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gurthbruins Apr 2012
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)
Lucien Freeman May 2012
My Love. I can only hope that this writing may help you understand my craziness.
I love  you.

Sometime ago while you were away and the thought of ever being with you was put away, I was happily in a
relationship. One that I thought was going pretty well. She was attractive in her own right, smart with ambition, aspiration, she liked my friends and family and they liked her also. We went to classes together, lived in the same complex and saw each other often.

Life was going great. We even spent the night at each others places, rotating here and there. Though she did move a bit too quick for me, in that she wanted to get married. I thought the idea of that was all too sudden and that we should wait on that. I was uncomfortable with it but thought to only give it a few years. She partied with us, got smashed with us and during some of our parties guys would hit on her and I would have to tell them off. Some even tried to fight and I hit guys and fought for her. Even some of my good friends confessed to "slapping her ***" noting that it was inappropriate and wrong of them to do so and willingly requested me to hit them in return. And i did. That's how things were and still are.

Though this was all before you, you were still in my thoughts. She and I socialized a lot by hanging out with lots of friends and went to all kinds of parties. Even though I've never been the "party type", I went for her and for my friends. On a whim, we went to a tattoo and piercing place where she got a tattoo and talked me into getting a piercing. I no longer have the piercing but a scar remains and I look up it and question...why the hell...

She hung out with people outside of us. Either from school or work. I never thought anything of it. It never occurred to me that I should be a bit concerned. I trusted her completely. Then one night while my roommates and i were hosting a party she wasn't there. She was in Franklin watching the new twilight film at the Theaters.
While i stepped outside to smoke and just as I was lighting my cigarette, one of my friends stepped outside also. He lit one up also and asked if we could speak. I said "sure whats up?" He said that he hopes that I respect him just as much as he respects me and asks that I don't get angry at him. "Of course", I said, even more curious and confused than I was before. With his cigarette in one hand he grabbed my shoulder with the other, looked me deep in the eyes and said. "what if I told you she wasn't at the Theaters watching the film? What if I told you she was seeing someone else?"

I told him that I respect him and that he's trying to look after me and for that I thank him. But I told him that I can't believe him and must doubt him, even though he has it on good authority she is cheating. Soon thereafter I began to notice a change in her that I didn't see before. The thought of what he told me, slowly eating at me and breaking me down.

Then while at work on Christmas Eve I received a text from her saying that we could no longer be together. I asked why and she tried everything to make me believe that she wasn't ready for a relationship. But nothing she was saying to persuade me was lining up. She finally confessed, confirming my every fear. She had been cheating on me...for months. Driving the knife deeper into me and worse more, she didn't care. She felt no remorse. My world was shattered. I had so much trust in her I felt like a fool at that moment, remembering what my friend had told me. I should have believed him there. I could hardly breathe, I felt weak, torn and vulnerable. I have not spoken to her since that day. I never will.

Soon after that, I hung out with the friend who had warned me of the impending doom that I chose to ignore. I apologized to him face to face. There's no other way that could have been done, to show my apologies and thankfulness for having someone like him.

I know that all this emotional baggage I bring has hurt you and distraught you love. I just wanted to shine a light  for you on why I am the way I am. To show you why the "red flags" pop up. How it's hard for me to agree to the things that you do. I know with your help I can overcome this and suffer this no longer. It will take time and patience. I hope you can forgive me for being so messed up. I love you so very much and I always will.

-Auf ewig dein.

-Lucien
Siska Gregory Dec 2016
Tot die dood ons skei… so berei ek my toe voor… vir n lewe saam met jou my ou, jy is my hero.
Jy is my alles en dit sal jy altyd wees.
Jy is my steun pillar, my altyd daarm my lewe en my vreugde.
Vir my is jy n vriend wat net die beste verdien.
Jy is sterk, gevestig in jou werk om vir my te gee vir wat ek altyd nodig sal kry.
Jy is my krag en ek weet ek verwag altyd te veel van jou, maar tog spog ek met n man van staal.
My hero, die ou vir wie ek lief is…
Dis jy… en vir my sal jy vir ewig en vir altyd bly. 2016/01/19
To my hero... i love you always
Literatim Dec 2016
Wenn wallende Wolken
Wie Wattebauschen
Den Himmel berauschen,
Die Sterblichen lauschen
Dem Klang der ewig unendlichen
Freiheit.
Translation:

When swirling clouds
Befuddle the sky
Like cotton-wool *****,
Mortals hear eternal and infinite
Freedom ring.

This poem entered my head while watching the clouds one day and I wanted to share it.(:
Since the rhyme scheme and rhythm only work in German, I decided to post it in its original form.
Souleater Dec 2017
Gemeinsam stehen wir hier,
hätte nie gedacht das du hier bleibst bei mir
Freunde die einen nie verlassen,
können sich nicht lange hassen
egal wie verschieden wir auch sind,
wir kennen uns gut wer was anderes sagt spinnt

Hatten Höhen und Tiefen,
waren nie gefangen wenn wir liefen,
waren gemeinsam frei,
waren eins und dennoch zwei
Freunde zu sagen ist zu wenig,
denn das hier ist Familie und hält ewig
haben Fehler begangen und geweint,
sie aber gerade gebogen bis die Sonne scheint
sich gegenseitig unterstützt,
denn wir wusste das alles andere nichts nützt

Jahre sind bereits vergangen
doch wir hatten nie Grund zum bangen
denn wahre Freunde bleiben und gehen nicht,
das ist etwas wo selbst die Gesellschaft nicht gegenspricht

Hätte damals nie erwartet das du mal ein Teil von mir wirst,
werde bei dir sein bist du alt bist und stirbst
Tratschen wie die Alten omis über die alte Zeit,
doch leben nicht in der Vergangenheit
gemeinsam waren wir als Freunde eins,
was mir war war dir und was dir war meins
kannten uns teilweise besser als uns selbst,
das ist der Grund warum es ewig hält ✌
Leonardo Tonini Sep 2020
Sterne sonder Zahl aus der Nacht aller Zeiten
in einem klaren Ozean bewegt ihr euch
wenn ich euch mit menschlichem Zeitempfinden betrachte
seid ihr im Rhythmus der Jahreszeiten ewig
doch wenn ich in längeren zeitlichen Dimensionen an euch
denke so weiss ich euch sterblich.
Die entfernte Stadt löscht ihre Lichter
in der dichten Nacht erscheint ihr mal zögernd,
mal überzeugt über den Bergen wohlgesinnt.
In eurer Herrlichkeit findet mein Herz seine Ruh.

STELLE

Stelle, innumeri dalla notte dei tempi
in un liquido oceano vi muovete
se con il mio tempo umano vi guardo
al ritmo delle stagioni eterne siete
ma se con altri e più lunghi tempi a voi
penso come cose mortali vi so.
Spegne la città lontana le sue luci
nella densa notte incerte qui e là sicure
sopra i monti benevole apparite.
Nella vostra gloria riposa l’animo mio.
A poem of mine translated into German by Cornelia Masciadri and currently being published in Switzerland. I am looking for an English translator. I can translate into Italian and look for a space in a magazine in Italy for those interested.
Jonan Jul 2013
"Ich liebe dich"
She dreams in german
Eyes flutter
Cheeks flushed
Biting her lip
"Fir iber und ewig"
She says
Smiling softly
In whatever adventure we're on
Dancing across her eyelids

If only she meant me.
And that "HE" knows
Blom In Blou Aug 2020
Ryk in maniere
wat nie gemeet of
Maklik bepaal kan word

Oorstallig
Rustig
Tevrede

Ryk daarna uit
Na ander oorstelp
Wat nie kan help

Bedroewig
Mismoedig
Begewe

Deel gerus jou harts lied
Sing vir dié in droogse donker
Belaai met verdriet

Vrylik
Lieflik
Begeeflik

Herinner hulle heimlik
Hul oorvloedige innerlike erfstuk
Skink 'n heildronk op die Heilbron

Bespoedig
Begeerlik
Begiet

Buig saam die kop
Ontvang die Heilse heet
Verborge net as jy vergeet

Ligweg
Verhewe
Belewe

Stap dan heelhartig helder
Koester elke kosbare tree
Destinasie onbepaald ewig verder

https://blominblou.weebly.com/blog/skatlik-ryk
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
what i've learnt about bands... say, they're headlining over
two days at one venue...
on the first day they play all their major hits...
it feels a lot like a struggle: i struggled to not yawn
even though i shouldn't have...
sure... they played all their best songs...
                  Scar Tissue, Under the Bridge...
among others... but the whole flow of the set-list felt
disjointed...
           the crowd felt too fresh...
                 and sure: on the first day the venue was sold out...
if i wasn't working i don't think i could appreciate
a back-to-back spectacle by the same band:
no... i wouldn't be stupid enough to buy tickets
for two consecutive days...
     isn't it enough that i ****** up my knees, feet and back
earned over £400... spent £35 on a t-shirt
and bought myself lunch: the best steak & potato
pasties in town?
no... i wouldn't have bought tickets for yesterday
and today... i would have thought like most people might
think: they're going to play the same songs...
nope... bands with a big enough oeuvre never play
the same songs... if they're playing two or three days
at the same venue...
   today's set list was much better...
because they only played Californication, Give it Up...
and By the Way...
    that's the only three songs they split between
the two days...
       sure... yesterday i was writing about being spotted
for what i do...
these two women started hovering around
where i was placed... i spotted them once...
disappeared... they reappeared...
one was my sort challenge... a big girl...
a big girl akin to ALISON TYLER big girl...
sort of the same height as me... all the necessary freckles
of a brunette and not a ginger...
lovely curves: big... not fat... just big...
she kept eyeing me up... i don't know whether
the crowd gave her the "*****-and-giggles" or whatever:
but her friend started to try and comfort her...
scratching her back... then caressing it...
her bra strap became exposed... then her friend tried
to hide it... and she kept looking at me with
these doe eyes...
     i couldn't allow them through the fire exit...
since only personnel can walk through freely...
so i told them: there's this disability bay up there
and the seats are far apart...
you might not see the band: but you'll hear them...
that's the best i can do...
       they left and i never saw them again...
maybe i'm just imagining things...
    who the hell buys tickets to a concert and suddenly
conjures up "panic attacks"?
i'm not saying: fakes panic attacks...
  but conjures them out of thin-air!
            maybe i have a story in my head that sort
of deviates from "reality"...
            hell... i'd buy tickets to a ******* opera instead...
that's usually a tame musical experience...
but still a musical experience...

just to the end i figured something about crowd
control, it's just a minor detail,
i sort of knew why things were done as they were
to be done: egress...
how to get over 30K spectators from the pitch...
two routes...
one route? a bottle-neck... up the stairs...
onto the concourse...
second route? a whale's ****** sized exit through
a tunnel...
what do you do? you block off the whale's ******
sized exit through a tunnel for about five minutes...
by placing traffic-cone people in high-viz. jackets
by this exit... today i felt like i was the only
controller on an airport tarmac...
moving my hands: indicating direction for
the initial crowd leaving to take...
           better orientating airplane...
   up the stairs... to the right... to the right (my right,
their left)... that's the whole trick...
establish a flow up the stairs... so that enough people
take the bait... which creates an initial split in the crowd...
since the bottleneck route can only take so
much traffic... and while people congest around
the high-viz. traffic cone people... right...
one flow established... now pull apart
the cordon of high-viz. traffic cone people
apart and let the mass of traffic through the tunnel...
makes sense...
                   i know there's no need to think about
such simple things...
but what news do you usually hear from Mecca
at the time of the Hajj?!
    what's the news? about 70 dead when the crowd
stampedes and crushes everyone...
i hate working with people with large eyes:
fear has large eyes...
    and panic is worse than ******...
               you just want people to go to an event
and leave safely... some drunk wizards and philosophers
will always be found... but that sort of stressing of
"individualism" is about as useful as
a gherkin on a pile of cucumbers...
                     i hate losing my temper with drunk people,
thank god it's a concert so you do have to shout
because of the ear-plugs...
and stand there like some hyper-inflation of "******"
gesticulating via "on MIGI": in MIG...
                  a make-shift deaf-person talk with the body...
it's not an acronym, it's a word borrowed from
******: in flashes... finger language...
hand arm body language...  
          wink wink... smile... neck turning insinuations...
i don't know if i'd make a better postman...
i think i'd make a great housekeeper when
people go on holidays and need a caretaker...
perhaps a great dog-walker...
certainly not a dentist or a heart-surgeon...
that path is lost... i'm not going to pick that sort of life
up... i'm still thinking about picking up
the role of a chemistry teacher: although i'd prefer
to be an English teacher...
  
   what a gruesome weekend... what a rewarding
weekend... i only woke up at home and
only spent 12am through to 2am scribbling and drinking...
as much as i love the idea of home:
give me a horse! and a good stretch of an Ukrainian steppe!
i've earned enough to 0 my debt and spend
the rest on prostitutes... which i will after the 1st of July...
because... i have nothing to spend it on...
plus... if the economy is going to work...
the women need the money... i just buy whiskey...
band t-shirts after seeing them in concert...
some food from time to time...
but... better the women have the money to spend...
but i'm not just going to give money to women
via marriage... via marriage that means
having a limited amount of ***
and hoping for people to attend your funeral... ah ha ha...
better i give the money to prostitutes
and have *** in return... makes sense...

i was actually dreaming about this manic weekend
finishing...
i was dreaming something akin to...
which i did fulfill...
the last day...
   singing die eisenfaust am lanzenshaft
(Teutonic Crusader song)
while walking home from Romford St. to where
i live, while drinking some cider,
smoking a cigarette or two...
admiring the night, the stars... the lateness of the sunset
of high June... wishing to find my cat sleeping
in my bed... waiting for tomorrow
in the form of waking up at 12pm,
cleaning the house... waited for the boiler technician
to come at 2pm and get paid £80 for 15 minutes'
worth of work...

then cycling for an hour... then making lunch
for dearest father with the leftover steak meat...
then making dinner power: roast chicken...
some vegetables... i'm always in my "element"
when cooking...
cleaning the house: that too...
        i have at least one night until a shift
at Wembley for an Ed the Ginger gig so i can
completely drink myself under the table:
the Matrix setting: there's no table...
as there's no "under": therefore...

                      i work hard i drink hard...
crowd control: eh... work for retards...
but these army references keep trickling down
from the top to the "stormtroopers"...
i don't know why the Somalis and other copper-neccks
like working with me...
once a make-shift supervisor...
i'm still their supervisor...
i think they just like saying the word: Matthew...

i was away from working for enough
to know... that work and youth don't mix...
und ihre schwerter blinken...
    
if i had more time: i rather walk into
the:
verdunkelt-wald... mondbeschienensilberlocken...
than a lampezündetehaus...
das knarren von kniefern
im alles das ist nacht!
                kuss mich morgen:
zu wahrheit die gähnen-mittag-von-die-sonne:
sonne das nie blinken oder schlafen...
nacht ewig: ein nacht alles uns!

i disintegrate into German from English
since... English is sort of German with some
*******-workings of pseudo-French workings...

oh but the conversations you hear...
the sort of fears blacks have concerning American culture...
the anti-racism culture of England...
too much was said in order for me to write
something equivalent to a haiku:
we, just, get, along...
   sure... i get it... there are outliers...
anti-racist white girls and their fetishes...
i have a fetishes for mushrooms and cats...
and caterpillars... i have a fetish for Turkish girls...
i have a fetish for Teutonic crusader songs...
i have a fetish for the German tongue...

but the young copper-necks like working
with me... i like them... i like their hue...
they're lazily employed at first but they soon build up
momentum...
when that happens i just start singing Teutonic songs
in my head.... i.e. we're here to get paid...
we're not in an army...
i'm planning to ******* to the land of Nod
from 2am through to 12pm... with my cat sleeping
with me... sure... i wish it was a woman...
let's not wish on too much...
first i need to scratch my scar tissue...
peel off some scab... eat it like a dog...
Jemminah really ****** me off...
not that she was an easy catch...
   but because she was a ginger and an impossible catch...

but that's the beauty of life:
you're never going to get what you "think" you're
supposed to expect... that never happens...
no one is ever promised to be born with
a crown of thorns of the crown of England...
are they?!
the idea is to diffuse the "situation"...
unlike in Republics... the old ways remain
the same... keep the majority a majority...
and then keep a scrutiny on the minority
that want to exist outside of the realm of the minority:
faking majority rule...
but?! first you have to sort out the fake minority
rule of PRIDE politico *******...
no one likes a minority detailing rules
for a majority to follow...
what one likes? individuals to detail rules
for a majority...
individuals > minorities when it comes
to the dynamic of ruling over the majority...

   classical western democracy cannot ever champion
the minority... a sub-class that undermines
the class of people that require to be guided...
this sub-class of individualism can never
undermine the individual...
but individualism is not somehow spawned:
orientated: dictated: by precursors...
it "arrives" when it must "arrive"...
                      
           give my heart and my feet a rest....
spawn some new idiots...
some spares of asp, wasp...
this night... drinking cider under this one specific
weeping willow...
dreadlock i.e. Jamaica is nowhere to be found...
melting cheese on the train tracks
or hunting for a kangaroo
perhaps dissimilar to also compare
a pumpernickel to a windmill

but let the cheese ooze when
i write a slogan machine

= is love in the algebra of pronoun
equations
while ≠ is hate

therefore i ≠ you
is unlike i = you...
at least that's how i get all fuzzy
because i finally reached the reality
of calling both sensations
a fuzz in the fuzzy brain
antics
i really want to scratch my brain
i want to thread it with
needle junctions
to where i am looking out across
the Pacific to find you
dearest plump plumb of an ***
dog in the mirror
dog in the mirror
ravaging from behind...

which sort of reminds me of the Q
above homosexuality
i understand **** eroticism
in literature
and how **** this ring finger
feels and looks
and i'm all weather-jovial in this Scandinavia
land of Denmark and England
and how glorious to see Europe
congregate in Germany
rather than Belgium in swim no swagger
Judas attire of suits
this congregation of a people
i could definitely feed off feeling on Kauai
let alone in my bedroom shack
in the Grim London to a Reaper: ask -
posit a question:
to ask for something or to ask for nothing

currently it's Turkey 1 and Gruzia 1:
that's Georgia
Gruz: i: a
              not ja?

йa
           as much as я

carnival central in my head with
NFOMO: no fear of missing out:
got the acronyms all wong in wok
i mean: acronyms are without
vowels

with exception to USA the grand central
#genesis of acronyms
but not from this Federalist
this post-Republican anti-Democrat
i believe in a coherency of the compactness
of individuals
now with this ring i'm freed from
the ******* of Satan the soloist
and in God's honest ****
i do to my wife
what i would never do to a *******
hail Mary Hail Mary

i paid for my infidelity a labor of
£130 for an hour massaging her
i needed touch
but i needed to give touch
and not receive it
that's how dishonest i can be
flamboyant rude boy ginger
yes i cheated: on my wife that's not my wife
just yet
i have a project ahead of me
four women
my mother
not my grandmother or my great grandmother
not my father's mother
who i have to image of
instead i have
Edie Reyla Lydia
instead i have
Edie Reyla Lydia...
Puerto Rico on the sun flaring up
with teenage angst
with **** firestarter
with my woman my exlusivity
so much good that did me
going to the brothel like that
i was thinking about a Thai massage
parlor but i thought the world
is tense and relaxed at the same time
people are congregating in Germany
in the political arena of football
because the Coliseum is
both Parliament and Church...
the inseparable dynamic of High Secularism...
the Coliseum is both
Parliament and Church...

       ROM EWIG!
HAGELZEIT!
        zeit heil! really? that's how you salute
in Sardaukar Mongolian
i'm pretty sure we've been through
this already: the dampening
are you ******* twice over staff sergeants
all protruding like that
like i'm your suckling octopus baby
wrap or what?! ha ha...

in the **** of god
this goodness of ***
now i see
now i don't want to leave
the singing blessings
i don't want to leave:
take your homosexual liberalism
and leave my CIS non-conformist
stance of: just about right
when it comes to the existential imprint
of lagging 18 years behind
the **** librarian me *******
my imaginary mother
this is not a tiger in a bed photograph
to liken mole to cougar
but once i had the opportunity
of holding a rabbit in my hands:
a blind little beggar without a hop
but then i remember what
humanism layered onto the brutality
of nature looks like
as all children squeak ferociously: UNFAIR...

i also saw two kestrels or perhaps
hawks circling
above me
and then i realized: what good of nature
with man's indentation to make
shape-shifting deconstruction
post-modern very acutely parallel to paradox:
heightened a narrative
for the dead-ends of nature's ability to evolve
as there are dead-end avenues
the ant will not change into anything
beyond the zenith of adaptability as ant
and man can only gesticulate
with a blind man's wand to conjure footsteps
echo and footprints
like diamonds in water and in sheen
of metal in the Lung of Sunlight

            i believe in the biochemistry
i once articulate aloof by denoting
it a meaning, love...

           das biochemie ist liebe!
this metabolism this eradication of thought
and spirit like breath
likened breath for breath
how distance
sour **** sour **** bad taste in the mouth
but that's maybe because you drooled
from the excess in your mouth
O perhaps i was wrong
this Godly **** with Wife
this antithesis erotica just plain Vanilla Sam and Sally
Sam and Sally having a romp
don't understand perhaps
that decade in my 20s spent pasturing
in Celibacy La La

        or perhaps me and English women
are incompatible: period: periodically...
perhaps too much Afro Boosters required:
i see the future as mixed race
for a time
before the splinters come out again
and there's bleeding from beneath the fingernails
like drowning men aching
to breathe grabbing at the razor's edge...

but at least now i don't have a voyeuristic downer
but like i explained to mother:
atheism, liberalism, anti-communism
anti Pan-Slavic
whatever
i wish i could tell you it's love: blah blah
and this high meaning: blah blah...
but it has truly, simply come down to the metabolism
of emotions
and the dispersing of thoughts
thoughts regardless if articulated to the gravity
of words
all better for some frightened onlooker: a reader:
but between you and me:
this is biochemistry
and i'm not afraid to say there's no "god" behind
it and i accept that my body is responsive
to: he said: she said none of us
thought to ought it for correction...

love is biochemistry but science doesn't have
to be anti-religious
but complimentary to it
after all sport has somehow stood alone
from what the sober poll, politics:

the Coliseum is the Parliament and the Church...
shame on anyone writing
anything these days and not working
in a Coliseum... or Coliseums...

Rome Eternal...
                    Rzym: WIECZNY!
ROMA ÆTERNA!
    ROMA ÆTERNA!
                    ROMA ÆTERNA!

i think that's the only tattoo i'd get:
on my wrist...
although one further would be a hummingbird
on my neck just below my ear
in homage to the god
or at least get that tattoo: ROMA ÆTERNA!
where all Holocaust survivors received
their "bar code" of a number...

Huitzilopochtli... proper **** LIFE scenario
should she see me next...
and a driving license... my my...
what plans for the next months
caged on Kauai
otherwise: not caged in London?
you can't be IN Kauai
like you can't be ON London: how can you?

6pm the rumbling of a hunger
sure: there is a stomach
and there's also food
but i don't really require digesting something
right now: more like i've been
presented with an *** and either
i'm eating that out or
i'm ******* it... regardless...
eating a non-edible
like *** is cartilage: my Carthage -

          is not from a symposium denoting
who isn't going to say that:
Cato didn't say so:                    again...

et hoc mihi: ad hoc tu es! amica mea cor meum!
it seems to me that:
for that you are: my love! my heart!

cheese! jeez! so much stinking cheese
of ***: raucous *** sounds
like freakish pigeons on hyperventilation
suppression machines of
******-torture
like there was never any age
difference to speak of when these two
got together.

— The End —