"gril" poems
Knuppeldik gaan slaap die stad
na 'n feesmaal van smaak en kleur
vloei die reuke deur die strate
in 'n Brown se beweging van geur.
Alle trommels , trommeldik maar maak 'n lee geraas
en in die donker , agterstrate begin die ander nou te aas
Kom die honger hande uit die sakke
en krap met rook-geel vingernael
soek die skummel in die swartsak
vir 'n laaste dissipelsmaal.
Maar jy is skille , jy is doppe
jy is alles wat laat gril
nie genoeg vir koningstafels maar vir my
net genoeg om die knaagdiere te stil.
Onerfare soos ek is , vat my hongerbrein ook mis
watter mens kan so dan lewe? watter mens kan so dan eet?
van die lykswa en die straatveers
het hierdie boemelaar vergeet.
Ek is mens en nie 'n vark nie,
(al moet 'n mens ook eet).
En stil vergaan die boemelaar
wat kieskeur ook wou wees,
nog 'n straatkind se ou lykie
nog 'n honger kinder gees...
ek wat was het mos gesien
*** kos op tafels lyk,
en het sodanig hart verloor
op kosse kleur en ruik.
Met 'n bord vol knubbels le die lykie
voor hom , onaangeraak.
Al was kos ook wat kos was daar
het hy te lief vir die droom geraak.
Eerder kwyn en dood verslaan
as om die droom te ruineer.
Eerder dood van honger,
as om hierdie kos , as sulks te eer.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 10:37 AM UTC
I'M JUST A GIRL'
AND NOT A GRIL;
I TOO HAVE EMOTIONS,
WHICH I FORGET FOR MY CREATIONS............
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC
everyone who passes through the house of James
plays a part in their second story story
Nick is not of the kitchen
but he’s ghosting there
and he tries
he tries with words
he tries with dance
he tries so hard we barely see him!
James is thirsty!
and that’s the other story...
He's drying *******
on an old gas cooker
when ‘Phelie blows in
on a colleague
o’ Koz Bar leaves
hi poising cat-ready
on a brown couch
on a couch
that remembers no shape
though she tries
she tries to make an impression
on our blurred nerves too
beginning with alrigh'
which is hi too but with feeling
this hi assumes we know
drama gril and da Richmond crew
And I try to say
I mean I am trying to say
the couch remembers no shape
I have no memory
of drama teachers or michelle
yelling again darling with feeling this time
then she tells
me what *a lonely time
it has been since the…addiction -*
michelle poising there
upon the word
like a Lepidopterist’s pin
on au-then-tic-i-ty -
isn’t it enough that I said it?
now that it’s a dead thing
it spreads its terrible wings
and 'Phelie double drops
her second story hello hello
we lean into a kiss hello
her lips are not dry
though she smokes her mouth un-wet
she tries to say hello
by laughing at
I've given up not-smoking
and we talk
and kiss a fresh hello
undress hello
touch hello
leading to a breathless hello hello hello
and now I am saying,
again darling with feeling this time
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 4:33 AM UTC