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Nat Lipstadt Aug 2013
(Inspired by and dedicated to John Edward Smallshaw, and his "Spice")


I am a summer-man,
Because I'm blessed to sit by the sea.
Let it and the other two Musketeers,
boon companions to me,
Sun and Wind,
erase my discomposure as I
reside in the Poet's Nookery.
Let them have almost
all that troubles,
but not all.

I am a summer-man.

On the bay, on the beach,
I see birth, I see death,
osprey nests, carcasses of
mussels and horseshoe *****.
This, somehow reassuring,
the cycles,
this circularity,
the tides and inevitability.

I am a summer-man.

Student of languages seasonal,
Peaches, plums, cherries, poetry
and loving Woman.^
This, the  summer alphabet-soup
of my multiple tongues.

I am a summer-man.

Sancerre and Pinot Gris, super cold,
Paul Simon, Nina Simone,
with proper aging,
getting  hotter,
Salsa and Afrikaner hints,
super louder,
Even "Still Crazy After All These Years,"
that-who-wud-be-me,
chills outer.^^

I am a summer-man.

When ever this lad's writes appear,
it proves once again,
there is no truth that his  
name was once Dr. Seuss
In a prior life, even if
each is signed by
Ogdiddy Nash


I am a summer-man.

Disrespectful of the calendar,
if I can, try to make
summer season stretch-marks from
May to October.

I would add April,
but the IRS is already
****** at me.^^^

Though the cherry blossoms of May
now gone away,
the lilies of June
arrive, but but for a week or two,
soon, like my mom, withered away.

Acorns in August^^^^ have arrived too swiftly.


This summer, beloved,
and love of summer,
deep-rooted.

Season of my Peter Pan Poetry Galore Festival.

A love,  incapable, impossible, of ever
growing old, ever growing cold,
it cannot wither.
It is summer heat reminders exposed,
how it misses its man,
that hide in the flames of
the teasing, popping, reminding
Winter fireplace's crackling popping
^ See "The Summer Alphabet of Woman (I Speak Woman)"
August 23 2013

lipstadt-man

^^ See "Made the bed backwards"
August 24 2013

^^^  See "Caesar Has No Authority Over The Grammarians"
August 22 2013

^^^^ See "* Acorns in August (Sonata for Summer Cello and Fall Piano, No. 3)" August 19 2013

——————

* Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel

April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again

June, she´ll change her tune,
In restless walks she´ll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight.

August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I´ll remember.
A love once new has now grown old

————
Tonya Maria

Tonya Maria  I am a summer-woman,
Because I'm blessed to sit by the sea.
I too display the summer season stretch marks.....
The sea, my lover, owns every inch of me......
JeanlBouwer Oct 2010
Met boeke vol helde, soos ek en jy
Potgieter, Trichardt, Smuts, Kruger selfs De LaRey
Almal met die doel, om hul volk te bevry,
Die Afrikaner, uit te brei
Om hul families, van leiding te bevry

Selfs, De LaRey
‘n Lafhart, wou eers nie beklei
Later die held, wat die boere, verder wou lei
Familie man, vader seun broer en gesant

Ja, die mense was ook bang
Maar met passie,
Met drang
Met dit wat slange vang
Het hulle als aangevang

Kyk na jou vriend
Kyk na jou maat
Kyk na die, anderkant die straat
Dis jy, wat hul toekoms baat
Dis jy, wat hul vereen, ou maat

Die Afrikaners, was plesierig
Dit, kan julle glo
Nou gevul, net met gierig
En al hul misnoe
Ja, dit kan julle glo

Waar is ons eendrag
Waar is ons mag
Waar is die dae, toe ons nog lekker kon lag
Waar is ons helde, van vandag

‘n Held, in elkeen wat die taal verstaan
Elkeen, wat n weg vir Afrikaans wil baan
Elk, wat sy man wil staan
vir die taal, wat min verstaan
‘n Kultuur, wat net ons verstaan

‘n Kultuur, so ryk aan helde soos ek en jy
Helde, wat die Afrikaner wil bevry
Helde, wat nie bang is om te baklei
Helde, soos ek en jy!
Madeysin Jun 2015
I broke the back door, with my thumb nail of course. I forgot that you like slaming it everynight, my pain brings you pleasure. The pholicules just turn purple and peel off anyway. Another shade of pink, & a house without doors would be nice.
My snapchat is Madisonparis if anyone wants to chat
100 jaar herrinering
100 mense ween
100 trane val daar
100 druppels reen
van die hemel heen

Dankie vir die reen o God
die plase was so droog
die kommer word nou weggespoel
uit talle boer se oog



oor droewe grond
wat kraak en bars
streel helend hand
loop water vars

oor die mielies, koring
en oor goue hawermout
dans in die wind die jongeling
en skyn opnuut wee goud

die Here het geantwoord
oor wenige gebed
bewys van vooraf weereens
al genade wat hy het

maar wolke breuk, strome spoel
die grond word weer genees
maar spokend, kaal en lenig
sal die kerk weer Sondag wees

onthou jy jou gelofte
my Afrikaner kind
wat nou soos na dood siektes
voor die oe ontbind

**** my woord op nuut
oor die heuwels sal dit reis
tot my volk gaan terugkeer
sal opbrengs , soos geloof,
deur droogtes vergreis
Dark n Beautiful Jul 2015
My true Afrikaner name is Asogwa Oluchi
a Queen of all Queens, a lioness amongst the poets,
your highness is reckoned amongst the fiercest of them all

I always keep away from those who try to belittle your ambitions.
Small people always do that, but the really great make you believe
that you too can become great.”


Love but not in love, I smile but  it isn’t happy smile
I just can't control my feet, so I dance into the wee hours of the morning
To the African beats, night drums, while my hips sway to Tovares
A poet with an ambition, her roar is louder than thunder
she shake her sword at the moon
I was forced to speak their language,
now they want to steal my power, energy and soul,
But my ancestral spirit shield me from my oppressors
Strong, brave, fearless and determined is the heart of this lioness

— The End —