkels verreis Sien hy in geestesoog weer in En draai sy o� vir 'n oomblik weer omhoog: �O land, my land, ek kom na jou miskien�� �Hy yl,� se 'n strydbroer, �gee hom nog morfien�� ��ek kom na jou miskien, sal ek jou velde weer Ek het my land in stryd getrou gedien�� �O hou my hand, dan vertel ek jou nog eens, Hoe blom die velde na die lentere�ns�� �My vriend, jy sal die pyn minder voel as ek jou spuit Hou vas, ons dra jou weldra hiervan uit�� In Vlaandere sterf 'n Boerseun in die nag Sy laaste asem neem die oggend sag �Kyk,� merk 'n kameraad, �hy het 'n glimlag nagelaat� �En waarlik, daar is rus op sy gelaat�� In Vlaandere staan papawers diep en rooi In Vlaandere l� die velde ryk en mooi In Vlaandere hang 'n re�nboog oor 'n eensame graf En tel die jare stelselmatig af�
Foto: My ouma se hande - die tweede laaste keer wat ek haar gesien het.
Laat My Nooit Alleen 8 Maart 2009, Glentana Gedagtig aan die feit dat my ouma alleen moes sterwe sonder haar vriende of family teenwoordig. Tog het sy die geselskap gehad van haar kamermaat, Tannie Hartjie. Haar metgesel voor haar laaste reis. Laat my nooit alleen Sal jy my beween? As w�reldwysheid kwyn En elke vriend verdwyn? Laat jou stem tog hoor Voor ek rigting verloor Raak my nog eens aan Troos daarmee my traan Ja, nog voor ek groet Gee my nog wat moed Kyk, die lig word vaal Sien, die skadu�s daal Ek moet groet vir laas Waarom tog die haas? Jare is so snel Op die uurglas afgetel
Foto: My glas wyn, laat een aand in die donker.
�n Rusplek vir die winter Die winter vind �n rusplek In die poel van my gemoed Die kaggelvuur se vlamme In my wyn, so rooi soos bloed En iewers in die duister In die winde wat daar huil Hoor ek jou saggies fluister Het ek jou vir d�t verruil? En die storm wat daar buite loei Weerklink in my gemoed En die spyt bruis deur my are Soos morfien gespuit in bloed En dit dood my sinne stadig Dit verdraai my heel verstand Dit benewel en bedwelm Tot ek dink ek is bestand Maar iewers in die duister In die winde wat daar huil In die geroep van �n naguil Uit my hart se diepe kuil Is dit asof ek jou stem hoor Of jou naam my lippe roer Of jou beeld hom skelm en saggies In my verstand verskuil En wonder ek of jy nog Van my bestaan Of dalk soos ek ook eenmaal Van my kon vergeet Ja mens weet nooit wat jy het nie Tot jy dit dan eens verloor Dis eers later dat mens wonder Wat het jy daarvan oor? En die spyt wat steeds te laat kom Is die mens se ruwe lot Ons gedrag so heel verspot
Photo: An image from the treches after the battles of the Tugela Heights in 1899.
Now that the Battle is Over Glentana, 20 July 2009 Now that the battle is over Now that the damage is done Now that we�re both bent and broken Now that we see what we�ve done Now that we pause and we look behind To our amazement we find After all has been said and done That nobody won! That nobody won! That nobody won� After all that has been said and done � that nobody won�
Foto: Jan van Reebeeck. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Jan_van_Riebeeck.jpg
Van Riebeeck van die Suiderland 2 April 2006, Eer die Suid-Oos wind weer kom kennis maak trek Tafelberg weer wit En die langhaar-man by die venster staan met �n frons-gesig en bid En die seemeeu draai oor die suiderson en dartel deur die lug Maar hy steur hom nie aan die kommandeur se moedverlate sug. �O Maria, O Maria! Hierdie land is vir my te wild; En saans Waar die volle maan mosa�ek uitslaan deur Javanese-vensterraam Sit die langhaar-man met jenewer Hy skryf �n brief aan sy lieflingsvrou met �n hand wat saggies beef En die woorde rol om �n inkklad-kol en roep klankloos na haar uit: �O Maria, O Maria! Hierdie brief sal jy nooit lees. Ek wil nie met jou deel nie my bekommernis en vrees!� In die fort word dit stil want dis half-voor-een en die langhaar-man l� op sy arms heen. Maar die lamp bly brand want die nag is lank toe haar hand oor sy slapende skouer streel. �O Maria, O Maria!� Lees sy in sy eie hand; �Ek My verlange is na My hande reik na grou-Nederland maar my siel reik na Afrika- son!� In die grou-lumier van die m�re-uur word hy wakker weens die kou Met �n blou kombers wat sy laasnag weer om sy skouers het gevou En hy staar na haar wyl die oggend-straal haar marmer-beeld oorspoel Tevrede in die wete dat sy nou weet hoe hy voel. Maar Maria, O Maria weet want sy ken haar man se hart; In Afrika se diepsee l� �n kontinent vol smart. En eendag as die suiderwind hul huis toe weer moet waai, Dan weet sy, dat sy hart weer, soos die seemeeu suid sal draai. En die langhaar-man met sy lieflingsvrou rus nou lank reeds in Maar in die Kompanjiestuin staan sy beeld nog steeds met �n wandelstaf in sy hand. En hy gee nie om vir die duiwe wat op sy pluim-geveerde hoed, Kom rus nie want hul En sy o� staar nou vreedsaam uit want sy hart is hier gerus, Soos die winde in die berge wat ou Tafelberg kom sus.
Fotos: Die konsentrasiekamp in Irene links, en die konsentrasiekamp begrafplaas in Balmoral regs.
Winternagte, Winterkou
O, winternagte o koue winterre�n Stille winternagte sug die windjie om ons heen Ho�veldse winde waai die kille vlaktes oor Niemand wat die kindjie se sagte doodsgeroggel hoor Stil en bleek gesiggie waarop die kers se skadu�s dans Buite die doodsengel wat gereed staan vir sy O winternagte o sagte gras-gedou Stille winternagte Spierwit ryp dit om my nou Ver oor die deining word �n sagte sug gehoor Hoeveel van sy helde Onderkant die weegskaal vloei �n dapper held se bloed Vader het sy kindjie nog nooit eers kon ontmoet O winternagte wat weemoedig deur hul skeur Stille winternagte tentdoek Anderkant die oosterkim vul �n dreuning heel die lug Donder perdepote die kommando is op vlug En onder in die laagte l� die grafte in �n ry Die harte van �n nasie vir �n pot vol goud verruil O winternagte o hoe sag val die kapok Stille winternagte ver-af beier �n kerkklok O winternagte oor hul grafte spoel die maan Stille winternagte hoe lank sal hul O winternagte daar is rytjies vol vars grond Stille winternagte algar netjies afgerond 13 November 2000 Dis lank na middernag Maar ek staan nog hier en wag Met doodswit vuiste vol van koue staal Duisend mense in my stad Maar daar�s nou slegs ene wat Besef hoe kosbaar tyd nog soms Deur die vensters van my sel Kan ek nog die sterre tel Maar die ruim begin al stadig reeds verbleek Dis my laaste lewensuur Want die son is byna hier Om die oosterkim met sy strale te glasuur En ek staan nou hier en dink Wyl die stad nog vreedsaam blink Waar is die jare almal heen? Dat �n onbesonne daad En �n hart gevul met haat n Menselewe so maklik * Want ek�s die laaste prisoner In my laaste lewensuur By dagbreek moet my lewe eindig hier En ek staan nou hier en wag Vir die stewels van die wag Wat netnou kom om by buite toe te lei Teen die wit muur sal hy my stel En �n offisier sal tel Terwyl die son se eerste strale val Tegelyk kom daar �n knal En �n siel wat grond-toe val Die wrede hart reeds sewe maal deurboor Ja ek�s die laaste prisonier In my laaste lewensuur By dagbreek moet my lewe eindig hier En ek weet dis feitlik oor En ek weet ek het verloor Teen die wit muur word my skuld finaal betaal
Die W�reld is �n Koue Vriend 20 Julie 2009, Glentana V�r oor die glans van die oseaan Waar die wind die toekoms inwaai En verder nog waar die wolke brand Waar die son sy rus ingaan En verder as dit waar die volle maan Sy pad deur die Melkweg los kom slaan Dis daar miskien, of ek weet ook nie Waar ek my troos sal vind Vir �n gebroke hart, �n ingeduikte siel En verstand wat arm is aan hoop Maar die w�reld is �n koue vriend Hy vra nie vrae nie Hy sluit sy o� en stap dan voort En so neem die lewe maar sy loop� Waai wind, waai deur my Waai deur my by die horison verby
Martha Angeline 1901-1901 Glentana., 2011-09-30 (Martha Angelina Kolbe was die dogtertjie van George Augustus Kolbe en Martha Sophia Klopper. Sy het gesterwe tydens die Tweede Anglo-Boereoorlog in 1901 voor sy �n volle jaar oud was. Sy is vernoem na haar voormoeder, Martha Angelina Van Breda, wat volgens familie legende vernoem was na �n skip.) Ek stap weer deur die ou kerkhof Aan�t vleikant van ou Wakkerstroom Verpoos dan by �n kleine grafsteen Aan dig-begroeide soom Uitgebytel in die sandklip Staan haar naam nog steeds in blom Martha Angeline Kolbe Tussen lang gras in die son Sy�s gebore in die oorlog Sy�t gesterwe voor die vrede �n Steen is al wat oor is Op die kruispad van haar lewe Ek het jou nooit geken nie Maar ek het van jou geweet Want die liefde wat vir jou was Bly in vertelling nog steeds leef Angelina jy�t gesterwe In ons volk se donker uur Onder dwinglandy en swaarkry Porselein se dun glasuur Volgens oorlewering en legende Is jy vernoem na �n ou skip Maar jou vaartuig is gesonke En jou draadjie afgeknip Angelina jou bloed en myne Spruit uit een lewensfontein Dit vloei steeds oor God�s akker En deurwater nog Sy tuin Slaap geduldig liewe niggietjie Want waar jy is, is tyd kort En eendag voor jou naam verweer het Sal ons twee verenig word Al is daar helaas niemand oor nie Wat jou verlies nog steeds beween Onthou ek jou en lees jou naam �Martha Angeline Kolbe, negentien-nul-een�
Photo: Glentana shipwreck.
Rusted Wrecks On Golden Beaches Glentana 2011-11-16 Your rusted bones and ochered timbers Upon a golden beach lie cast away You ran aground at the bleed of dawn When your anchor�s hold broke off that day There they robbed you of your pride and honour Stripped your instruments and spoiled your grace Then sent it on to the foundry�s oven Before discarding you to cruel fate Ancient vessels, wasted carcasses Upon the dirty rim of ocean�s tide There they rot and there are eaten By rust that gnaws through toughened hide Each year just a little deeper Every decade several rivets break Until one day there�ll be nothing over Of your one inch Skeleton ribs with sharp-tipped fingers Fend like drowning hands against the spray But with every blow of mighty rollers More and more flakes fall away Wrecks and old men, weathered faces Rust streaked souls and haunted eyes They melt away with slow decay And struggle against each bleeding day But the ocean always wins the battle Time never fails to claim the prize And of ships and men there soon will be no Traces left of forgotten lives
Photo: Blind old beggar., Jusepe de Ribera., c. 1632., WikiPaintings., http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/jusepe-de-ribera/blind-old-beggar
Come on Rich Guy I saw him sitting crookedly He was blowing a recorder They said �come on, come on, rich guy I dropped my penny slowly He said �come on, come on, rich guy
Photo: Billiard players (The drinker)., Honore Daumier., WikiPaintings., http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/honore-daumier/billiard-players-the-drinker
The Bottle of Despair You didn�t think I�d see your ugly face But there�s that old smell in the air You drank another bottle From the cellar of despair And in the half-light I can see you now Where you sit with your hands within your hair And now and then you steal a glance at me To make sure I am still there I know I shouldn�t waste my time on you But then I figure �what the heck?� I hardly have much else to do And besides, you are my only friend I guess there�s something such as loyalty Between a man like me and you And without all your morbid jokes I sometimes don�t know what I�d do Old friend you know me well You�ve seen my ups and downs Me with my inverted smile And my gaze upon the ground Yes I�m sure I�m not the easiest Of men to be around But if I had to choose my friends again You�d beat �em all hands down Fair weather friends I�ve had enough They tend to come, then fly away But you with your old weathered face You somehow always stay I�m sorry that I never did Give you the credit that was due But at least you were the only one Who did not drag me down with you Now as I sit here in my quiet room I do not need to hear you talk And when you�ve had enough of me You do not greet me when you walk But it least it felt like conversation to me Even though we did not speak And I smile when I know you�ll be back In a day or in a week When you�re away I smell you still Your dirty liquor in the cold stale air And when I look across the room There waits your empty rocking chair Yeah nothing is easy these days Then again, it�s never been And if I do not lose again I guess that I will win
Photo: Glentana beach.
The Ocean and the Water
Quietly the ocean whispers Silently the heavens stare Violently the swell does heave now Lifting tufts of your dark hair
"See me now," the wind is growling "Did you think I'm always calm? I'll rouse you to violent thunder When you dance to twilight in my arm"
�Yes!� the waters roar with brazen boldness �Yes, I'll dance the day with you And when our passion's long blown over My soul and I�ll belong to you�
�Dance oh daylight, win me over Dance through every darkened night You, the storm, the wind and water You�re my inner-most delight�
�Whisper softly, shout with passion Scream your feelings out to me You�re the hunger and the longing You�re the ocean life in me�
Photo: Chateau Wood Ypres 1917., Wikipedia., http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Chateau_Wood_Ypres_1917.jpg The War That Would End All Other Wars We were young and we were strong and we were brave So many of us just could not wait To be sailing away to the killing fields of Where thousands of us would find early graves There was precious little rest or consolation When my best friend was killed by a mine And when we shipped his body home in a little wooden box It was the year of 1939 As I close my eyes I can see it again We were young men out on a sortie When a bomb wiped out our entire platoon Except me in the winter of 1940 Some of us just stopped caring about dying We saw death as an exit from hell And sometimes we never even bothered to look When a comrade right next to us fell Oh how could I ever begin to explain How the mud and the cold and the rain Made a melancholy winter that depressed everyone Before the spring came in 1941 It was a war that nobody asked for It was a war in which no one was right We just did what we were told while we hoped and believed That the old men who sent us had been right By the time there were so very many bodies And we just did not know what to do We just dumped them in the trenches and then we covered them up In the summer of 1942 In this time death was our constant companion And fear clung like rust to our soul And there were times that I wanted to burrow In the earth like a frightened little mole There was a time when we used to dream of medals We�d be the heroes who would set the world free But now all of those dreams lay shattered in ruins Long before we survived 1943 In that year this young boy became and old man And the next year the old man, he died Well maybe not his body, but his soul did When he stopped caring who is wrong and who is right It was the conflict that had to end all other wars But by the time of 1944 It was clear that there would be others like this And that things would go on as before When it seemed that the war would last forever That we�d fight until none was left alive We were told that the old men had finally had enough That we�d go home before the of �45 So at night I sometimes relive in my dreams The bullets, the blood and the bombs It is then that I hope that I will be dead By the time that the next big one comes
Burning Ships Upon the Water Glentana 2010-06-17 What do you say when it�s all over? What do you say when it�s all done? What do you feel when there�s no reason? For all that has been said and done? Burning ships upon the water Burning images upon my mind Burning bodies upon the Burning watches in the stream of time So what�s your answer to my question? What do you have to say to me? How do I describe the feeling? When I�m floating on fire and free? Burning bridges across rivers Burning ships upon a burning shore Burning memories, all those memories Cannot keep them anymore
Foto: Jack Millet as 'n Baba., Wikipaintings., http://www.the-athenaeum.org/people/detail.php?ID=368
Die Simfonie Van Stilte Slaap maar soet my liefling Saggies waai die wind Hoor hom saggies fluister Rus nou soet my kind En weet �n stille rustigheid Daal oor die aarde neer Maanlig klee in vreedsaamheid Die velde van die Heer Juwele van die ewigheid Skitter in die ruim En sal Hy om oor jou te waak Ooit Sy plig versuim? Nog langer as die rooi planeet Vurig oor ons brand Sal Hy steeds vir jou beskut Veilig in Sy hand O winternag geduldig Sal ons op die m�re wag Verseker in die wete Van �n nuwe dag Luister nou my liefling Hoe die stemme van die nag In die simfonie van stilte Vertel van die brekende dag...
Men sometimes say that I�m a poet Poem by Herman Labuschagne Glentana, 3 May 2013 Men sometimes say that I�m a poet A weaver of words in structured form And even though they seldom know it I�m the well that holds the storm If I had to make a rhyme for you You�d clench your breast and sigh My pen writes dreams and thoughts of you In clouds across a frozen sky Shall I craft a verse of wonder? Scrawled by my own trembling hand? Feel the storm and watch the thunder Etch your dreams in desert sand? Nothing should be said without A word that rings or rhymes Poetry is the last redoubt Of every hope that ever shines If my poems should make you smile That would make me glad But know that sometimes for a little while They�ll also leave your spirit sad I am but a lowly poet A stringer of some paltry ditties The rower of a dream-rigged boat On a moon-filled pond with golden lilies All the worlds laments the passing Of kings and knights and noble braves But few are there that would lay a rosie Upon a simple poet�s forgotten grave |
This website was built by Ewisoft Website Builder.