A westbound fog steadily showing its face,
as the sun hides its own.
On a bus bound for somewhere far from here,
an unknown destination far away from home.

Through every savanna, through every green field,
through every soggy
marshland with mud sticking to the heels.

It seems that everywhere I go,
whether it be high or low, far or near
time never seems to slow
and she’s never really here.

With every shrinking cigarette,
each separate dying ember,
with each slow wilting flower,
with each breath, I surrender.

Thoughts of the living traded in for the dead.
“Vanitas” or such, I believe men once said.

why did we cry when the **** kicked in?
its like we’ve always been
a black and white frame from a love filled scene,
or a joy filled dream

but when the morning birds sang we found ourselves not in the clouds
rather bound to the ground

the joy from the night before paved the way
for a bleaker reality,
one in which we could not see,
the subtle, right in front us,
everyday beauty

a decrepit heart, but smiling still
just know i love you, and i always will

yet nothing here said could make you stay
the lone and level sands stretch far away

the sunset over the atlantic
is truly a sight to see
the vast and level water
and the weak yet present breeze

the slowly sinking sun
like a steadily drowning ember
marked the end of the chapter
of a day i’d rather not remember

was it his physique or his hair
or his words or his touch
was it worth ending our love
for as little as such

the happy couples passing by
they haven’t got a notion
at this beautiful cold beach
my tears became an ocean

beauty is still to be found in the bent double tulip,
in the storm-torn remains of a once proudly standing flower,
its colors remain vivid and bright.

it takes both strength and perseverance to face the raging winds,
to stand tall, to not cower
under circumstances laden with plight.

and whilst we sometimes get knocked down,
and get hit with the heaviest of loads,
the tulip bulb remains in the ground,
and next spring, will be ready to grow.

what is time
but a ****** up concept we all get caught up in
a foolish game no one ever seems to win

see , i don’t need einstein to tell me that time is relative
a second of staring into your eyes feels like  a lifetime of love and fulfillment

and if time is all we have, i’m going to relish every single moment
live a life of commitment
and whether it be heartbreak or old age that separates our paths
ill know there was a time in which i loved, and love, i still do

i have spent too many lifetimes under the moon to fear the darkness of night

i have thought of you too much
to suddenly lose you out of sight

see, i have dreamt of you so much
that i lost touch with what is real

loved with the passion of a raging fire
that even the darkest nights can’t conceal


unfortunately the sun must rise
and we should do the same
for to live the dream of love and joy
is like fire in the rain

Lately we’ve been growing distant,
as my vision’s been growing blue.
It seems the harder I hold on,
the more I lose sight of you.

But don’t let that distance turn into doubt,
cause if this is merely a sample of heartbreak,
I don’t want to know what the whole thing’s about.

Know that I’ve had no doubt on my mind.
Every time you walk into the room, I think of the beautiful early bird sitting lonely in that lecture hall.
A memory I can still distinctly recall.

A memory I’ve been falling back to quite a lot these past few days.
One that prevents me from wandering off and going astray.

And I realize these words might be cringe, but please know that they’re true.

After every little fight we have,
I’m still in love with you.

my hearts as black as night
hallow and mistreated

and though i act alright
i feel as if i need it

your love, like a wildfire
filled me with endless desire
and died just as swiftly
after having burned right through me

but still these dark nights
harbor thousands of little lights

my hope reflected in the stars at dawn
but when i’m finally sober they’ll be gone

you said our love was unconditional
genuine, with no strings attached

but what is that love worth
when you dont love me back

As jy weer in jou dagboek skryf
Onthou
Dat daar rede genoeg is
Om te bly vashou

Die goue blaar in die somerson,
En die blou moederkappies
Hulle wag nog steeds vir jou

Teen tafelberg
Waar onskuldige bloed nog steeds
Vermeng is met die sout see water

Daai water wat ons voorouers gedra het naar hierdie land van prag en praal
Het jou bevry en weggedra naar n plek ver hier vandaan

Ook al is ek en jy deur afstand en tyd geskei
Hou ek daai oop bladsy
Van jou treurigheid
Langs my sy

The red glows of the last summer sun
Shone nowhere near as bright as you
Our Pacific Highway trips with water cool
When you'd never catch me feeling blue

I hope he takes you on trips
To where the sea kisses sand
To where the views last forever
I hope he holds your hand

I'm sorry I had to go
Guess death wouldn't let us be
Whenever you see a setting sun
Do you still think of me?

On some rainy and gloomy autumn day,
A constant beeping of heart monitors,
Murmurs echoing through halls,
The odors of cleaning alcohol and decay,
Old and decrepit, still here, I lay

Peering through the shutter, opened wide,
At the rain knocking down shriveled-up leaves,
At various little plants that have lost their color and died,
In memories I dwell, to distract me of what comes closer,
I sigh,

It’s funny how these leaves have remembered the color of your eyes,
And the wind, your sweet embrace,
It’s funny that it’s been 50 years,
That I haven’t seen your face,

I wonder If you still remember me,
Or the laughs we used to share,
Or how you changed me as a person,
To again believe in love and care,

If only I could go back in time,
To those winter nights, in the cold,
I’d put it all on the line,
And send you “ily’s” through the phone,

Or more snarky pick-up lines,
In which my *******-ness would show,
Or more pictures that I had snapped that day,
I should’ve written you more poems,

Never again, in my travels, did I meet someone,
That had her humor or beauty,
Or her wit or her charms,
Or her sensitive, kind soul, you’d want to protect from all harm,

Now I lay here, yet I smile,
Because in memories of you,
I’m naught but beguiled,

And I know I am being called from above,
But I still pay it little to no mind,
As I’m still stuck on cloud number 9,
Because of she who still believes in love.