Childhood notions transmigrate,
as seconds increases time's height.
The manly instincts begin to prevail,
as I spread my wings toward Adulthood.

The man I want to be is a man who conquers defeat.
Beaten but not broken,
defeated but not limited.
Rising above the dreary shadows will serve as light for all who come behind.

The man I want to be is a relentless dreamer,
whose mental eyes envision spring from summer.
The man I want to be is an accurate planner,
Whose calculations provide food in famine.

The man I want to be is an epitome of discipline
Who rises up every morning to derive a schedule for the day.
The man I want to be is a workaholic
Who works tirelessly till evening and drive home to the hands of firm embrace.

The man I want to be is a man of wealth
Whose worth is not measured by the money he possesses but his contribution to humanity.
The man I want to be is a man of value whose judgement cannot be impaired by money.

The man I want to be is a strong man
whose strength is not in the size of his arms but the elasticity of his ideas.
The man I want to be is a strong man who hides a million feeling under a smile.

The man I want to be is a just man
who respects every man's opinion with equity regardless of religion and ethnicity.
The man I want to be is a tough man whose conviction will not be eroded by people's opinion.

The man I want to be is a father to the fatherless and a defense to the voiceless,
whose ears will always be opened to the pleas of the deprived.

The man I want to be is a man of varlour
Who shapens his life and the lives of those around him on his knees.



The man I want to be is you Dad

Strings sting
Sticking feelings on eternities billboard
All roads leading to the altar
For comemoration of a promise made in thick and fulfilled when the chances looked slim.

'Can't be together'
Some said.
but forever didn't bother.
Cos fate had drawn the borders
knowing we were meant for each other.

How did we become lovers?
I need not know
Why u chose to wait
is still a source of debate

Carpets fell to the floor
Wow!they are red
Threadless needle
sew our hearts
as we exchanged vows crisply

Nuptial cords
soothing like piano chords
Hearty jingles
escaping from your dimples
Exchanging smiles
Cos now I can finally say you are 'mine.'

If I were you
You would be me
I don't need you
French says we are 'une'.
We have loved each other from our early teens
but each morning our love takes a new theme.

Heaven stunned by earth
Angels admiring lovebirds
Cos though we bound by eternal strings
We don't wish to be free
Confined in the cell:
You is me and I is you.

i was disconnected from your umbrella,
as we strolled
like organist thumbs akimbo
over octaves of impenetrable silences
that lay as shells at our feet, unperturbed.
your free hand, bound to mine.
enslaved to the pendulum
of our quietous
tandem.

we note the long shadows swaying in the corona of emerging contrasts... we go arm in arm now...inhaling the fumes
of our unspoken truce. reveling in the sanctity of our bond
without losing a thread in our poncho
to a snag in the deluge.... or raindrop teeth.

we continue in our way.
conjoined in our congenial orbits.
disrobed from the
inside-out.
two columns of mute serenity...
stalled where the bridge
and the railing; conspire to frame the stream below
with the moment of our pregnant
pause.
as seen from ground zero in a cataract
of awe and epiphany.

the mist from stones dashing about like trout
draping our skin in flecks of Indra and glass spider eyes
laughing at all our jokes, before the punchline
finds your Abbot
to Costello.

we are drenched in a thousand specks of mirror.
with tide pools in our crows'feet... and all
the continuum of glory...

the unvarnished fathoms of our symbiosis
and the dignity of our invulnerable
Haj to the Mecca of our Peace.

II

i was disconnected from your umbrella
as you never believed in -
having one.

so i embrace precipitation
with all the ****** delight
of a pagan in the company
of His oracle.

your antlers
shedding skin
and divine.

my spirit
dwelling
in a
jar

full of fireflies.
for true.

we serve no dark when we embrace
and nothing cruel can stay. we are too alive to be beleaguered
by the horde of narrow minds, and cast out almighty odds
against; to gather up our perfect days, wallowing -
in the chasm of our bliss... entangled in soft moans
and well spent.

mending the snow
has now become knitting white
to frost
as lost kingdoms navigate
from their obscurity -
hosting the hours of our doom
to decades of joy and inertia ...
even as you really love someone
on purpose... you forget
someone.

and all
is come undone !
from a kernel of honey
as ever was.
barking madly at false gods, while -
nipping at the heel of
Unhealing wounds...

all  havoc and have at It
where the true wrong
believes You.

a sting of happiness
dashed against the stubborn
fuss of tossed rocks.
the milk of shadow....
clawing at the way you forget
a glowing medallion
of aching wisdom

And henpecked stars  Henpecked.

a clutch of hit squad horseshoes, lucky in the dark.

the blue navel of a certain monotony
that jibes with your Apologies...
and a long Pause

A Lost -
Art
Founding the Church
of a Lost
Cause

and every Wednesday in a Box
of course.

hurrah !

we are the ancient ones
rooted in the earth
heads rustling in the sky
moss growing on our trunks
on our limbs

conductors of our pulse
over this distance
this faraway
closeness

and should they fell you
I shall feed you honey
from our underground network
should you not sprout again
I shall build a hive in your trunk
buzzing with life
and should the hive desert you
leave you petrified
I shall unfurl beneath you
cradling your vintage pages

skuld
skuld
skuldenaar

dit suis vanaand
in tolbos tale
rond-en-wind-ge-foeter
oor ‘n dor doer pad
‘n uitgestrekte stoftong
lek geraamtes
tot aan die silwer koppies
in die Klein Karoo se maan

skuld
skuld
skuld–in–aar

is Ma ‘n vreemdeling
wat staan en tee drink
in ‘n ander vrou
se blou kombuis

skuld
skuld
skuld–in–haar

al starend na die krake
weerspieël die vensterglas
‘n aarde broos
verbrokkel

maar

die reën sal kom
my kind
die reën sal kom
profeteer die roes–rooi wolke

al loeiend in die wind

sal Ma staan
onmiskenbaar
soos ongetemde buffelsgras
gewortel en gegrond

(rough translation)*

debt
debt
debtor

tonight it howls
in tumbleweed tongues
beaten about and windblown
over a barren, over-there road
a dust-tongue stretches
licking skeletons
all the way to feet of the silver hills
that lie in the moon of the Little Karoo

debt
debt
debt in vein

Mother is a stranger
just standing there and sipping tea
in another woman’s blue kitchen

debt
debt
debt in her

all staring at the cracks
reflecting on the windowpane
the fragile earth’s
dismembered

but

the rain will come
my child
the rain will come
prophesy the rust-red clouds

all bellowing in the wind

Mother will stand
unequivocal
as untamed buffalo grass --
rooted and valid