You are that book I love to read...
the one that is unreadable-
no matter how hard I try...
I cant get my head wrapped around you

you are unreadable...

and it's driving me crazy,
because I m sure I am falling for someone
who has no interest in ever catching me...

but I'm not stopping now
id rather fall and get hurt by you...
to take the chance...
than to maybe someday live with the what-if's

and we cant hold hands...
we cant embrace...
there is no physicality involved...
it's lost somewhere in the thousands of miles that separate our hearts
but that doesn't stop me from listening to the saved voice-notes
and saving your photo as my wallpaper

because every time I look into those mystifying
,yet somewhat mocking brown eyes...
my heart skips a few thousand beats
Those bushy black eyebrow's ...
that cute button nose!!
it all makes me hope that someday...
all the goodbye's we text,
will turn into the goodnight's we whisper in each others ears...

but for now I'm fine with smiling at the screen....
for now I'm  fine with crying when I play your voice-notes...
blushing when you flirt with me...
because...
for now...
I'm okay with listening to the harmony...
of two heartbeats in the distance

The science around dreaming, states that each night
we dream a dozen dreams...
but we only remember the one we wake up from

So for exactly 34 days I've tried to dream...
tried to dream about you, about us...
I remember each night when you said good-bye
how playfully you will add your command
that I should dream about you

and now...
after exactly 34 days of trying
and 1 day of crying...
I finally did

I dreamed about you
I dreamed we kissed
I dreamed I was in your arms once again
that you lay next to me, in my arms
and in my dream...
my world was at peace
even when disaster struck... I knew I was okay
...
because I still had you

and when I woke up this morning
I rushed to my phone to text you...
to share my excitement with you...
to say...
"I FINALLY dreamed about you,
and it was AMAZING"

but then I saw your last text...
the one that shattered my world
dancing over my incomplete textbox
... mocking me with its words , like daggers

"I'm sorry, but I'm over it. It's not going to turn me off anymore ...
I just think that, maybe... maybe we should take a break"

A lonely tear ran down my cheek,
was never met by 'n mate
although he hoped, he dried before,
was killed by the wait

The news of my dream was like a pack of angry wolves
or a front page story that got moved to be lost in the folds of the paper
aching to burst out and be heard... and be appreciated...
but to whom can I tell these dreams??

You don't want to hear from me
My parents don't want to hear about you
My friends don't want to hear anything other then their love
...
to who will I spill my soul...

so I will write you a message on a pretty piece of paper...
and burn it when next I smoke

when darkness comes and the city takes to life
I will climb on the roof and holler it to the masses...

... hoping that maybe...
just maybe...
one will holler back.

and maybe...
just maybe...
that one will be you

I confess of my heart
to the waves in the sea
and roar with breaking waters
as they celebrate with me.

I dance through secret gardens
of lust and luscious greens
as we consider the what if's
and what might have been's.

I cast all my worried thoughts
into the celestial deep
before I lovingly glance up
at the stars and fall asleep...

lastly I wait , for an eternity
it would seem
until finally I find myself
in something better than a dream.

I am forever alone
Cursed to solitude by feeding the hand
that bit me... that bites me.

I am a collaboration of three word sentences
spinning an intricate web of lies
with I don't know's and yeah I'm fine's.

I am a perplexed situation of no it's nothing.
A collection of I'm just being silly's.
I am a coward.

I am also bipolar.
and maybe gay, for saying this
, but I am...

I am also inlove with you.

**** it! the word is YOLO!
You Only Love Once
everything that came before
or follows after
is written of as collateral damage.

But once your drunk, HA!
once your drunk the world is your oyster
to **** on as you please.
Who likes oyster anyway.

I will whirl my worries away
and bring them up in delightful foamy colors
as I spin the world out of control
till all your faces disappears in the blur
of a world that seems to be moving forward
without me.

Don't be a ******* idiot.
Text her , you lost your dignity when
you shagged the tree a few blocks back.
Don't you dare cry, just swear
and **** your darling.

If I was drunk, but alas
intoxication is a *****, because
you lost me whilst ******* on oysters,
and while you stole my heart
I wish you'd stop calling me a tree.
I wish you were collateral damage.
I wish I was drunk- with you.

I'm a little bit broken...
but still I live
with all the shards of my broken heart
I have learned to love

I've never seen the light of love
never tasted lips
that thought of me as human being

And when I remember last December
when Santa' s beard fell off
and he simply became my Dad
I think of you and how your eyes turned cold

When the Easter eggs lost their spark
and the hunt turned into tradition
I think of when your love was nothing more
than a piece of freezing gold

Like all my childhood beliefs,
you proved me wrong
and I was left between the shattered pieces
of rainbow glass
because you even tore down my
Saint Petersburg chapel...
and I am broken
and I am
broken

I'm a little bit broken...
but still I live
with all the shards of my broken heart
I have learned to love

I've never seen the light of love
never tasted lips
that thought of me as human being

And when I remember last December
when Santa' s beard fell off
and he simply became my Dad
I think of you and how your eyes turned cold

When the Easter eggs lost their spark
and the hunt turned into tradition
I think of when your love was nothing more
than a piece of freezing gold

Like all my childhood beliefs,
you proved me wrong
and I was left between the shattered pieces
of rainbow glass
because you even tore down my
Saint Petersburg chapel...
and I am broken
and I am
broken

Tonight
whilst the moon shine full and bright
inspiration hits
flows down on silver light

It dances in my thoughts
provokes my thinking
my reasoning becomes irrational
and it's all because of you

for weeks on end
the words were few
the illness of my mind
was still fresh like morning dew

but then
out of nowhere...
on the sound of your voice
my muse came waltzing
and it's all because of you

heart beats faster,
sorrows grow fainter
and I give in to the unconditional inspiration
called love

and I thank you now with words
with which abundance flows
with the emotions you bring forth
with time, it grows

thank thee my love
thanks for the cure to my disease
thank thee my love
as I write these words to please

Sprei jou vlerke
My struikel-kind
, want die berge se rante
Steek skerp teen die wind

Vlug vir jou onskuld
Vlug na die son
Vlieg weg van Gamora
ontsnap van *****

Vlieg ver oor die wolke
My struikel-kind
Daars ń storm wat broei
, maar hou jouself blind

Want sere en blase
Word gou-gou weer heel
Maar geen pleister plak toe
Die letsel van ***
Honger hande neig
Om jou kinderlikke onskuld van jou af weg te steel...

Sprei oop jou vlerke
My struikel-kind
Want die berge se kranse
Hang laag in die wind
Kruip weg vir die hande
Wat jou wil verslind
En keer terug na jou kinderdae
Om jouself weer te vind...

Liefde...
Van ń kaalvoet-kind

Knipoog, wink-oog
Loop verby
Hart kyk weg
Om die invloed te vermy

Raak an my hand
Vat mis, raak my siel
Raak ek verlief?
Wat het my besiel?

Knipoog , winkoog
Is dit vir my?
Nee , dis vir haar...
Jy kyk my verby!!

Lok uit suspisie
Gee my die hoop;
Hoeveel ander het
Hul siel aan jou verkoop?

Bruin oog, blink oog
Blink jy vir my?
Lees weer jou rympies
Om my hart te kry!!

Maak gou liefste
Lewe flits verby,
Lees jy jou rympies:
Vir haar...
Of vir my!?

Ek het jou verloor tussen die lyne van my eksamen blok...
Jy was die orde in my
Lewe, die yin
Van
My yan....

My tipografie is
A
F
Want dit was jy wat
My met
Grense ingehok het
En my weerhou het
Van die eindelose hartseer
Wat in vryevers
Verskuil lê...

Maar ek het my eksamenblok
En jy het jou lektor wat
Veg
Vir die aandag wat by hom moet wees
, maar gemors word
O
P
Mense
&
Dinge
wat jou verlei...

Ons laatnag gesprekke
Ons saamlag-
Saam sing-
Saam huil-
Saamwees-
-sessies probeer vir lewe en dood klou...
Maar In die tiktak van
Die horlosie verdwyn
Die laaste bietjie van jou...

Jou ure is nie
Meer dieselfde as
Myne nie...

En die beelde van jou
Is nou slegs
'n goeie herrennering
En 'n hartseer what if...

Totsiens

**** jy die **** van yster-gordyn wat val en die aarde omhels ten laaste sy afwaartse versnelling.

Dit maak seer mamma...

Gewere word neergelê as ń universiële teken van hoop en vrede , maar verlang na ń lid van die geledere.

Dit maak seer mamma...

Ons was almal naïef; in ons drome was daar plek vir twee,
Ń eindelose see waar ons kon wegvaar van die ontbindinde spoke van gister, waar ons ons hande in soutwater-poele kon was iewers langs die kus van versoening...

Dit maak seer...

Niemand sou kon raai dat die jare se snellertrek en loopgraaf grawwe jou eens sagte vel kon magnetiseer nie... *** kon ek voorsien dat jy ń bietjie van die geweld gaan steel het om vir jouself te hou nie. *** sou ek weet dat jou vingers jeuk sonder die dooie staal wat dit streel nie...

Een skoot
Twee skote
Drie skote
Ń eenman vuurpelaton reën op my neer en dring deur my ope arms...
Jy het nog altyd ń plek in my hart gehad, maar nou het jy dit beset met lood en alle onskuld uitgerook met brandende kruit...

Dit maak seer...

Dele van jou hang nog swaar op al die plekke wat saakmaak en seermaak en trek my af grond toe...

Eina...

Liefde ek het altyd geweet ons het mekaar se ruë gehad... ek hey net nie geweet jy was besig om ń rooi kruis vir jou fissier op myne te verf nie...

Dit maak seer mamma...
Koebaai

Ek raak van tyd tot tyd verlore
in die vlaktes van my verbeelding
op 'n eindelose reiktog
na die goue uitloopsels van more

, ander kere skuil ek in die klowe
en trek my toe in n berg kombers...

daar kan ek skree
- en huil
-en lag.

Daar kan ek die eie self
in n lastergil uitlok en wag
vir die koue kras kranse
om dit terug te werp in my ope arms.

My verbeeldingshuis le in die kranse...
my drome rol in oor die see se soutwater golwe...
en ek, ek le iewers in die middel
van perfekte harmonie
en absolute chaos.

Ek . droom . eindeloos...

Jou eierbeloftes word
In mooi woordjies
En trane spoortjies
Toegedraai
En ingelyf
In die raadsale
Van my helderheid
En my bekwaamdheid
Oor gesonde redenasie
Uit legio self disintigrasie

Ek bêre dit knus
In my eie kluis
Te midde my huis
Ń yspaleis

As ek dit bewaar
Teen die donker gevaar
Wat dreig uit elke
Oordeelsdag
Wat op al die ponde
en onse wag
Elke "ek het vasgeval in verkeer"
Elke "jou wanvertroue maak my seer"
Elke kode woord
Agter die slot op jou skerm
bly jou sondeval verstoord!!
Jou eierbelofte is ń kuikenmoord!!

Dan hardloop ek terug
En kyk na die dop
Wat my toe snou
As ek dit net stywer toevou
, minweted salmonella
En bylepes
Skuil in die amnion
En wurg die blou driehoek
Op ń voortrekkervlag
Eet ek daarvan sal die dood op my wag

Jou eierbeloftes
Jou akkideskak eer
Jou asyn rein liefde
Sal ek bly trotseer

Vergewe my tranedal
Want blykbaar is
Ek net verlief
Op my eie terugval

My letsels is die sinne
My vel is die papier
Lees daaruit wat jy wil
Die wat omgee bly nog hier

My trane is die voorblad
My bloed is steeds die ink
In my skree ń monster
Wat ek nog moet verdrink

Die rowe is die punte wat
Ek soms nog skraap en skuur
My voorkop pêrel sweet
In my oë brand hell se vuur

My lemme is my penne
Die papier hier op my lyf
Elke liewe liefdes briefie-
Ń letsel, net vir jou geskryf...

Ons almal breek,bou
Snoesig toegvou
Versteek van ware
Ellende
En die ellende
Van die waarheid
Leuens maak ń knus kombers
Tot hul te veel raak
Jou storie: In bloed
Op die laken in gepers!!

Ek die lieplapper
Fladder in die wind
Soos ń herfs betaste blaar
Wat in die dwarrelwinde
Tolbos en die reels
Van swaartekrag verag

My kop is op ń blok gesit
Soos die twee vir ń stywers
Wat inner kompaste volg
Na waar die hart mag lei
Sterk oppad na iewers
Maar word deur nikse
En nerense verlydelik gefly

My V formasie vervorm
, vlieg vêr vooruit
Tot waar ek sig verloor
Van veilige jolheid.
Ek verkoop my vryvlieg siel
Aan die voëlwip en sy wag
Onbewus van die somer
Wat oor die waters op my wag.

Ekt my siel verkoop aan
Die winterson...
Prysgegee, môre se geluk
Die stofwolk op die Horison

Môre trap jy oor my
Windverstrooide oorblyfsels
En neurie ń afskeidslied
In jou binnenste.
Jy koester dalk ń traan
Of twee.
Vir die gees van ń
herfsblaar lieplapper
Wat in selfverwyt besterwe

Knuppeldik gaan slaap die stad
na 'n feesmaal van smaak en kleur
vloei die reuke deur die strate
in 'n Brown se beweging van geur.

Alle trommels , trommeldik maar maak 'n lee geraas
en in die donker , agterstrate begin die ander nou te aas

Kom die honger hande uit die sakke
en krap met rook-geel vingernael
soek die skummel in die swartsak
vir 'n laaste dissipelsmaal.

Maar jy is skille , jy is doppe
jy is alles wat laat gril
nie genoeg vir koningstafels maar vir my
net genoeg om die  knaagdiere te stil.

Onerfare soos ek is , vat my hongerbrein ook mis
watter mens kan so dan lewe? watter mens kan so dan eet?
van die lykswa en die straatveers
het hierdie boemelaar vergeet.
Ek is mens en nie 'n vark nie,
(al moet 'n mens ook eet).

En stil vergaan die boemelaar
wat kieskeur ook wou wees,
nog 'n straatkind se ou lykie
nog 'n honger kinder gees...

ek wat was het mos gesien
*** kos op tafels lyk,
en het sodanig hart verloor
op kosse kleur en ruik.

Met 'n bord vol knubbels le die lykie
voor hom , onaangeraak.
Al was kos ook wat kos was daar
het hy te lief vir die droom geraak.

Eerder kwyn en dood verslaan
as om die droom te ruineer.
Eerder dood van honger,
as om hierdie kos , as sulks te eer.

Ek druk my hart onder die kussing en tel tot tien...
Honderd...
Duisend...
Maar dit bly ritmies klop
Onder my koue palms

Ek berê my asem in die verlede
Waar dit vermoedelik
buite jou bereik was
...maar ek het jou vermoeëns onderskat
En nou krioel my binneste met jou teenwoordigheid

Ek gooi my blik na die vloeibare goud van die Vrystaatse vlaktes
, maar jy het my reeds in jou fissier vasgeknoop

En nou openbaar ek my psalms vir die wereld om te lees
, maar hoop jy verstaan...
Ek hoop jy verstaan

Razors pain you
Rivers are damp,
Acid stains you
Drugs make you cramp
Guns aren't lawful
and nooses give
gas smells awful
...you might as well live

I don't quite remember where
I heard this little rhyme before
but it has kept me from doing a lot of things

all the videos on YouTube with there promises
"IT GETS BETTER"
the words circulate the world
through the copper chords
that connects us all

the shrinks and the doctors
and the counsellors and priests
with all there powerful words
...words that empower you for a while but
sadly fades to the back of your mind as
tears fill your eyes

and someday, with the instrument of death
at your fingertips..
you realise that all these words and revalations are all just empty lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies

one for each day of the week
one for the strong
and one for the weak
one for the man with riches and fame
one for the woman in filth doth have lain
one for a smile that should not exist
and lastly one...
for those who insist
that nothing matters
and nothing will change
tomorrow brings tears
yesterday created fears
this problem has no solution
my soul is lost amidst confusion
I don't believe the lies no more
but I won't answer the truth, knocking at my door
I choose to end not my life
but the potential I have
the beauty
the radiance
the hope I might bring to the hopeless
the health to the sickness
the laughter to the tearful
the protection to the fearful

I choose not to end my life
because I believe that my path is set
not for the benefit of myself...

we have no happiness on our path
we must create it...
find it in giving that which we do NOT have
to the ones we do not love

this is our curse...
and don't say it's not fair
because life is not fair !!
because Angels and Saints
...which we seem to be the chosen of...
rarely gain fame while living
or being happy,
or loved

no... we are the angels
we will only be recognised as soon as we lay our heads down
and all the bricks we have laid in this world
start to radiate with our legacy!!

Be strong, for sprouting feathers is a painful process
Be heard, for the voice of justice has been silenced to long
and be proud...

...simply...

because you are

In this world of raging winter
The cold is all I know.
Seeing how I bare my soul
with every breath I blow.

Frost is now my only friend
as it viciously nips my nose.
Sullying my inner child
as it tears through inferred clothes.

Yet my heart thrives on this endless cold,
feeling adept in deaths embrace.
Being but the coldest thing
In all this frozen place.

In this world of raging winter,
the cold is all I know.
Touched by none, I greedily accept
the warm embrace of storms and snow.

The moon whispers all her secrets
in my ear, as I sleep
creating ripples in my pool of thought
as I slumber, I start to weep

she calls out through the mist and fog
that consume my tortured rest
no Father ever hears her song
but to me she will confess

her hollow voice is searing glass
and screeches like a lark
as eyes turn blind and all but see
my ears hear only dark

and when she's full her grievances
become too much to bear
for a lady of the moon is light
weight passes her to spare

I strip down shirts ,
and scraps of dignity
and bare my shoulders however small
so her troubles may fall on me

and so trouble free and weightless
she floats back up to space
turning back to trouble me
at her pre-monthly pace

The weight
of a simple human emotion
weighs me down,
more than a tank ever did
...
the pain
its determined and demanding
to ache
, but im OK
...

In the darkness and confusion that surround me
I play the song over and over again
because I too
have know found the fault in our stars...
the same stars you watched with me
when you laid next to me
on the cold and merciless brick driveway

The chorus starts playing
and with every note, nostalgia
suffocates my soul in memories
and my heart beats the lyrics in Morse-code

...
And I don't want to let this go
I don't want to lose control
I just want to see the stars
, with you
...

over and over I listen to the words
that seem to be pouring out of my heart
with more belief and ambition
then through the little speaker in my phone

...
And I don't want to say good-bey
someone, tell me why
I just want to see the stars
, with you*
...

the moon is gone
the stars twinkle brightly
they give me hope that one day you'll return
, to see them with me
to make them shine brighter...

but until then, i'll just listen
to the song...

until then,
I ache

until then,
i AM NOT OKAY

until then i'll lay in the driveway and wait...
wait for you to come lay next to me

as you once did...
as it should be

Was dit my sonde
om te droom, te wens?
Was dit wreed om te
verwag dat jy my
iewers in jou soet
woorde sou vind?
Kyk ek dalk na jou
met die oorhoofse
afwagting van 'n kind?

Sal jy met sjarme
my kan vermaak of
is teaterkuns
'n masker vir jou haat?

Ek smag na jou taal,
jou moedertong in
my uitgehongerde mond.
Oh die beeld-
wat ons
met sulks silwer stem
kan skep!

*** sal jou brief my vind?
Sal daar 'n tuin ontstaan
as ek jou antwoord naslaan?
Se jy sal bly, net vir my!
Se my brandewyn asem
het jou inner kind bevry!
Se net jy is lief vir my-
en ons sal saam
die tonnel-oog wereld
met soet liefde en
dronkmans woorde verlei.

Skryf saam met my in
hierdie silwertong,
en kyk *** die wereld
in afwagting verstar.

Die liefde wil blom
wanneer twee skrywers
bymekaarkom.

Die wereld raak nat,
met die geuiter,
van ons silwer tong.

Mamma don't you love me
the thought goes through my mind
over and over without a clear path or destination
like a tumbleweed in a desolate ghost town
it rolls around unseen
unlike on the movie screen

her tongue was a battalion
it fired through my soul
with metal shards of hateful love

her words were like a leather belt
that licked me time and time again
hit straight through tissue blood and veins
and hit my heart , my lonesome bitter heart

my house is painted in tiny black lines
the shadows from the bars
that surround the now empty and cold chambers of my heart

last night you ruined a lot more than just a tiny little crush
your ruined an opportunity for love
one for smile
one for tears
one for memories
one for some more fears
you ruined the chance for me to love again
one for me to be loved back
you ruined a chance for me to fall
to hurt myself and cry over the pain
you see...
you didn't ruin my night
or my crush
or my dignity
you ruined my chance at another chapter in life

I can't write a story
if you edit out the chapters mother...
the story would end and seem unfit
to ever be published
I can't write a story, If you take out all the chapters
I'd rather just stop writing
and leave it all unfinished

because you loved me to death
and the contradiction killed me

Tonight when the moon bleeds
out the sky in it's
pre-montly cycle
Me and my love will be
dancing in ditches and
Play hopscotch on yesterday
And all the landmines it left
For us to trip over...

And when we grow weary from
Pecking out shrapnel
From our tattered bodies...
Me and my love will wallow
In the pain of inflicted sins.

There is no rest for a troubled soul
But we will rest our heads on
The doubled-over bodies
ad they slowly blow away
To dust in the wind.

That is the fate-
Of me and my love

Die studies van vraagtekens
wat ons koppe krap
en klont lont laat brand
opsoek na ellipse en vonke spat.

Die wetenskap wat vrae vra
soos die jonges van dae
wat nie einlik wil weet nie
- wat nie die honger vir wonder wil heet nie
-wat uitroep tekens wil uitroep in n vraag
en hoop dat die tronke sal voller word
, want hulle weet n lee kerk is n gebou
en geloof is net te vinde binne jou!

Ek blyk n kenner te wees,
want *** maklik verdwaal ek nie
in n woud van waaroms nie?

As die donker van n liefdelose dag om jou toevou
en jy versekering soek vir jou troesou
van blindstaar en wangdraai,
begin jy jouself toesnou
met vrae soos spieelkrake en lemsnye
ontdek jy die pseuodo metafisika van die siel.
Ek, verkul n wetenskap op my eie.

Jou boodskappe die sonstrale
wat elke nou en dan my dag wil maak
en ook soms 8 minute vat om by my uit te kom
maar gee lig en lewe in my donker wereld

al is jy miljoene bietjies weg van my af
is jou liefde n warm drukkie wat ek
moeiteloos in elke donker nag
om my bang lyf kan vou

jy wat agter die horison jou eie horison sien
en dalk self die maan met my deel
,van n ander kant af,
dra ek na aan my hart...

soos n tietie sonder nippels
of n bangmaak boek sonder sy stippels....
is my lewe net plein
en puntloos sonder jou.

Jy is my duisend-myle-weg
, maar altyd daar,
chill-jou-guava maaitjie
wat my weghol hart bedaar.

Familie buite stam en bas
bloedloos dalk , maar hegte vas
grenslose vriende oor die wereld heen...
God se grootste seen.

- aan al my vriende wat ver weg bly , maar meer beteken as my eie asem en wat ek dierbaarder ag as my virginity ;) ek is so ongelooflik baie lief vir julle.

Carinda du Toit. Aldridt Koltzow. Marli Roux. Tarryn Forster. Frederik Rudolph van Dyk. en al die ander...

Sickening and ******
This is the life and love I Chose?
-no , not chose , the one I got.
I was handed this was I not?
This love I have for men...

I was bullied on the playgrounds
Since I can remember.
Back then being gay was something
Entirely different then my mature mind now comprehends.
But even then I noticed it was
Something all mankind resents.

I guess deep down Ill always love
Women. What's not to love.
But turning a blind eye won't help
, love is blind anyway
Or so they say...
I geuss this means I must be gay.

But will I recieve blessing ...
Or scorn from up above??
Dear God , is this morose
Or is this also love??

We cut our wrists
With our shattered dreams
And **** ourselves
With the jagged edges
Of a broken society

Ek was die Suid Weste wind
wat jou wintermaande bring
, jou skimme van diepsee inwaai
om jou land ontsuimig te laat.

Ek was die ysige hand
wat jou sagte vlees knyp
en nakend onder my sagte streling
laat vries in die kou en sy ryp.

Die onaardse storm van skadu's
wat sonder ophou jou
uit jou midnag sliuimer ruk
as ek soos n besetene
in die vroegoggend aan jou deur kom pluk.

Watter vors sou jy, ag
tsja ~ so nietig
teen my kon inrig
*** sou jy kon staan
as ek my volle wendings op jou rig?

*** naief was ek om teen
jou te hammer en myself
keur op keur teen jou vas te gooi
, waar jy onomwonde staan.

Jy ~ vind ek ook toe uit~
die tafelberg van my ou bestaan.

Ek het jou verloor tussen die lyne van my eksamen blok...
Jy was die orde in my
Lewe, die yin
Van
My yan....

My tipografie is
A
F
Want dit was jy wat
My met
Grense ingehok het
En my weerhou het
Van die eindelose hartseer
Wat in vryevers
Verskuil lê...

Maar ek het my eksamenblok
En jy het jou lektor wat
Veg
Vir die aandag wat by hom moet wees
, maar gemors word
O
P
Mense
&
Dinge
wat jou verlei...

Ons laatnag gesprekke
Ons saamlag-
Saam sing-
Saam huil-
Saamwees-
-sessies probeer vir lewe en dood klou...
Maar In die tiktak van
Die horlosie verdwyn
Die laaste bietjie van jou...

Jou ure is nie
Meer dieselfde as
Myne nie...

En die beelde van jou
Is nou slegs
'n goeie herrennering
En 'n hartseer what if...

Totsiens

Sy vra: "Hoekom is jy nou so n non"?
Ek sê: "**** is mos eintlik net vir die lewendes".

Ek is my eie memento mori.
Jy is die oorsaak van dood.
Laat dit so op my graf geskrywe staan:
-Hier lê die skerwe van iets amper heel-
,want nou sit ek weer aan jou tafel
en my laaste maaltyd is n herkouing
van spoegsels vergete tye saam met jou
En ek kou en ek kou en ek onthou:
*** warm jou hande was teenoor jou hartskou
, *** gretig jy was om my vas te hou
en na die tyd toe te snou.

"Ek sit nou waar jy gesit het"
, grinnik jou wellus oor die porselein rand
en ek wil vir jou sê staan op en gee vet
want almal wat daardie stoel beset
wals met die noodlot en wink vir seer.
"Kom ons probeer , nog n keer"
Sê jou hand langs jou ritsluiter
, maar ek voel n veer
, want kadawers ken nie lustigheid nie
en ek is oorgebalsem met n gelofte.

Los die dooies dat ons rus,
Los daardie "ons" begrawe in die kis.

-Ek en my geraamtes het soms ook 'n uitval

Verdoem deur drome van 'n wakker oog
gee ek in tot die eindelose gekarring.
Waaroor die ophef van 'n silwerdoek beeld
die trane en inspirasie , aangemeld -
en saamgesmelt in elke belydenis?

Ek spaar toe maar my knieë en sak neer
voor die rekenaar en fynkam
die intrieke sydrade van ons spinnerakke
Vergrootglas die letters, opsoek na:
'n Gebed vir - 'n Gebed vir hom...
NEE MY!

Toe speel my storie... Ag ek meen
Sy outobiografie af en ek's aleen.
Elke nou en dan en dan en wan
vee ek oor die rekenaar skerm en
skrik as ek sý gesig sien.

Hy wou dit nie aanvaar nie!
- ek wou regtig nie!
Hy wou verander!
-ek wou regtig graag verander...
ek... - ek bedoel hy;

Ons ma's was swertsend selfs
godslasterik lief vir ons en
haar stickynotes het ons oral vasgekeur
, want Levitikus!!!
Levitikus sê NEE...
Ma sê die Bybel sê:
"Ons is dood".
Ma se sy wil ons nie verloor nie.
Kom sy nie agter dat ons in
haar geweierde woorde versmoor nie.

My knieë is lank genoeg gespaar.
Na 90 minute se snikke en trane
val ek neer voor die Heer en
almal wat nog wil luister.
Ware ellende stort uit perelpoele
en plas neer op die koue wereld.
Uiteindelik bid ek vir hom, maar
my gebede is te laat - met so
dertig jaar of wat -.

Ek hoop iemand bid vir my...
ek hoop die gebede vind my
- maar vir my , betyds-.
Want ek sit met VIGS van die
siel. 'n Tipe kanker op sy eie 'n
lifelong companion om die eufemisme
mooi te stel...

Ek is Hy.
Hy is ek.
Ons is ons eie tipe mens.

Amen

Onder die laslappie kombers
van die sterre en die maan
het my hart talle male verstik
aan n proetjie eensaam.

ñ koue hart wat reik
Na iets om vas te hou
in bed wat oorloop
Van spasies net vir jou

, maar in die siekbed van die see
Het ek te veel tyd spandeer
Voor n plafon van hoop
Wat met motreen bo my oopskeer.

En in retrospek kyk ek na my bed
Wat nog altyd leeg staan
Nie sonder jou nie
Maar oor die twyfel in my eie bestaan.

My bed was net leeg...
Oordat my hart leeg was
Soos n vol kanvas
Met wit leeg gekwas.

Want ek was daar,
En nou dat ek verstaan
Weet ek die nag is net donker
Sonder die sterre en n maan.

Wat my laat met die vraag...
Was dit die bed of was dit ek
Want wat is werklik leeg-
Die mens , of die plek?

want my fyn porselein is nou skerwe op die vloer
als wat goed is in die lewe;
saam met die suur melk uitgemoer
al my heuningtee en moerkoffie staan nietig in my kas
, ek hunker na n glasie brandewyn
om die herrinneringe mee weg te was.

Want Vader al val 'n duisend aan my sy
en tien duisend hier langs my
vlieg Eros se pyle net die heeltyd verby.
Ek is moeg vir alleen wees
moeg vir bang wees
vir koue voete
koue hande en
'n hart wat altyd koud sal wees.

waars die liefde en genade
waarvan ons in ******
en die Bybel lees.

Waars my stukkie hemel.
Waars my engelkoor.
Is dit ook tussen my suur melk...
of het ek dit deur bottervingers verloor?

Nog net een trekkie
dan nip ek hom nou.
Ek belowe voor skemer
sal ek ook ophou.
Ophou wat?
Ophou bid?
Ophou smeek?
Ophou om die maan te krater
-te breek?

Nee man net nog ene
voor sy kom.
Die maan en haar blinkers
en haar pikgiet swart blom.
Die rokie streel my kolle
en strepe ,- my seer.
Dan kan ek lekker slaap.

Nog een tretjie voor
die nag my kom haal.
Nog net een tretjie
voor ek moet besin
oor die moeilike tye
en vir my sondes betaal.

Die nag wat ons almal op
die highway van die lewe kaap.
Nog 'n ou entjie
voor ek ook gaan slaap.

This is not a rhyme
this is not a poem
there is no hidden messages between ambiguous word
or conveyed through complex metaphors
this is the tears of my heart
bleeding
fuelling me
so that I can find the courage to speak
to speak the words of my soul
the words I've been dying to say
... no
to scream!!!
The words I've been dying to shout out
as a proclamation to the whole world...

I DON'T LOVE YOU
I DON'T because I don't know what love is
but I do know you make me wonder
you make me philosophize about it
about what it feels like
I DON'T know what love is...
but you make me feel
something that must be close to it
...
if not better

I think about you ALL the time...
there is not a moment that passes where I don't think of you...
not a single message from you at which I don't smile
not a single night where I hate the dawn of sleep, because it means goodbye
ALL OF MY FRICKEN POEMS ARE ABOUT YOU

last night when you were here...
in the three seconds that we kissed
in those mere blinks of an eye
when our lips softly brushed
... I was paralysed
... It was the first time in my life where my mind was COMPLETELY quiet
the first time I didn't instruct myself through a kiss
and just let go...

now your scent is stuck to me...
I smell it all the time
the smell is intoxicating
and I think of you with every breath I take
unwillingly falling further and further into your arms...

and so I call you...
just to hear your voice...
just to hear you laugh at what I say...
because hearing your voice makes my day...
the sound of your laughter...
it's a toe curling
goosebump-giving
heart-wrenching
pulse-rising
start-smiling
start-crying
but never nail baiting...
because I know you hate that
... sort of sound.

and I envy the guy who is lucky enough to have you
I envy him with all my heart.
I have a bitterness towards him compared by only few...
and a sadness towards you compared to no other greatness...

why can't you see
that his love for you is not...
nor will it ever be...
the same as my NOT-LOVE for you

can't you see he doesn't give you the romance and the happiness you deserve
the laughter and the acceptance and the complete free will...

can't you see that I adore you
... so much so that I have turned into this monster who envies...
one who feels bitter towards someone he has never met!!!

I am lost without you...
I want you...
I need you...
I want to need you...
I Better-than-love you
I xoxo you and mwa you
forever and continuous
(not-)love (- but better)
me...

Ek het iewers langs die pad
My onskuld verloor
, maar ek **** dis op ń special
By die bottelstoor.
Dis nou jammer ek is platsak
Sonder geld, sonder naam
Onthou my soos ek was
In ma se fotoraam.

Wie sou my kon waarsku dat
Beloftes en my maagdlikheid
So maklik soos vetkruit breek.
Of dat al daai candy cigarettes
My kon leer om ñ Marlboro
Aan te steek.

Vroeg ryp vroeg vrot,
Op dominee se eer
Verloor al jou onskuld en
En probeer maar weer
Om iewers ń Heer te kry
Wat nog omgee vir my.
Terwyl jy sukkel om jou daily bread
Op die tafel te kry.

My pelle gaan dood , word ryk
Besoek die tjoekie
Word groot ,word fake
En kry STD's en kinders
En ander goed wat hul nie soek nie.

Nou loop ek ń pad van plooie
En grys hare en taxes
Waar Yolo jou nie verder bring
Van die kussies nie...

Face it.

Ons was almal jonk
, was al almal dronk
En ń wyse man weet...

Grootword is nie vir sussies nie.

Die môre groet jou met ń nat soen
En ontplooi haar goue gloed
Oor jou fynbos en Olifants-oor
Die wind ween oor die rykdom
Wat jy deur jare van sweet en bloed, vir jouself terug geëis het
, maar streel deur jou grashalms
Met die harmonie van hoop wat deur jou are pols...
Pols, wanneer 4x4 en ossewa spoor oorkruis!

Hier timmer jy aan my
- lê die hoeksteen van ń graniet gebou

Ek sal strewe om jou te eer.

Suid-Afrika , ń ode aan jou.

Vanaand vou ek my snoesig toe
                                                                          in die soet-droom blou lug
iewers tussen die maan en die sterre...

                                                                        en as die liggies  my pla
                                   trek ek weer, soos kleintyd, die duvet oor my kop
                                                                                                    en verbeel myself dat
                                                                                                 jy
                                                             en jou honger hande
                             nie in die werled bestaan nie!!

                                                                                                                    Ek kruip dan in die sagte plekkies
                                                                                                                van ontstuimige oseane...
                                                                                                                             so tussen deur die nate van
                                                                                                   die brekende golwe...
                                                                                           en le terug as die trek
                                                                                                            van moegheid my kom haal...
                                                                                                                        en terwyl die vloeiende satyn
                                                                                                                                     my wange streel...

                                     maak ek my oe toe
                          en glimlag

Rook hom uit met
Silwer linte teer
En nikotien
Smoor hom in
ń bredie van
alkahol en kaffiën
Sny hom uit
Met skêr of lem
Verdoof met dwelms
Die bose gees se stem...

Hy krap swaar laserasies
Wat tierstrepe verf
Oor die sagte weefsel
Van my hoof organe
En spring tussen
Sinapse totdat
Impuls ń inhirente
Sindroom word...

Skree. Hy skree. Hy SKREE.
Krap en skree en brand,
Hy brand .... HY BRAND

So Rook hom uit met
Marlboro red
En black mix
Smoor hom in
ń vat van
Russian bear en red bull
Sny hom uit
Met ń dokter se lem
Snuif hom uit in lyntjies
Dis te veel, sy donnerse stem
...

In die asemdroogtes van die nag
Word ek gebombardeer deur die warrelwinde van my ongesproke woorde
Wat ten laaste my hart van dolomiet versag

Skrapnel vlieg rond in die inner ruimtes van my gesonder verstand
In die geweldadige debat tussen die skynbare sinneloosheid van die Woord
En die gevoel van jou hand in myne

In geheim bou ek ń koningryk van lugkastele
Waarin jou beeld in elke kamer pronk.
Maar selfs díe verdwyn in die wasige misgordyn van dade
Waarvoor ek self nog swyg

Ten slotte:
Ek smag na jou...
-kammeraaddkap

Tussen my gesteelde fotos
En bekoorde akoorde
Verstik ek aan twyfel
In my verlies aan woorde

Ń Oorverdowende stilte
In die kuberruim
,Die koperkoord kletskamers
En bakkiesblad boodskappe.
Trek op jou neus vir
Die new-age kakkerlakke.

Tik my vingers stompies
Op die gladde skerm
Rook in die aande as
My gemoedsbekakkings kerm
Oor die stilte op die foon...
Rukkings deur my lyf
My harts onwrikbare toorn

Ek **** aan jou
Ek droom van jou
Ek wens en hoop op jou
, maar self met die masker
Van moderne tegnologie;
**** jy ook
*** raas die stilte nou?

Vandag vloek-groet ek die verlede
en spuug die suur naam uit
en rig ek al my groot gebede
om gistergoed ook weg te smyt

Maar koester ek die kleine vrees
in die diepste van my hart
sal more net soos gister wees
breek die ook van die smart

en deel ek in vertroulikheid
my woordsopregte eed
as more soos 'n spiel wil lyk
sal dood my uit ellende sleep

Tog, mik ek vir die kruine
- droom my silwer droom
,  vermy vergete pyne
van 'n toekoms palindroom.

Want as my lepel andersom
dieselfde as tevore lyk
wees jy ook nie te verstom
as ek na sagte doodsoen reik.

On a simple day our shoulders
lightly brush as we pass per chance
and the world falls silent
at the meeting of a glance.

As a deep sea met
emerald and set fire to the skies
when sparks flew from between
our , somewhat-comprehending eyes.

This was a moment of crossroads
where future paths be planned to stone
over barren countrysides-
Prosperity or demise, this fate be my own.

I saw our future in
your crystalline tears
living together,
in our golden years
, but be weary i sense also
a life lost to duties-
committed to fear and
other romantic cruelties.

My darling you are
my future meant to be,
but I don't believe in fate.

Some people meet and
are meant to live lives
lovely, complex, intertwined...

Yet we're not that some
, not meant to be.
You're just a pretty passerby,
I say, as I turn away  blindly.

I take the time
to take a breath
and pull my self together
in the pauses in our conversations

Every pause hurts more
every pause a reminder of the third wheel
the longer the silence of the passing time
the more the sting in my heart

I desire your undivided attention
but I'm partly a third
a second division
not deserving of your full magnificence

I struggle with these pauses
I struggle with your heart
I want to be your one and only
but we are just a pause apart

I heard your protest
those two letters singing in my ears
your proclamations cut through my clothes
and left me
****

**** on the cold hard ground

but my heart didn't grasp the meaning
my brain could not compute
I had to get back up
and embrace your person

and although you pulled away
although you thought of him
you always thought of me
when you kissed me back
and ran into my open arms

with persistence I believe
your eyes will open up
you'll see the bright new future
the one you have in me

maybe you'll regret
someday in the forthcoming winters
thoughts blooming with the spring flowers

but never that you left him
only that you did not do it sooner

and I will kiss you on the forehead
and whisper
in your ear
that is doesn't matter
as long as ,now, your here

In nights most darkest hours
when all the worlds asleep
I leave my shadowed stage
and gently start to weep

I cleanse my soul with saline drops
to befoul it yet again
in front of atlas and his wait
the world and all its men

my mask grows painful
a burden in my chest
fake a life I never knew
removed, and I forget the rest

And sheltered in the alleyways
in the scourge of all man kind
there I felt your touch
as your hand slipped into mine

the prince of the sun
then span his golden wings
and took me from my misery
and all those other things

and now in midnight hours
I lay bundled in your arms
after you threw away my mask
and kissed away my qualms

and now I shine the brightest stars
and I play the play for you
you became my audience
the only bliss I knew