"selfs" 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
Opgedra aan ‘n kind wat gebliksem moet word.
Deur: Desperaatheid en vrees
Jy klim in en uit die ***** van bestaan,
beide die rede vir liefde en
die kind wat sy baar.
Jy is ‘n drievoud van godelike hervertellings
, want wie kan regtig liefde
in ‘n enkel sin verhaal?
Geminag , die seun van liefde en haat
- jou einste bestaan ,van die vroegste
paradoksale meesterstukke.
Verewig , verewig tot ‘n kind
tussen die Groottes wat
blindlings onder jou boogpunt swik.
Vir elke nasie ‘n ander droom
Vir elke geloof ‘n ander naam en
Vir elke mens ‘n ander god.
Amor , oh Amor!
Die sinnebeeld van liefde
wat die mendsom verbly
, maar Eros jou ramkat
jou hupse hygelbek!
Jou erotiese aanraak!
(die begeer ek)
En ek?
Met my koker van lig en van goud,
wat hulde blyk en bou en bring
maar bestorwe le voor my Laurel
oor ‘n lood-stomp pylpunt vir haar ‘n treuerlied sing!
Amor, Amor word wakker!
My son le liefdeloos in my bros hart
, wat instaan teen logika
– sterk op die oorlogspad!
Jy wat na my heuning reik
-met honger hande vieslik gryp
en ek wat jou met angel steek
in desperaatheid jou nat vel breek…
“Oh moeder”, roep die wetter na bo
vir die planete om aan te ****
“Oh moeder, Oh liefde “ ,spat die sot se treur,
“ *** kan so bietjie , so klein – so seer!”
En die heumel druis soos die moeder lag
haar humor eg , maar haar woorde sag:
“ My naakseun, my hinksperd
My fallus met vlerke!
Jy ,nog ‘n roosknop.
gaan ook so te werke!
Aanvaar die poëtiese justitie
Stil nou liefstetjie
Lamtietie Damtietie …”
Amor, Amor!
Weerstaan tog skoonheid se wieggelied
en wees my genadig!
Begunstig my ten einde laaste
, selfs vader tyd is verveeld
met die son se enkelpad!
*** lank nog wil jy sluimer?
Amor, Amor!
Tel weer op jou leisels
en bring liefde op die wind
my wereld lê in afwagting
vir die dolfyn en sy kind!
Wees my genadig, Amor!
Deurboor my leemte met goud,
,want die bringer van lig is slapeloos
en my hart is droewig en koud.
Oh Amor, Amor!
Ek weet jys nog jonk,
maar *** speel jy dollos met lewe se vonk…
Amor, Amor!
Word wakker!
Amor…
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:56 AM UTC
In die asemdroogtes van die nag
Word ek gebombardeer deur die warrelwinde van my ongesproke woorde
Wat ten laaste my hart van dolomiet versag
Skrapnel vlieg rond in die inner ruimtes van my gesonder verstand
In die geweldadige debat tussen die skynbare sinneloosheid van die Woord
En die gevoel van jou hand in myne
In geheim bou ek ń koningryk van lugkastele
Waarin jou beeld in elke kamer pronk.
Maar selfs díe verdwyn in die wasige misgordyn van dade
Waarvoor ek self nog swyg
Ten slotte:
Ek smag na jou...
-kammeraaddkap
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
Ek het die siek gewoonte om oog op te slaan
en die nagprag te aanskou met digters-oog
wat 'n ster van elke mens wil maak
en elkeen wil bekoor, maar
selfs al span ek al my mag in
is daar een ster hoog verhewe...
Daar sit die ster op 'n tuinstoel troon ,
oe betowerer deur die vuur
andag gestrek deur die ganse heelal
- orals behalwe hier,
waar ek soos 'n straatbrak honger kyk,
aan die voete van 'n ster
*** almal bietjie aandag eis
*** almal van jou kry
maar ek soos 'n een aand wonder
uitteer aan jou droewe stilswy
My slapelose nagte
maak my van die drome vry
want in realiteit, al kyk ek vir die sterre,
kyk hulle soms verby.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
Freddy singing
Chica eating
Bonnie rocking
Me backstage thinking to myself "they would never accept me, always alone"
I was the one who was mostly left out of the gang, a lonely pirate fox.
I did enjoy the laughter and smiles of children, eating pizza and playing.
But I always wanted to be one of them, always wanted to be, well, not alone.
I wanted to be on stage with freddy and the rest of the gang to be adored
But I'm just a lonely fox, standing on a Lonely corner, behind a lonely curtain.
But today was different, today was going to make my life change forever, not better but worse.
Freddy and the gang were doing the usual thing they do every day, introducing them selfs, then introducing me. I was always prepared to see the smiles on the children's faces, hearing the laughter of joy here at Freddy Fazbear's pizza. As I stepped out of the curtains, I welcomed the children to pirates cove. I would always greet them with a smile and tell them to have fun.
Today, an unusual little girl came in. It was probably her first time here, because I've never seen her before. As I talked the little girl walked up to me and started asking her mother a lot of questions about me. I realized that my owners haven't changed my battery because I was malfunctioning and my battery was dying. An employee came up to the girl and told her not to get close to me. She got mad and ignored him. That got me a little upset. As my battery was dying, I was talking slower and slower by the second. The employee then asked the girls mom to make her child not get close to me, but she ignored him as well. Then there was something that really got me upset. The little girl started to make fun of me. I got really mad, but that was the end of it. My battery had died, I had fallen off the stage, and all I could remember was me hearing a loud crunch,blood in my mouth,people screaming and crying and seeing a little headless girl right beside me.
When I had woken up, there were no smiling children. No happy parents. No singing and laughter. The place was completely empty. I looked around for anyone to be there, but all there was, was Freddy and the gang starring at me in anger. I walked out of my stage place and wandered around. I when to the entrance and saw a sign that said "closed by the end of the year". I became sad and walked back to my lonely stage. As I walked I noticed that Freddy, Chica and Bonnie were waiting for me there. They grabbed me and threw me to the ground. The beet me up tore me to shreds. I couldn't take it so I let out a loud scream. They stopped, then we all hear someone coming. Freddy, Chica and Bonnie run back on their stage. An employee comes in with a sign in his hand. He came towards me and put a sign on my stage. It read, " Sorry, out of order".
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
My kinderjare was
Soetsappige drome
En ek het weggesluimer
Agter suiwer onskuld,
Met ń krag van geloof
Wat my oortuig het dat
My God ook jou God is...
Dat elke pad ń onnodige
Veiligheidsgordel verg
Dat elke beursie ń oneindigheid van R20
Note besit het en dat
Elke graf leeg was na die derde dag
Dit was deur die verskillende stadia van bogenoemde
Uiltjies knip wat my
Tot die meerderheids
Besef van addolosensie gebring het.
Selfs al het ek teen ń
Eksponensiële spoed
Ń volwasse begrip ontwikkel
,Was my redenasie oor die
Hiernamaals nog vaag
Met slaap in die oog
Eers toe daar een
langs my Val
En tien aan my sy
Het die drakoniese deun
Van die doodswek my
Uit my snoesige slaap geruk.
Met elke groef wat nuwe
Paaie teer vir my trane,
Elke silwer randjie wat
Lostrek van die donker wolke
En op my hoof kom rus
Soos die koue staal
Van ń koningin se swaard
Wat my inlyf in die
Sidderende realiteit van grootword en lewe
Nou is die droom verby
Nou staan ek op
En vrees om plat te val...
Ek oes en saai
Met ń bekommernis of my ploeg iets sal maai...
Nou word paaie ń lang gebed
Ter beskerming van my hart
Wat ek so maklik uitdeel
En beursies ń kommoditeit
Wat skree van die honger
Soos die mense van ń land
Wat al sy geloof verloor het...
Nou brand die sand my voete
En die seesout droog my vel...
Nou word wraak ń amp
En liefde ń kombinasie
Van gifte en giwwe
, maar ek sal nooit weet
Wanneer is dit wat nie...
Nou word lewe ń gebed.
Ek het ophou my
Kinder rympies sê,
Nou bid ek pynlik swaar
En hoop dat God
Nog genade vir my en
vir jou Sal hê
Amen
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
*since I wept poems freely,
from rise to set,
every breeze, every minute, each bladed grass,
a creation-emotion overtaking
the residue is
every pen dry,
every pencil nubbed,
every free and white
piece of paper,
even all the napkins,
Picasso scribbled
but this one compelled to
rise and set,
before you placed
with a gratitude that
needs no explaining,
a poem,
first and knighted as*
Camaraderie
a tired, benighted idea,
oft expressed,
that cannot be contained,
swelling up, chest burn bursting
and it's not yet 600am
but the sun demands
payment for admission to this
morning's performance,
which will never be rebroadcast
so in humility, I
offer up this scrap,
in hopes it earns me
one more show tomorrow
pleasing him,
by pleasing you
we write with many motives,
but this ticket is
for my friends here,
genuine camaraderie that is holy,
sourced from holy water,
"straight from the water"
within our physical selfs
your arm unasked slung
over my shoulder,
your words my inspiration,
your demands, none,
other than give a listen
which is no demand,
but sweet sugar daily,
crazy stupid flooded
teary-eyed
through words care crafted,
I have found so many
gentle kind
that without hesitation,
I find myself blessing us all
by repeatedly uttering
Hallelujah!
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 6:13 AM UTC
-Ek en my geraamtes het soms ook 'n uitval
Verdoem deur drome van 'n wakker oog
gee ek in tot die eindelose gekarring.
Waaroor die ophef van 'n silwerdoek beeld
die trane en inspirasie , aangemeld -
en saamgesmelt in elke belydenis?
Ek spaar toe maar my knieë en sak neer
voor die rekenaar en fynkam
die intrieke sydrade van ons spinnerakke
Vergrootglas die letters, opsoek na:
'n Gebed vir - 'n Gebed vir hom...
NEE MY!
Toe speel my storie... Ag ek meen
Sy outobiografie af en ek's aleen.
Elke nou en dan en dan en wan
vee ek oor die rekenaar skerm en
skrik as ek sý gesig sien.
Hy wou dit nie aanvaar nie!
- ek wou regtig nie!
Hy wou verander!
-ek wou regtig graag verander...
ek... - ek bedoel hy;
Ons ma's was swertsend selfs
godslasterik lief vir ons en
haar stickynotes het ons oral vasgekeur
, want Levitikus!!!
Levitikus sê NEE...
Ma sê die Bybel sê:
"Ons is dood".
Ma se sy wil ons nie verloor nie.
Kom sy nie agter dat ons in
haar geweierde woorde versmoor nie.
My knieë is lank genoeg gespaar.
Na 90 minute se snikke en trane
val ek neer voor die Heer en
almal wat nog wil luister.
Ware ellende stort uit perelpoele
en plas neer op die koue wereld.
Uiteindelik bid ek vir hom, maar
my gebede is te laat - met so
dertig jaar of wat -.
Ek hoop iemand bid vir my...
ek hoop die gebede vind my
- maar vir my , betyds-.
Want ek sit met VIGS van die
siel. 'n Tipe kanker op sy eie 'n
lifelong companion om die eufemisme
mooi te stel...
Ek is Hy.
Hy is ek.
Ons is ons eie tipe mens.
Amen
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
My bed verlang na ewewig
En kantel as ek lê, My arm kweek ń
onwrikbare
Verlange na ń glimlag wat
Daarteen druk en Selfs nou en dan
Speels byt.
Die ysere
Koue wat
Dwing om
In my oop
Arms te
Kom rus.
My kat spin hard op my bors,
Duidelik in haar skik met die
Wete dat sy,
vir nou
Op jou geresserveerde kussing
Kan lê
En met
Daardie
Wete
Verlekker
Sy haarself
In my
Ellende
Die leemte hier is groter as net die Dubbelbed oop spasie op my
Queensize bed en die lieflike geeste wat deur my arms gly
En giggel
Want ek
Wag vir
Iets wat
Dalk nie
Kom nie
Dalk is dit beter so, want as jy my innerlike konflik ook soos ń kakofonie
Van dromme
Teen die mure van jou koglea kon voel dans, was hierdie leemte nog
Meer leeg
As ooit
Tevore
En sou
My contact
List net
Soos my bed
Geraak het...
Die wind wat deur my hartskrake seifer,
Fluister jou naam
En flankeer met
My gevoelens....
Hiers ń spasie oop
Spesiaal vir jou...
Mnr _.
-ń tipofrafiese voorbeeld
Van digterlike vryheid
Verwar vir menslike
Eensaamheid...
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
"I am sorry. I don't want to be an emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible. Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness; not each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there's room for everyone and a good Earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut our selfs in; machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think to much and feel to little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The airplane and radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions sires out the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair". The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die liberty will never perish. Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you - who regiment your lives, tell you what to do what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines, you are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate only the unloved hate. The unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers - don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty. In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written: "the kingdom of God is within man". Not one man, nor a group of men - but in all men - in you. You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let us use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work,that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They don't fulfill that promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfill that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world were science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers - in the name of democracy, let us all unite!"
~Charlie Chaplin
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
i know you don’t want to be with me,
please stop with the i love you’s,
you don't even know what that means
do you really think that I'm a fool
i cant make the person that i once loved be in a relationship that i only dream of.
so I decided for myself to not have you around
so why are you threatening me
being so hateful and mean
telling me this will get ugly
why are you being like this
what do you mean,
I hate that your deceitful
dishonest and untrustworthy,
a two-faced LYING **** thats
forcing them selfs in my life
I'm really trying to understand
how you could be so selfish
you just break my heart over and over again,
its better that your very far you see,
cause having you around just hurts me,
what don't you understand.
i don't want you around me
i don't want to be your friend,
and moments that i think of you
i start to remember how you treated me
with no respect you've given me
you always would get rid of me,
please oh please just let me be free
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 7:01 AM UTC
So word ons wakker in ons tent en dit reen...aggenee!! Maar dis koel en ons voel gelukkig.
Ek is vuil, so amper dat ek wil huil, maar huil van lekker soos n krekker want dis vakansie tyd!!
My hare is so waar deur mekaar, maar wat maak dit saak want niks gaan my keer om vir n gogga te wys *** deur mekaar ek rerig kan weesie...
Tanne geborsel en room half gesmeer, laat die dag begin want dis ons en ons ford bakkie die keer...alweer...
Kies n rigting en so voeter ons daarin...
Saans kom ons by die kamp moeg geploeg die bosse in om nou rustig te raak met n koeldrank in ons hand.
Dan word n vuurtjie gemaak deur die braafste ou ini land om n vleisie te braai vir die fraaiste meisie, hand aan hand.
Mens voel gou dankbaar vir klein dingetjies soos n stort... n warme een, die oop velde of selfs die digte bosse, die veld blommetjies so geel of die gras so lank en groen, die voels so mooi volle kleurrig en die jakkals so skaam maar nuuskirig.
En wanneer dit donker word le daar baie voor soos die uile se geluide, die sonbesies wat hulle vlerkies saam klap of dalk n hihena wat na oorskied kom krap.
So geniet ons die bos vol avontuur gepos net vir ons en ons se dankie aan ons Skepper vir n skepping net vir ons. 2016/03/14
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:32 AM UTC
Eye contact leaks personalities
You hope stay secret
Yet
They beg to be seen,
Recognised and conversed warmly with
They only wish to feel not as strange
As their owner fears they are
Be held, loved, cherished even,
Just not shunned
When lids shut,
or gaze averts,
Believe safety is inside yourself
But please,
Know that's a curse
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
*** praat jy met 'n nagmerrie stem
waar jou uitroeptekens soos 'n slu foks-stem
in 'n koue marmer gaap besterf?
*** druk ek my ore toe
as my hande agter my rug gebind is
met drade van sielsdiep verse?
7 biljoen stemme , maar joune rys uit:
'n metaal orkes in 'n wereld van vyandlike vriende
en godslasterlike psalm-gesange.
*** droom ek stukke van jou op
in al die gifte van 'n barmhartige maan
wat my geliefde aan die bitterbessie bosse hang?
Ek probeer verwoed om my monsters
soos silwer gekwaste honde te verdrink
, maar selfs in die beursie-tapper lawaai water
is hul swem tegniek onverbeterlik.
Vergewe my stilswye en klapperwoorde
, maar ek sukkel om my drome te deel
met klaasvakie kerels wat hulle
voetspore ongeskonde laat
en liederlike drome aandra.
Ek bevraagteken soms die vraagtekens
en die puntlose stellings wat
tenstrydig die onbeperkte moontlikhede kortknip...
Soms wonder ek...
soms droom ek...
soms hoop ek...
-maar ek skrik altyd wakker
, altyd.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
Though the date may be late… and
Those type things don’t happen anymore…MUCH…dare I say
Those type things don’t happen MUCH anymore… (yes I dared)
It is nevertheless ingrained…
No matter the age or the date
However young or old…
It is in our DNA… and
Our DNA does not forget
Will not allow us
As other cultures will
To easily enjoy
The remote loveliness… and
Maniacally flowering greenery… and
Beauteous quiet of this
Southern forest… this
Confederate lake…
Without our spirits
Sadly counting
The cumulative number of
Hundreds of years of
Fertilization by
Black Men’s bones…
But like my father and his father before him
We show up anyway…
Albeit somewhat uneasily…
While the native good-ole-boys
Stand stock still and stare
Actin’ like they never seen one’a us before… and
Though we arrived obviously prepared for what we came to do
They still stare… as if
wondering what we could possibly be doing here…
or maybe… how dare we enjoy God’s green earth with our brown selfs…
And my beautiful Black Man
with ease of motion
Audaciously pays the Black Tax
(the quoted price over what the sign says the price is)
As I bait my line in defiance
Albeit somewhat uneasily… and
Cast it out into this confederate lake
And my beautiful Black Man
Also stands… broad shoulders back… and
Pointedly does not acknowledge the presence of the natives
As they stand stock still and stare
But it is there
(We will NOT be afraid… and we will NOT go away)
Unspoken between us... But
Always in the back of the mind…
The recesses of the consciousness…
Preparation for this day… and the worst that it can bring…
Is ingrained…
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 3:15 PM UTC
"I am sorry. I don't want to be an emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible. Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness; not each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there's room for everyone and a good Earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut our selfs in; machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think to much and feel to little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The airplane and radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions sires out the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair". The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die liberty will never perish. Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you - who regiment your lives, tell you what to do what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines, you are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate only the unloved hate. The unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers - don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty. In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written: "the kingdom of God is within man". Not one man, nor a group of men - but in all men - in you. You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let us use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work,that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They don't fulfill that promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfill that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world were science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers - in the name of democracy, let us all unite!" ~Charlie Chaplin
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
I feel as if there is a seed that was planted in all of us to search for definition, whether it be of self or of anything else, but search for definition none the less.
As if the things that provide the worth are even there, and not ever more present in the distance of two individual selfs.
As the past would show us, even in its weakest state, it is still distance that determines who is what.
It's so easy to forget that it's believed we spend our time searching for things, when really we're just trying to find where they begin.
Even though beginnings in themselves are easy to find since there so many of them, almost none of them are the same.
This also is why they are frightening; because there has never been anything in humanity's existence that is more terrifying than uncertainty, and finding a lack of, in places that were once full.
Everything turns into:
"There was so much here, and now there is nothing."
Eventually, you start to only think about the specifics in life that were absent from you, and you even try to remeber things you know were never there.
This happens to everyone at some point, and most never understand it when it does.
And at best, you learn to not see people as a place to go.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
Jy wys nie die son vir 'n blinde wat weer kan sien nie.
Dis mos nou kinders-kry dan trou ,
'n priem baba se : Ek is lief vir jou.
Verby nog voor dit begin het.
Of is my hart nou wiegiedood wat
doodluiters my eie galg om die baba hang.
Breek ek die glas-skoen? voordat die lewe dit kan breek?
Of het ek nou maar oulaas 'n manier
om al die goeie goed - uit vrees
van stapel te stuur?
Ek kan jou volg... sal jou volg;
sou jou volg tot waar die wind ons waai
en saam jou kan ek... sal ek
sou ek heeldag rondomtalie en tiekiedraai,
maar *** gaan ek die onbekende in
as dit tussen my en die horison le?
My hartklop eikehout in die gang,
hy klop nog koud , maar hy klop nou!
En jy praat van altyd en van later en van dan:
verder selfs as wat my sig durf reik!
Jy is my nou.
Jammer dat ek more jou gister gaan wees;
probeer verstaan, ek verlang nog silwer en plooie
en die wereld is my lapdoek en die lewe is my lee papier
en ek wil groei.
Ek kan nie die trouring dra nie
,as hy nog koud aan my vinger kleef...
my hart is dalk nog prematuur ,
maar ek wil graag uitgan
en die koue skouers en spervure
vir my self gaan beleef.
Moet my nie die son wys nie
Ek leer nou eers *** om te sien...
en moet nie se jy is lief vir my nie,
want more is dit verby nog voor dit begin het.
En dan hang ek die priem.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
Tourists touring temples taking #selfies,
body’s there but souls not,
like Techno Ghosts back from the future,
not here to save the world just here to take a few shots,
but my body is my only temple,
and true enlightenment comes from the absence of Self,
so selfies seem silly to me,
in the same way as trying to wear pants 2 sizes to big without a belt,
or I guess a better analogy would be,
trying to wear a heavy belt without a buckle,
and that thought’s deep better yet heavy,
like Axel Rose those thoughts are heavy metal,
which makes sense especially if you’re an alchemist,
and believe what the Kyballion says about how everything’s metal,
yeah that’s heavy,
heavy as Heavy Metal rock,
being played by the US Army,
in Baghdad with the volume all the way up,
all the while spraying heavy metals,
in order to weigh down moral,
but what does any of this have to do with #selfies you ask,
well listen and I’ll tell you,
narcissist egos created this mess,
force used to push an agenda,
because when we’re too focused on our “selfs”,
we lose sight of the big picture,
like taking #selfies at temples,
and not seeing the beauty around you,
like drowning out the sounds of nature,
with the playlist on your iTunes,
it’s all kinda ironic isn’t it,
it’s tough having morals when complicit in any empire,
so I try and escape to exotic landscapes,
like Malagasy rainforests or Tibetan Temples,
but when I get there I find,
to my disappointing surprise,
a bunch of tourists on their phones,
only remotely living their lives…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 4:03 AM UTC
Behind that smile is a quivering mouth
Behind those eyes are tears being held back
Behind that kind joyful face is a sad depressed one
Behind the kind words are cries for help
Help from the darkness surrounding them
To not be ****** in like many others
To give them strength not to give up
To show them that theres more to it than sadness
To show that these horrible moments will pass and will soon be forgotten
Forgotten because they will be focusing on the joy in their lives
Not on the sorrowful
There is more to a person than what meets the eye
They seem to have everything together
They seem to have happy lives
They seem to never cry
Or to never think about the bad things going on
But behind it all
They lose everything
They have troubles at home
They cry them selfs to sleep every night
They always think about the bad things going on
Never letting them go
Never focusing on the good
Never enjoying the little things
Never smiling out of the public eye
Never getting close to anyone
Never letting anyone help them
Because they are afraid of getting hurt again
They are afraid of rejection, help, or even having fun.
Because whenever they do something comes up and they are back to being sad and depressed.
They are just waiting to be saved
Not even knowing that they are
They are loved without knowing it
They are thought of all the time
They matter the most to those they love
They are noticed
They are important without knowing
They are never forgotten.
Never.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 2:32 PM UTC
In die asemdroogtes van die nag
Word ek gebombardeer deur die warrelwinde van my ongesproke woorde
Wat ten laaste my hart van dolomiet versag
Skrapnel vlieg rond in die inner ruimtes van my gesonder verstand
In die geweldadige debat tussen die skynbare sinneloosheid van die Woord
En die gevoel van jou hand in myne
In geheim bou ek ń koningryk van lugkastele
Waarin jou beeld in elke kamer pronk.
Maar selfs díe verdwyn in die wasige misgordyn van dade
Waarvoor ek self nog swyg
Ten slotte:
Ek smag na jou...
-kammeraaddkap
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
Drome is gemaak om n lang nag interesant te maak.
Dis n sprokies verhaal van goeie dinge of selfs die slegte.
Van kastele en weelde, n lewe vele meer voor sal soek of selfs drome van cowboys en crooks met perde wat gallop op en af die berge, opsoek na diamante en gewere.
Dan is daar die nagmerries wat mens se hare laat rys, n skrik en n gesnik en wakker voor die wekker en n gewonder wat sopas gebeur het!
n Droom kan beloon, n droom kan verloon, n droom kan waarheid word dit hang af *** jy voel.
Egter klein bietjie raad van n nuwe jaar se digter… droom n droom, leef die oomblik met of sonder die donker nag, want n ware droom is oomblik van waarheid waaruit jy jou kastele kan bou in n ware sprokiesland vandag. 2016/01/26
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:42 AM UTC
We are but chromosomes
Away from
Knuckles upon the floor
Clothes,
Shoes,
Naked,
Bodies, hair upon all
Of us, we are only smarter
By fluke
**** erectus*
Neanderthal
Homo-sapiens
"Are we the next to fall"
Machines with thoughts
Able to move think for them selfs
Noughts
Zero's
Cognitive
Thought, realization that the
Creator is below the creation,
"Are we the masters of our own downfall"
We have reached the time
When one must progress
And the other becomes
A museum Piece attached to a wall,
*"Here is a Copy of **** sapiens"*
"Last breading pairs in the"
"Humanity Zoo"
There used to be billions
But know there are fewer
Than a hundred, a gene pool
Nearly extinct,
But cross breading is
A worthy course mixing
Human
With
Machine,
And so the time has come to pass,
That those that were on top
Are now the last on the bottom of
"The food chain"
There time came then passed..
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
Stilgebore in afwagting op
'n môreson uit die legendes.
Die hoopswyg net voor aanvarding
, wanneer selfs vader tyd verboureerd bly staan.
Die onvoldoende doods-uur
Tussen die hap van n gifgoue appel
En die val van onskuld en skoonheid.
Die tingel in die vingers
van die Engel in swart,
nóg genoeg om te gryp
-Nóg genoeg om te los
, net genoeg om in die huiwer te dros
Dus dood wat geduldig
die venster bewasem.
Trek drogbeelde uit skadu's
Soos n laaste asem...
Dis nog hier, nog daar-
Nog vals, nog waar
En ons almal is n kat in n doos
- wandelend in beide lewe en dood
, want die verskeie dimensies
Is maar eintlik grensloos.
Die paradoks van einste bestaan
Word gekonsentreer in n tydstip
Van alles verstaan.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
STOP!! I tell the Selfs;
The cacophony of voices.
Mine, Yours, His, Hers;
Who to obey & Who to deny?
Stop the Spirits of Past, Present, Future,
All accounted for, Loud and Clear!
Ironic lucidity amidst their discord;
Its subtly not lost in the Grand Scheme.
BREATHE!! I tell My Self;
Inhale the moment of truth,
Until the volume of Knowledge
All but bursts with its Clarity!
Breathe in the your lost Honesty,
Exhale pure veracity in the debut:
Awareness of Self, Soul, & Spirit;
Blunt in the Beauty and Brutality!
REMEMBER!! I remind My Self,
This very moment has Significance;
This very breath, this blink of an eye,
It’s Relevance to you is Now!
Remember the Person before you;
Your paths have crossed for a reason!
Their existence is pertinent to yours;
Only time revealing how and why.
BELIEVE!! I demand My Self,
In the inner girl, unsure of her worth,
Yet always full of unbound faith:
She would be Loved and Needed!
Believe in the inner woman, unsure of her worth,
With unconditional, genuine love to offer
At even the merest hint of sincere acceptance.
If only to forgive her awkward graciousness.
L. A. Armstrong-Houle
April 2nd, 2011
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 2:38 PM UTC