"dae" poems
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!
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 2:36 AM UTC
Dae ibig sabihon
na tuninong
dae na maogma.
Dae ibig sabihon
na itom,
demonyo ka na.
Dae ibig sabihon na
habo mo sa tao,
mayo ka ng kwenta.
Kung dae mo siya
maintindihan,
respetohan mo
an desisyon niya.
Dae mo pwersahon
an sadiri mo
sa sarong tao.
Ako an tao
na mas gustong
hilingon an kinaban
sa mata kan taong
nasasabatan ko,
arog kan pagabot mo,
yaon ka nanaman
pinapagirumdum sako
na an buhay kan tao
halipot lang.
An duros na hali
sa langit pasiring
sa itom na háwak
asin nagsasakop sa
palibot kan kandila,
An makakan hanggan
sa madiklom
an palibot.
Hanggan sa pagpikit.
Tuninong na boses,
Magian na háwak,
Matagas na boot,
Magayon na numero,
asin kanta na dae
mo mapugolan itao
saimo kan mánlaén-láen
na tao.
Hanggang sa maghinghíng
saimo an kinaban nin:
"Maogmáng Compleaño, Ermano!"
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 10:43 AM UTC
Kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpadangat kan búlan.
Dae niya hinahâbon an banggí,
Pinapaluwas niya an gayón kan diklóm.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpadángat kan urán.
Dae niya binabasa an háwak,
Nililinigan niya lang an atî kan kalág ta.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpadángat kan duros.
Dae siya nawáwarâ,
Pinaparahay niya an satuyang sadkíri sa kada paghángos ta.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpagdángat kan saldáng.
Dae ka susulô sa kaláyo na tinatao niya,
An sulô na hali saiya an mapagayón kan agihan.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpagdángat kan bitóon.
Bako lang kintab an dara,
Pinapagirumduman kita na maski
an kagadánan kayang pagsuwáyonan duwang puso.
Asin kun síring,
ika mamoót
Mamoót bako lang bilang parte,
kundi arog kan bílog na kinâban.
Mamoót ka arog kan bílog na kinâban.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 12:29 AM UTC
Kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpadangat kan búlan.
Dae niya hinahâbon an banggí,
Pinapaluwas niya an gayón kan diklóm.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpadángat kan urán.
Dae niya binabasa an háwak,
Nililinigan niya lang an atî kan kalág ta.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpadángat kan duros.
Dae siya nawáwarâ,
Pinaparahay niya an satuyang sadkíri sa kada paghángos ta.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpagdángat kan saldáng.
Dae ka susulô sa kaláyo na tinatao niya,
An sulô na hali saiya an mapagayón kan agihan.
Asin kun ika mamoót,
Mamoót arog kan pagpagdángat kan bitóon.
Bako lang kintab an dara,
Pinapagirumduman kita na maski
an kagadánan kayang pagsuwáyonan duwang puso.
Asin kun síring,
ika mamoót
Mamoót bako lang bilang parte,
kundi arog kan bílog na kinâban.
Mamoót ka arog kan bílog na kinâban.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
Sa minasunod na aldaw
hanggang sa huring aldaw kan taon
Asahan nindong yaon an Kaniguan
para damayan kamo.
Maguran man, bumagyo, igwang problema sa ido,
naloko ka kan sarong tao o binayaan ka man kan ka-ilusyon mo.
Magrani lang sako—Maimbong na kugos an mareresibe mo.
Magrani lang sako—Madangog sa kun ano man pinagaagihan mo.
Magrani lang sako alagad dae ko ika babasolon,
pagulayan ta kun tano, sain o ano an nangyari.
Yaon ako kun gusto **** barkada,
tugang, ama o ina na madamay saimo,
bako lang ninong ta baka dae ako makaiba.
Papakolon taka kun dae mo nahihiling an sala mo,
pero papaogmahon taka maski dae mo nahihiling an sala mo.
Sabay tang pagulayan gabos na tama mo,
pati si crush na grabe an tama saimo
Magiging maogma ako sa gabos na tamang desisyon mo,
maski sala an paglakaw mo magiging maogma man
giraray ako, ta aram ko makakanuod ka.
Mataong direksyon na pwede **** sundon
kun nawawaran ka na nin pag-asa.
Aram ko Bikolano ka, an Bikolan Oragon,
matagas an ano, an puso saka an buot
dae basta basta minasuko sa laban.
Hanggang yaon kamo o maski mayo na kamo
Dae kamo basta basta mawawara sa puso ko.
Salamat sa pinagagihan ta kang nakaaging taon
alagad salamat man giraray para sa magigin
iribahan, surubahan, kulitan, urulnakan, ngirisihan
istoryahan ta ngunyan na taon. Padagos an Pagkamoot!
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC
Para máhiling ninda an liwanag mo,
dapat kang magrayô,
ta garó ka saldáng; Pag haraníhon ka,
nakakabutá an dara **** liwanag.
Pero hiling-hiling ka sa harayô.
Nakukua man ninda giraray an liwanag mo,
pero an pag-apresyar kan presenya mo
iba sa pag-hiling kang eksistensya mo.
Kun dae ninda ma-apresyar
an presensya mo,
nungka ninda mahihiling
an pagkawarâ mo.
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 9:14 AM UTC
Jare van hartseer, jare van pyn.
Eendag sal dit verdwyn en die lewe sal wees ja, makliker om te leef.
Dag vir dag stap ons deur die woude van gedagtes en *** ons dan herrinder word deur die vlaktes van daai gedagtes.
Dan onthou ons die goeie ou dae van vreugde en menigte liefde en so verander ons dag na dag ons lewens van hartseer vlaktes na wonderlike gedagtes. 2016/01/05
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
I'm just back frae The Kirk
Doon Canongate way,
Afore yi get tae Parliament,
That was brand new yesterday,
Way back tae the 1700's
A poet in his grave,
Fergusson the poetry man,
He couldnae be saved,
Banging his heid in a fa'
Tumbling doon a' the steps,
Hadnae sterted livin' yet,
His poetry had some depth,
Rab trained as a minister,
He abandoned fir poetry,
At the age of twenty two,
With no heart for the ministry,
He took a job as a copyist,
Tae earn a crust tae live,
Probably hated it,
So much poetry for tae give,
If he wis alive the today,
He'd be pertying in Ibiza,
DJing wi' the discs,
Rapping like a geeza,
He was only 24,
At Cape Club he'd dae a gig,
I'm sure he enjoyed himsel',
It's something that he did,
After the fa',
Darkly melancholic,
Depression followed,
He wisnea an alcoholic,
Straight to Edina's loony bin,
Then ca'd Darien House,
On Bristo Street used to stand,
Can't think what'd be worse,
He was born in 1750,
Died penniless in '74
Unmarked grave in Canongate,
Nae headstane was in store,
Many years later,
Head stane was selected,
Rabbie Burns inspired,
Was paid fir an' erected,
The date upon the stane was wrong,
Hopefully wis being changed,
By Robert Louis Stevenson,
But died before old age,
Grave is now restored,
Tae it's former glory,
Ironwork and stane cleaned,
But it's no the end o' story,
A statue wis erected,
On the street ootside the Kirk,
The way they positioned him,
He's on his way tae work,
You'll see the Parliament building,
If you wander doon the road,
Poems and poetry on the wa's
But none in Fergusson mode,
It seems he's been forgotten,
In this day and age,
Someone with his talent,
Wan o' Edina's greatest sage,
Let's hope we'll see his poetry,
On Scotland's parliament wa,
I dinae mean graffiti,
I mean poetry fir a'.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
Ah wuz lookin oot o' mah winder and ah saw this lad
wi' a barry wee lassie gaun' up the hill.
-Wair the **** d'ye think you're gaun tae? ah yells oot.
But the daft ***** didnae answer at aww,
must've been oot o' thir ****** heids wi' E's or summat,
d'ye ken what ah'm tellin' ye,ye daft radge?
-Wair ye're ******* going? ah yells a couple mair times
and finally the gadge yells back to ays,
-Up the ******* hill tae fetch a pail o' ******* watter,
me Ma's hud her fuckin' taps turned oaf by the fuckin' Corporation,
which is a ******* pain in the erse ah had ter agree.
I realised ah knew the wee **** Jack but,
eh wuz an auld classmate of ays and eh's hung oot wi' ma brar n me,
when we wuz bairns oan the Scheme,eh?
-That's a bonny wee lassie ye've goat wi' ye, there Jack, ah yelled,
thinking ah'd nae kick her oot o' mah scratcher
withoot gi'ing her a guid ride.
Ah huvtae sey ah recognised hir as a wee ****
called Jill from the Scheme, a right tidy wee ride
in mah opinion wi' a guid little ***** on hir, as ah recall.
-Mind ye're own fuckin' business, the **** yells back at ays,
takin' the pail in yin hand and the hoor's wee hand in the other yin.
Ah can tell ye ah totally pished meself wi' laughter
when the pair o' they wide ***** fell doon,
Jack breakin' his fuckin' croon n the groond,
ah'm sure he nivver meant it tae happen,
'n eh mustae squashed his ******* bawws
as eh fell doon n aww from the wey he screamed oot,
but the wee lassie cam tumbling doon the ****** hill n aww,
heid n **** oor her fuckin' erse
'n ah could see she wasnae wearin' any ****** *******
'n her ***** was on display under her skirt.
Ah wouldnae expect anything else from a wee hoor,eh?
-Dinnae worry, ah'll com and help ye, ah called oot,
but when ah goat thir, both o them wis deid,
ah thoat o' gittin mah hole wi' the deid lassie n aww,
but you shouldnae dae that, it's no respectful tae wimmin,
'n eywis, the polis might trace me through the DNA,
those ***** are clivvir 'n aw, ye ken.
So ah contented mesel' wi' rummidging through the poakits
o' the lad's jaykit tae see if eh hud ehs payment from the Joab Centre,
but the daft **** mustae spent it aww on a boatil or two o Grants,
ah ken ah'd hae done the same mahsel'.
And there wasnae a penny in the lassie's purse,
so ah thoat ah'd jus' **** oaf doon the ******
'n ask some **** tae call the hoaspital and the ****** polis.
Eh?
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
Jy hou van die manier waarop sy jou naam troosvol uitgespreek het na 'n swaar dag wat jy gehad het.
Jy is lief vir *** sy jou bekommernis verlig met elke woord wat sy sê dat jy nie presies kan vind *** sy daarin slaag om dinge wat jy nie kan uitdruk nie, uit te druk.
Jy hou van *** haar teenwoordigheid jou op jou reënerige dae troos en warmte gee.
Jy hou van haar klappergeur wat in jou kar hang nadat sy saam jou iewers heen gery het.
Jy hou daarvan om die geluid van haar lag te **** wat die leegheid van jou wêreld vul, soos simfonie jou uit die leemte haal.
Jy is lief vir *** sy gedigte geskryf het wat jy altyd weggevoer het, *** hulle gewys het hoeveel sy jou liefgehad het.
Jy hou van die manier *** haar klein vingers met joune verbind is, *** dit jou laat voel het dat jy die is wêreld waarna sy draai.
Jy is lief vir *** hierdie woorde die helderheid van die sterre diffundeer en *** hulle in die konstellasies hierbo vervang.
Jy hou van die manier waarop sy haar lippe saggies die besonderhede van jou gesig spoor soos 'n veer wat sy tydelik in die golwe van die wind laat dryf.
Jy hou van die geluid van elke strook van die potlood wat sy gemaak het toe sy die kruiswoorde wat jy op jou tafel gelos het, opgelos het, en besef dat dit nooit reg was nie, maar om na haar te kyk, was 'n antwoord self.
Jy is lief vir *** sy alles vir jou gemaak het, so erg dat dit jou laat verdrink het.
Jy is lief vir die idee van liefde wat hierin gevorm word.
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 5:11 AM UTC
Hope!
In the far off land of Dae-han-min-guk, on a brand new day.
An angel's fingers dance and prance on the ivories.,
So confident the way she plays.
Like magic! Sending the gift of music to me flying though time and space.,
The music flowed out of the piano like birds singing good morning new day,
Amazingly!
Thousands of piano notes,
Filled with elegance and charm travel to my ears.,
This angel sent to me a gift of hope today.,
I have never heard or seen such a wondrous thing,
I must be traveling through a beautiful dream...
© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
finally na jare se rusteloosheid
jare van verlore wees, rond soek na my
elke avenue na jaag, opskop en my kniee numb pleit
het ek my vrede om jou om my gekry
my en jou se safe place
weg van al die jare s elies en disgrace
ek vat my dae een vir een soos ek kans sien
en dit sal n lieg proe as ek nie se my verlange le diep
het altyd gedink as ek beter was sou ek jou verdien
maar ek was te naief, te jonk, te blind
het myself my gevoelnes verbied
ek was moeg vir wag, die seer, die verwyt
moeg vir die fluister van trane oor my wange en die verlange
ek wou nie die weggeooi meer wees, wou jou weg smyt
bang vir alleen wees, wou nie die faulty een wees, bang
ek het vir ons ons eie soace create
n safe place waar nie ek of jy mekaar ooit weer kan forsake
ek hoef jou nooit weer te soek want ek weet waar jy gaan wees
finally you can help chase away my fears
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
ek staar dae lank na n lee wit muur
binne my brand als soos vuur
in eensaamheid word ek toegevou
buite kou die druppels dou
die laaste uur voel ek so koud
voel so amper amper oud
al die dinge wat my pla
dra ek diep, dit volg my na
ek kou en herkou
my tong so amper flou
steeds ***** jy naby my
en ek kan jou net nie kry
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
Aye think o this
When winter breezes blaws aroun'
whare silent thochts are filled wae gloom
and drifting words,they echo past
frae fearful man an fearful lass
In haunted hooses and misty lans
whare Ghosties an gobblins an unco bans
Pass atween this an theirs, that form
amidst tha thunders crashing storm.
Aye tucked up aroun yeer mithers apron
wae teeth a nashing an voices wailing
Fine ye ken this unhaly nicht
tis filled wae all unGodly licht
Craw tha Banshee frae tha Ben
like howlet song throughoot tha Glen.
Satan, Auld horney casts his lots
for innocent bairnies fresh frae their cots
An' ancient stories there arise an fly
Like shooting stars that fill tha sky
for here in tales tha croonies dae rattle
in haunting airs and fiendish battle
leagons arise tae tha masters calling
This nicht hell awakens, aahhh tha heevens are falling.
Here in blackened darkened skies
whare lichtning flashes weaves an cries
An mortal man fears fa his soul
against that heelish burning coal
Ministers intae their beds are fleeing
wae ranting verses fa all their Dealing.
Whare auld worn hags an witches cast
upon tha waters that blaw an blast
drooning mony tha ship an sailor
all fa tha glory O their Demonic tailor
when cauldrens stir in bubbling brews
An damnation demands its richtful dues
tha lan' it heaves and haws
devouring all within its jaws
A Blood red Moon casts her lot
whare evil men have Died an fought
tha Earth auld an worn frae tribulation
demands the blood of every nation.
Here within the fields o life
brither against brither in war an strife
hae released all this fiendish nightmare
fa all their guilt,fa all they share
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 8:05 AM UTC
I walk across
to Hannah's flat
in Arrol House
and knock at the door
Mrs Scott opens
the door and stands there
she's a short thin woman
with a face of granite
with a slit
where her mouth is
whit is it?
she says
her Scottish accent
rough as stone
is Hannah home?
I ask
I dunnae kinn
she replies
HANNAH
she bellows
over her shoulder
Benedcit is haur fur ye
she adds
scowling at me
jist coming
Hannah replies
from back in the flat
yoo'll hae tae bide
Mrs Scott says
and walks back inside
leaving me
on the red tiled step
I look into the interior
of the flat
and smell breakfast
having been cooked
I look back
into the Square
kids are playing
near by
on the pram sheds
and over by the wall
girls are doing handstands
their feet
against the wall
dresses falling
over their heads
showing underwear
sorry about Mum
she has a mouth on her
Hannah says
where we going?
she asks
thought we'd go
to the South Bank
see the Thames and boats
and have ice cream
I say
do I need money?
she asks
just about 2/-
I say
for bus fares
and ice cream
I'll ask Mum
for a handout
but wait for the answer
Mum have you 2/-
I can have?
Hannah asks
fa dae ye hink
Ah am Rockerfeller?
nae Ah huvnae
her mother replies
no problem
I say to Hannah
I'll have enough
for us both
are you sure?
yes don't aggravate
your mother more
than you have to
so Hannah gets her coat
and we walk off
through the Square
she's like that sometimes
Hannah says
she's as tight
as a wing nut
we walk down the slope
and up Meadow Row
I ask her how her father is
she says
he's Ok but in
the doghouse more often
as not with Mum
but he's a softy
to Mum's hardness
but Mum says
he's soft in the heed
but he's lovely really
Hannah says
-I know her old man
he's English and a bit
simple after helping
to empty out Belsen camp
in 1945 where some
he told me were
more dead as alive-
we wait at the bus stop
she with her dark hair
pony tailed
with a tartan skirt
and white blouse
and me in blue jeans
and white shirt
and quiff of brown hair
and hazel eyes
she with a budding beauty
with her mother's
touch of tongue
who if roused
could give words
full lung.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
An istorya na naisurat ngunyan
asin an istorya na nakrear kasuhapon
asin an istorya manungod
sa kun paano hanapon an sadiri,
kun pano pandangaton
an kada ritmo na kasabay
sa dalan kan buhay.
Iyo an istorya na
dae ko pagsasawaang iistorya.
Ini an istoryang dae kompleto,
sa likod kan mga tula,
kanta na naisurat,
Gabos ito para parahayon an sadiri. Hangga't yaon an kaniguan
dae matatapos an istorya
sa tula na sakuyang pinoonan,
araaldaw akong masurat
para tahuban an mga
piklat sa hawak,
an mga bukas na agihan
sa hawak ko.
Hangga't igwang pagkamoot
padagos an tula na pinoonan ko.
Kun gusto nindong maaraman
an istorya, mahahanap nindo ito
sa mga tula asin kantang naisurat ko.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
I am so old, As old as the Eastern sea,
My second Home Daehan Min-guk...You are
so far away in years and miles.
I try and try to learn to speak my ancestor's
tongue. I fail to hear you say, please come to me!
Why can't I just travel to meet my home,
Of my past. Where I belong!
Why was I cursed to be born?
In the wrong place and time.
I am so old, As old as the Eastern sea,
My broken heart
Is stopping me from
Holding you in my arms,
From touching you
From kissing you.
I am so old, As old as the Eastern sea,
My Korea!
Should I just die,
and hope!
My next life will bring me back home,
Back into your arms where I belong,
I miss you so much!
I would rather be a poor farmer,
In the land of Dae Han Min-guk....
Then a lonely old man in
Living in this land far to the West...
I dream of you every night,
I love you Korea...
Should I just take a chance
of flying to my home of my past.
Will it be worth being buried
at Yanghwajin,
Just, to see,
the face of my Seoul?
I am so old, as old as the Eastern sea,
My love Korea...
What should I do?
(c) 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
Daar's 'n droogte in Namakwaland
Daar's 'n droogte by die see
Droogte skeil in Weste-winde
Wat oor ons mense vee
En as ons in ons diepstes
met ons gewete oorleg pleeg
merk ons ook die droogte
wat deur ons jeug beweeg
Geen meer: "jammer oom"; dis als net jy en jou
Weg -die dae van asseblief; dis "gee dit vir my nou"
Vergeet die ring, dis uit my ding, niks gewag totdat jy trou
dis oopmondkou , dis sharrap nou, 'n treurspel om te aanskou
en ek as buitestander, van die leuens en van die leed
ek kan rus met die wete, daar is 'n tent vir my gereed
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Whoa.
See that yin?
Jist sittin there?
Ye ken how she’s sittin like that, don’t ye?
Well, whit’s she sittin oan?
Aye, her erse.
She’s only sittin like that
So ye ken she’s got an erse.
Gaggin fir it.
An whoa, check that yin!
Wearin claes!
Filthy cow!
Whit dae ye mean, “Whit dae ah mean”?
Claes!
Ye canny wear claes
If ye huvny got a boady, can ye?
That’s right –
Just screamin it, so she is –
“Check oot ma boady!”
Aye, ah wull an aw!
Don’t mind if ah dae!
Aw, mate – that yin!
That yin ower there!
Bendin her airm!
See her?
Bendin her airm like a mucky ****
That’s so ye ken
She’s got elbows!
Phwoar, I ken your type hen –
you wi yir elbows an a’thin!
Desperate fur it, aren’t ye?
An man! This yin,
walkin towards us!
Breathin in an oot!
Whit a slapper!
Breathin in an oot!
Aye, ye need a pair o lungs tae dae that,
I bet, eh, hen?
A pair o fine, functioning lungs!
Aye, you use them, doll –
dinny you be shy!
Ah’m no!
Aw pal, haud me back!
This yin!
This yin eatin a meat pie!
Shameless wee ****
Aw yeah, baby,
I ken whit that means!
Mean’s ye’ve got yirsel
a **** wee digestive tract in there, no?
Ye dinny hae tae spell it oot tae me, love!
Probably got a pair o kidneys
tucked away in there too,
ye ***** wee *****
Aw the same, ur they no?
Aw ae thum.
Gantin oan it.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
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.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:45 AM UTC
Vat ń slukkie verdriet
En ontnugter jou verstand
Tot dit niks meer
As net ń spookdorp is
Wat tolbos oor
Jou silwerdoek-lewe nie
Jy voed op energie
, maar in ń moeë wêreld
Teer jy jouself uit
Totdat honger straatkinders
Jou ribbes speel
soos marimbas
Vir net ń laaste trek.
Dalk is vandag
Net een van dáárdie dae
, waar jy my sou red
En jou skouers
my vertroosting sou wees-
Jou lippe my spiersalf
Vir ń hart wat seer
geklop is.
Een van daardie dae
, maar jy is nog een van
Dáárdie mense...
Een van mý dae...
Iets wat jy nie is nie-
Myne
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
geselsies oor stomende boere troos
kombuis warm gekuier
stemme weerkaats sagkens van mure
my verlore jong meisie dae
as ek maar kon weet
woorde aan die wind
wys en syd versprei
soos die skerwe van my hart
onherroepbaar weg , stof bedek
die inuitputbare gemis
geen ander skaduwee kan begryp
tyd heel niks
jy leer leef in leemte en skerwes
huis met krake en gebreuke
tot als in tuimel
soet versoening
tot dan
siels kreute, hallelujah
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:24 AM UTC
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
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC
You can call me Po-dae
if you’re Korean…
hic! – you got every right to mispronounce it if you aren’t;
and the Japanese might call me – hic! –
Hotei…hic! hic!
And of course those ancient Indians
in their radiant romantic way might call me Laxmi
(but then they’re too reverent, those Indians
and you can’t joke about any these days)
but me – hic! hic! – hey call me Po-dae
and yes, the more erudite of you might know
or the Indians out here would have guessed by association –
HIC! HIC!
yep- I’m the good god of fortune, ancient drunkard!
(That guy who wrote “The Richest Man in Babylon”
he asks you to court the Goddess of Fortune –
Silly ****** He doesn’t know Goddesses don’t drink, does he?
Ah, well modern *** Goddesses might smoke and drink,
and all that) -
but hey, I’m Po-dae - HIC ! HIC! – fill up that cup and invite me in
and I’ll give five or six tips to fatten your wallets
better than the ones that American God
George S. Clason throws at you
(Pay Yourself First, and all that miserly pedestrian living)
But fill my cup, dear – and I’ll show you how to fill your wallet –
HIC! HIC! HIC!
Oh ** ** ** yum – where do you get this stuff…?
These modern drinks really drive me crazy, baby!
Hey, hey, hey –
I’m Po-dae
and for watering me, baby
I’ll tell you the dao of fortune:
I come drunk
and I never move straight
and I walk side and side
Oh baby, I’m Po-dae
your miserly elusive fortune!
HIC! HIC! HIC!
Prrrrrrttttt…..!
Sorry about that, guys –
once in a while I also make wind!
Hic! Hic! Hic!
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 8:08 PM UTC