"kruger" 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
A humanitarian crisis,
A situation catastrophic,
A sprawl of ramshackle buildings,
Now vacated,
As masses continue to flee,
What’s left of their battered motherland,
With operation Murambatsvina at its apex,
I left where my house used to stand,
Now a rubble of broken bricks and choking dust,
Just with the dress I was wearing,
And bitter memories of a faceless monster,
The prophet of doom,
An epitome of conflicted personality,
The hardhearted devil personified,
I fled on foot,
Ran-walked, ran-walked,
Swam across the Limpopo River,
Ran-walked across Kruger National Park,
Met the police,
Abused, ***** and sent back,
Swam back,
Ran-walked, ran-walked,
This is the Zimbabwean fate,
Our heart-wrenching fate,
Exodus after exodus.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 5:51 AM UTC
There's a guy dressed up as Freddie Kruger for Halloween
Freddie Kruger can't sing the high part during Eye Of The Tiger
I murmur something to my friend
Me: Freddie Crooner
My friend laughs more than he needs to
We aren't sure whose whiskey sour is whose anymore
My roommate doesn't want to sing in front of people
She'd rather hide in her glass and mingle with the ice
But I make her duet a Nirvana song with me
Which we scream and she starts having fun
The crowd claps with relief when we're done
Freddie Kruger offers me a fist bump
A group of sweet plump ladies takes turns singing love ballads
They all have pretty voices and work at Bubba Gump on the pier
The one that sang the Adele song is studying business
She tells me while we smoke outside during Wonder Wall
I sing nine minutes of Meatloaf
My voice cracks and growls like feedback
This guy buys me a shot afterwards
My throat is so dry that I have to drink it in tiny sips
This guy thinks me and my friends are fun
I duet Desperado with him and we knock over stools and laugh
He has clearly never heard the song Desperado before
Me and my friends invite the whole bar to sing an Aerosmith song together
I think that this may be the only way to really appreciate Aerosmith
I drive my roommate and my self back to our apartment
I'm drunk but I pretend I'm sober so she won't get scared
Then sometimes I laugh bizarrely to scare her a little bit
But always end up lying and reassuring her that I'm sober
We start talking about Lou Reed because he had died that day
I guess Lou Reed didn't like when people said RIP
Which I had written in my facebook status about him dying
I don't really care much because Lou Reed wasn't really a friend of mine
I just liked his music
And he never mentions in any of his songs anything
About people saying RIP
When we got to the bar the first thing I did
Was to look for a Lou Reed song to sing
But there weren't any
So I sang other songs instead
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC
Momma was a bleeder
***** on the stairs outside the complex
Mainstays all unraveled
mildewed and rotting on the concrete decks
Her ceaseless curtain calls
belied the prescriptions for falling down
She was a butterfly hurricane comin’ from the coast
makin’ eddies swirl sanguine pools
Even Kruger wasn’t dumb enough to jump in her grey-outs
the guy simply walked away
Feb 10, 2010
Feb 10, 2010 at 7:01 PM UTC
I'm just laying down, trying to fathom why my mind is so cruel.
Deadly thoughts, call it Freddy Kruger.
Because people don't even know how I'm dying inside.
Just get me a coffin so maybe I can lay down a bit more.
I've been laying down all day, maybe because everybody has been stepping on me.
And I'm just too weak to get back up, well I'm just use to it.
Living in the shadow of somebody else.
Always coming in second just means that I'm nothing special.
Maybe I come off the wrong way.
Come off as nice and caring.
And I hate that.
Because nice guys don't even come in second, they always finish last.
Letting everyone ahead.
Leaving no happiness and joy for themselves.
I'm just there smiling but making no sound.
Except saying, "I'm fine, I'm just a bit tired."
*I let my words say nothing at all and let my silence explain everything.
Why is it that when I don't have a smile on my face, it's the only time you ask me if I'm okay.*
I'm sorry.
That for one day, I show my real emotions and made you worry.
I'm sorry.
That I was talking to your crush because she was the only one that could make me smile at the time.
I'm sorry.
For being me.
A snake, a bad friend, and a horrible person.
I'm sorry.
For getting out of bed this morning.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
I will never be that girl.
I will never have blonde hair, pink nails, red lips.
I don't have a cosmo in my oversized coach bag.
I bite my nails, I get bug bites, I pick at them.
My face is splotchy and I don't cover it up with make up.
I sneeze and throw up and get infections.
I fall down.
I will never have a bikini body.
I wear a bikini anyway.
I have freckles, scars, scabs, and I'm so pale that you can see every blue vein in my body.
My handwriting looks like that of a 5 year old boy.
I will never be the girl in the pink summer dress with the high heeled sandals.
My room is a mess.
My car is a mess.
My brain is a mess.
I say things like "I wonder what human tastes like."
I freak out over a home made Ouija board that I didn't even use.
Then I go watch the scariest movie I can find.
I used to sleep with a Freddy Kruger doll.
I root for the bad guy.
I'm stubborn.
I'm angry.
I'm aggressive.
I'm passive aggressive.
I'm damaged goods.
I will never be that perfect embodiment of woman.
Blonde hair, dresses, heels, white teeth, positive outlook.
I'd rather be friends with my books than actual people.
And you love me anyway.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
Who do you think you are?
Digging through the rubble of history
Rearranging it to make YOU look like the innocent one
Who do you think you are?
Stringing together venomous lies
Twisting the truth to spearhead your crusade of destruction
Who do you think you are?
Playing the innocent, wronged victim
When we all know you’re the malicious instigator
Who do you think you are?
Hiding behind a honey mask
When we all know it is not sweet, but sickly
What gave you the right?
To walk into my life
To unravel the our hearts
Mould your self into it
And then pick way at the joints
With your malevolent thoughts
And walk away acting like the martyr
Acting like the innocent victim
And then worm your way back into there
Because their hearts were like Flubber
Willing malleably for your Kruger fingers
Ready to rip us all to shreds
Just who the hell do you think you are?
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
A night's a light
Who valour,conquers
Piffles from haters,
Who libel your
Life to slay your
Dreams onto shreds.
In this rough road we walking
Through,full of thorns,
Nemesis waiting in line
Like sheeps in the midst
Of wolves.
We African dreams,ascend
Alike the sun in morning of Kruger's
Nation from dawn of
South Safari.
Bricks build buildings to climb,
For our dreams as we crawl half
Onto top of the tower on snail pace,
We not holding behind,only carrying
Scriptures to heaven.they call us
Failurers,we call ourselves the Children of
God bound by faith,living
The light of Almighty
Father.
Success of Failurer,The walking
Through of the toughest.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
On Angels Wings,
Dearly departed,
i miss the artist in you.
Soweto Springs.
Marooned in the mountains,
of stakes split socialism states.
so
high.
Liberalise my mind one final time,
before you
f l o a t into paradise.
Enchanted wonderland,
big game Zion elysium,
in the Kruger National park.
I miss you after dark;
Your kingdom come in those
happy hunting grounds.
How low could one go.
Perched upon Kilimanjaro,
table top feasts,
the
wilderbeasts,
perch upon the mountain range,
and
will eat you alive.
I miss you in the mourning.
I have no words.
None.
Johannesburg.
Where you gave birth to my world.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
My body's a prison
its trapped me behind my eyes
and all i can do is watch the world pass me by
I'm stiff and catatonic
watching reality like a TV show
My body's a cage
that's ensnared my mind
telling it what it can and cant do
always holding it back
making it friends with Dunning and Kruger
I'd burn this body and move on
but I'm not sure i like the idea of this body burning
it seems so painful to leave it behind
I think I'll hold onto it a little while longer
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
To the strangers
* You wouldn't touch me if i wasn't pregnant
* if you see me everyday try to remember what my due date is
* If you see me once a week don't take it upon yourself to tell me how fat im getting
* don't tell me what not to do. i already know
*unless you have MD behind your name leave me alone
Conversation with my 7 year old brother
"You sure are getting fat mom"
"Im not getting fat the baby is growing"
"the baby sure is getting big mom"
Comments from my daughter, you look like freddy kruger
*don't tell me what could happen to my baby
*if theres a best case scenario and a worst case scenario and you feel the need to inform me please tell me the better one
* I like that people like to feed me more
* The bus stops for me
* "It was the baby" always works
* Hard to find clothes
- only six outfits that me right now
*carpal tunnel, diabetes, swollen feet Justiational
* "That won't be good for the baby"
* "not to eat too much, dear"
*
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
it would probably never work because I've been through so many F words
and the only one that's stuck was fuckable and not the one that best described myself and life as a whole which I believe is fragile
you can't walk a day without bumping into an f word that f worded me and it's f word that it's common knowledge that I've been through so many f words but apparently not shared that I've spilled myself into coffee mugs and paint jars tryin to turn f words into futures and I've all ever been through so many cause I just want to be loved and **** it Freddy Kruger I just want someone to love
but F words will be ******** and and I'll move on to the next word trying to find a new sword to bleed myself out of being
cause he lied and he lied
and all I did was bend in angles set squares couldn't even triangle but in the end there's more then 2billion 6hundred and forty2 F words in language and I'll just always be the girl with too many f words and it's no shocker why I'm suffering from heart failure
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
A 'cuse me?
I lie, eh? I know the way, but let me be the one
to wonder why
would I lie,
do you
read or listen or look or stop when al you can do has been done
al read y
and stand
waiting
waithing
to catch a breath
Up ag'in the wall?
If Dunning Kruger is all they got to throw,
you know what
you know, wrong ain't evil,
lying ly real calling right wrong is something only
a left hand wishing to make some noise
could imagine
right
clap clap clap, and **** Feynman
on the bongos
backing us up with a little James Dean ditty from
the Naked City
Times change, reality may be
de or re ift
in a rich man with a satisfied mind.
(if you'd only known.) Take another question?
chew and swallow and wait,
this will get your guts grinding reasons
the frontal cortex always gets
chirality inhibitions about letting the right hand
do anything the left can't imagine.
You know how it is. we get by.
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 9:09 PM UTC
Baby you are the one thing..
Like freddy kruger
You are in my dreams
Like pin heads nails
Your always on my mind
Like leather face
I really don't know who I am..
..With out you
I guess what I'm saying is
I love you and even Jason machete could not cut us apart
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
Covering your hands with glue
Letting it dry, to peel it off, like a thin layer of skin
Sticking pins through the top layers of your fingertip skin, to make a wimpy Freddie Kruger
Watching hydrogen peroxide bubble on your scrape
And then, picking off the scab
Unbending a paperclip, to fashion a makeshift retainer for your teeth
Swinging your arms around in the sideways helicopter, so it can make you run faster
I'm sure I'll be adding to this in the comments. Please add too, if you can think of anything
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 12:32 AM UTC