Die ou kniee knak en kraak
en maak geraas
, maar sal sukkel-sukkel teen die rand
hou om jou te dra.
**** *** ek kriekbeen,
in die laatnag na jou vra.

My ribbes is marimbas,
uitgehonger vir die hokmaak
van 'n antieke snaardrom hart.
Wat nou met mening elke been
se noot raak slaan en hammer
asof opnuut gevorm en gespeen.

En tog die kop raas soos
basyn geskal en bomval,
want binne woed die stryd
van goed teen kwaad.
Ek speel vir jou 'n simfonie:
Die lirieke dalk af, maar tog op maat.

Ag ek's sommer simpel,
dis die liefde wat so praat...

Die velde en berge le honderde myle ver, oop tot by die horison.
Al wat ek sien is gras, klippe en bome, en drome van n lewe so vry ver in die valley, groen van reen en geen besoedeling van die besige lewe so ewe of dit al is wat ons het…
Die vlaktes bring my gedagtes na n rustigheid.
Ek kan ver sien so asof ek my lewe kan sien, die rustigheid wat dit verdien.
Ek sien die klein dingetjies raak soos die veldblomme wat blom met n glimlag dag na dag, n lady bug op die tak, die springkaan op die blaar, die miere wat trots hulle kos by mekaar maak vir swaar dae.
Doudruppels vroeg oggend net so na die sonsopkoms…
Dan voel ek dankbaar, dankbaar vir n lewe wat gegee is sonder vrae
Danbaarheid vir n Skepper van mens en natuur. 2016/01/24

Liefie, wat gaan aan met Isak?
vandat julle terug is lyk hy so bek af.
Wat het gebeur daar op die berg;
het jy hom nou weer genadeloos geterg?

Die kind lyk asof sy lip op die grond hang
en as jy hom n hoek kom, lyk hy skoon bang.
Ek **** ons moet die sielkundige bel
laat hy bietjie uitvind wat die kind knel.

Nee! se Abraham skielik baie benoud:
as Sarah moet uitvind, ril hy koud.
Later om n hoek gryp hy Isak aan sy nek
Wys vir hom die mes en se:  JY hou jou bek!

title: f-in-fat
body:
limited
function:
selfie-
hard-on        502 bypass... again: more fun than google-whacking

in English phonetics this word can almost be
conflated with: AS OF...
       i know... the F can be hardened: well...
"hardened" into a V... while the S can be put
against a mirror and made into a sort of "chiral"
Z...  
         UPA UPA genocides...
                           Ukrainians burning the Polish
flag - even digging a grave for the white eagle...
Up Ah... Up Ah... Up we go... Ah... Up we go!
ASOF that now can become... AЗOВ:
the best boy-scouts for... a long long time...
no... i wouldn't get involved in the matters of
КAЦAПЫ - so many clueless people out there...
so many... Nietzsche once mentioned that
the Polacks where the equivalent of the French
in the Slavic ethnicity...
           well... who are the Czechs, i thought they
were the French... but then again...
in his height of madness he claimed to be
a ******... so many clueless people...
                it's a bit like asking yourself the question...
what's the difference between a Serb
and a(n) Ukrainian... not much...
geographical but still the same **** sympathiser...
- i woke up today and made my mind up...
i promised myself to only read philosophy books
in my native tongue...
and i stuck true to that... Kant, Heidegger,
Kierkegaard, Spinoza, Tatarkiewicz, Voltaire...
but... i broke the rule when it came to Nietzsche...
i'm about to break the rule once more...
but, come to think of it... i already invested
my knowledge of English in this philosopher's
literary output... Nausea...
      the best months of my teenage years
were spent reading his trilogy where the protagonist
had my name: Matthieu...
    the Roads to Freedom:
Age of Reason, Iron in the Soul, the Reprieve...
now... i've had in my collection a copy of
Being and Nothingness in English for a while...
i'm tired of reading excerpts from my favourite
book (Bertrand Russell's History of Western
Philosophy) on the throne of thrones (the toilet)
so... i picked up Sartre's magnum opus
and skimmed through it... rereading the passages
i already underlined years ago...
passages about SINCERITY and BAD FAITH...
oh... wow... so relevant today...
no... i'm not going to get into the any ad hominem...
oh my my... these ideas i don't need to
dig a bilingual trench for... i can work with
these ideas directly... in English... i don't need
to subconsciously translate Kant from ******
to English... hmm... well... i do have a literary
background in Sartre... to return to his raw ideas...
this could be fun...
                    i'm guessing it will not take me 2 years
to read and meditate as it took me
when reading Hiedegger's Sein und Цeit...
yes, the time is right...
                something to counter all the moral
grand-standing virtue signalling ******* of the public...
people caught up in the world having
abandoned their truly worthwhile little almost
solipsistic lives... i mean: WORTHWHILE...
what i like about French philosophers...
they invoke... objects... Descartes used a table...
and perhaps a chair...
Sartre? he uses mirrors... and a keyhole...
i'll use mirrors and smoke...
  no need for fire...
                         that comes later...
oh... and a bicycle...
                                 it's going to be a welcome
break from all that heavy: lead... Germanic thought...
i want to take a break from meditating on
Heidegger and Kant...
some French influence will do me good...
while others... go on holiday to the Caribbean...
on cruises... and still hate themselves / hate being
there... can't relax...
   i'll drink some whiskey... scribble... doodle...
do the washing... hang it on the washing line in the garden...
go for a bicycle ride...
and change my mind... who's going to influence
me next? who am i going to become with this
person? i already mentioned this before:
it's the art of necromancy...
isn't it necromancy?! isn't it?
   reading a book by a dead person...
  not that sort of magic... not LITERALLY... but:
LITER-ALLY... em... via literature...
      read a book by a dead person: you're a necromancer...
aren't you? oh... and add and devise some
original interpretation... or a bit like...
using a fork as a knife... and a knife as a fork...
yes... spring is coming...
     i can feel it in the air...
only last night i killed my first mosquito...
    the insects are stirring... next i'll be gagging when
taking out the garbage... drowning maggots
in bleach... but that's different to...
well... my first girlfriend had this memory of...
pouring salt on snails...
   hmm... drowning maggots in bleach...
well... they're maggots... and i'm not exactly going
fishing and... i'm taking out the garbage...
i don't want the trash men to puke, either...
    then there was this one time...
back in Poland... 7 years old? maybe...
wandered off into the woods alone... then by a brook
encountered two boys playing sadist...
i inquired... so... what you're up to?
oh... we're smearing this frog with lipstick...
then we're going to set it alight...
         right... ****** off i most certainly did.