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tiny overseer of my sleep
who see s all with ebony button eyes
of endless depth
the silent observer of my dreams
he descends from a proud ancient line
guardian of all sleeping angels
who remains steadfast
in his quiet place
of seemingly endless  meditation
next to me
...............................................  on the.................................................
            ­                            moth eaten pages,  
                                                   i pen
                                            the discovery,
                                                i dread
                                             my existence
                                             in this world.
                                in the abode of black men,
                               among the filth of mankind,
                        scattered in those dimly lighten ghettos
                            relaying an unforgivable legacy
                                                i stood
                                   as a moss covered relic
                              silhouetted against the light
                                             a moppet,
                                born in this tabooed world
                                    a scar upon my kins
                                who likely preferred a boy
                                                biped,
      ­                           standing alone in the moor
                                          beheld a future
                                        turned into debris
                                                like flies ,
                                  swarming around a glare
                                  many a cold hapless eyes ,
                                                   i met
                                        hovering over me
                                      eyeing me - a hellion
                                 and soon they drew my fate
                                                every door
                                         shut upon my face
                                                forcing me
                                        to creep in to corners
                                                  and live
                                          under the shadows
                                   to defy them proved grim
                                        only to be hugged
                                    often by heartless whips
                                 or burnt by cigarette thuds
                                          thus like a ****
                                      amid st the bean stalk
                                          they uprooted me
                                             from their lives
                                      and thawed my efforts
                                           to seek the world  
                                           after all who am i
                                                     a girl
                                                  yes a girl
                                                   a taboo....
                                               or a disgrace?
                                                 i was killed
                              murdered...in my mothers womb
                                            my blood spilled
                                            before i was born
                                            before i could see
                                         before i could breath
                                             they choked me
                                                   to death
                                                   from life
                                                    from
                                                       me ....
though female infant mortality rates have gone down in the past couple of years there a still thousands of babies who are killed before birth.......
WE WILL ALL DIE ONE DAY.....
a certainity we cant change....
not concerning  myself
with this bitter truth...
let me wish .....
to create....
something worth IT....
NOT ONLY for myself....
but for those breathing alongside me.....
which will STAY.....
LONG AFTER I LEAVE....
MY BODY CAUGHT I
yolo
LIFE is a bunch of berries......
some sweet...some sour.....
some  crushed....some pitted....
some green....some...blushing...pink....
some pearly black.....
lets gather them up......
for life looks great when served together.....
life offers variety
love is an untamed force......
when we try to control it .....
it destroys us....
when we try to imprison it it enslaves it......
when we love someone with the expectation of being loved in return its  wasted .....
LET IT BLOOM........LET IT SPREAD ITS FRAGRANCE......LETZ SIMPLY LOVE.....
ek het ware liefde                           i for true love
      my hele lewe                                   my whole life
                    gesoek                                       searched
         totdat ek ontdek                    until i discovered
                    dat die liefde                      that the love
                    moet binne in begin          must begin inside    

as jou pad onseker is                       if your path is uncertain
en jy weet nie wat jy                       and you dont know what you
wil eintlik he nie                              really want to have
dan wandel jy tussen                      then you wander between
die bosse met                                   the forests with
dorings wat jou                               thorns that
                      steek                                             *****

as jy stil sit                                       if you sit still
              en reflekteer                                         and reflect
                    sal streke van lig                               streaks of light
                            en ontdekking                                    and discovery
                                            uitskyn                                         shine out

die bosse sal tans                                the forests will still
                    daar wees                                                 be there
                    maar jy                                                     but you
                    kan die                                                      can
                    pad                                                            manage
                    bestuur                                                      the path
as jy jou hart agtervolg                       if you follow your heart
© jeannine davidoff 2011
sommige mense siele                                                          so­me people’s souls
                                          skyn van hul                                                              ­ shine out of
                                          ligame uit                                                              ­      their bodies

anders is betrap                                                     others are trapped
                  vasgevang                              ­                                                              emb­roiled

in bitter denke                                                                                      in bitter thoughts
in bitter dade                                                             ­                           in bitter deeds
opgevreet                                                  ­                                            consumed
deur        ­                                                                 ­                               by
angst                          ­                                                                 ­           anxiety
jalousie                                      ­                                                             jeal­ousy
gierigheid                                                  ­                                            greed
onsekerheid    ­                                                                 ­                     uncertainty

opgetwis                       ­                                                                 ­        twisted up
onbewus                                                       ­                                         unaware
© jeannine davidoff 2012
Argent's colour silver be
Like to the sun upon the sea
Viewed from a station on a mountain high

When the moon did rise I heaved a sigh
Even as the twilight I had endured
To see if love's longing so might not be cured

I'd waited thus upon this peak
Throughout the compass of a week
Ere I begun twas my resolve

If this my sojourn did not solve
The doubtful passion that is all pain
To let the swallowing sea be my perpetual bane

Master of Laughter, let thy dancing feet
Patter in swift and irresistible mirth
Holding their bright, melodic beat
Up before the eyes of all on earth

A crystal which maketh in all clarity
Twixt joy and pain profound disparity
Echoing day's end and night's dawn
Which though they be the same, laugh sameness to scorn
Die stroom van verlange                             The stream of longing
Vloei na die see                                             Flows to the sea
In die verste diepte                                       To the furthest depth
Van sy blou heimwee.                                  Of its blue nostalgia

Die sande wag                                               The sands lie awaiting
Vir die verre wind                                          The distant wind -
Die rotse aanskou                                           The rocks gaze on
Die spelende see.                                            The playing sea

In een oomblik                                              In one moment
Spring die vis omhoog                                 The fish leaps on high
Deur die son beskilder                                  Painted by the sun
Dan ewig dood.                                             Then dead eternally.
(following Jeannine Davidoff's example!)(in Die Oes)
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