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Nigel Morgan Jun 2013
for Susan*

He stood there in the card shop
finding it hard to decide
between a Chinese rose,
a flock of starlings,
a river scene in summer . . .

They all had printed blank inside
upon their cellophane wrappers.

He felt blank inside
when it came to words.

How do you say
(after twenty-six years)
I love you,
with that tremor and thrill
he remembered when,
stopping the car
between Holt and the sea,
he had looked into those still
jade green eyes, and told her so.

So he choose Tropical Birds in a Landscape
Jan van Kessel the Elder (1628-79).

It was Chaucer’s Technicolor Dream.
 A Parliament of Fowles no less
who *welcome somer, with your sonne softe,
Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte,
Sith ech of hem recovered hath hys make
Ful blissful mowe they synge when they awake.
Ek die lieplapper
Fladder in die wind
Soos ń herfs betaste blaar
Wat in die dwarrelwinde
Tolbos en die reels
Van swaartekrag verag

My kop is op ń blok gesit
Soos die twee vir ń stywers
Wat inner kompaste volg
Na waar die hart mag lei
Sterk oppad na iewers
Maar word deur nikse
En nerense verlydelik gefly

My V formasie vervorm
, vlieg vêr vooruit
Tot waar ek sig verloor
Van veilige jolheid.
Ek verkoop my vryvlieg siel
Aan die voëlwip en sy wag
Onbewus van die somer
Wat oor die waters op my wag.

Ekt my siel verkoop aan
Die winterson...
Prysgegee, môre se geluk
Die stofwolk op die Horison

Môre trap jy oor my
Windverstrooide oorblyfsels
En neurie ń afskeidslied
In jou binnenste.
Jy koester dalk ń traan
Of twee.
Vir die gees van ń
herfsblaar lieplapper
Wat in selfverwyt besterwe
Ottar Oct 2013
I

He grimaced while flexing forth,
the Hulk he was channeling, going North,
blonde crew cut, making a spectacle while
                                       wearing glasses
he wore a black tank, with no sleeves,
while the wind teased the leaves with a breeze,
and they fallsaulted (somer is over)
                             across the concrete at his feet,
                             it was all about him on the street,

                                       his handler, his care giver,
                                       watched with a shiver as
                                      as she had him and two
                                      others to deliver to their
                                      destination on foot, crime
fighting would delay the journey
                                                    and she was not sure who would
                end up on the gurney if it all went awry.  

                                              II

Short time later, as they passed by, gone, the other part of the duo
                                                             ­                                            arrived
she walked with swagger, in heels and no stumbles or missed steps,
                                                          ­                                       not quite a stagger,
dressed in black with jet-black hair, she was part ninja,  
part tim-bit monster,
or at least her appetite was,
the box of forty sat on her shoulder and she was delighted
by eating
them one at at time, her confident stride and petite feet,
stuck in almost stiletto heels acting,
very intuitive, see how she feels,
that kind of hero, because if she had to from fifty paces,
she could take out your eye with a honey crueler tim-bit
don't be fooled by
her ambivalent smile, and toss of her hair, those spoke of
caution and beware, as she stuffed another in there,
where she smiled while her eyes twinkled, kept moving her feet,
                   I think she spotted me from fifty paces,
                               away and from my second story window,
                                                it was curtains for me, I closed my eyes and braced for impact,
                                                         ­                                                           which never came,
                                                           ­                                                         as to her shame,
                                                          ­                                                          see even heroes
                                                          ­                                                          don't share
                                                           ­                                                         all the time.


No more heroes walked by that day,
crime rates were down and children were
                                      able to play
                        and be safe, so as my final thought
                      from my view on the second floor,
                          never under estimate anyone,
for real or in fun, and their capacity to bring joy, even without sharing.



©DWE102013
Tim-bit -a Tim Horton's donut center you know, what causes a donut hole...this was not intended to insult; any food franchises, male or female real life super heroes, or PDBH (Public Displays of Being Human), I am not in whole or in part, affiliate the Tim Horton's nor do benefit from mentioning their business name or products
Rowan Deysel Aug 2019
Op hierdie aarde, groen en blou
Met torings wat die lug uit grou
In elke huis waar mens dalk bly
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
In wye winkels en krom kerke
In nommers en vergete merke
Waar ryk sweef en arm lei
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
In stede, woude, see en woestyn
In alles, geen, grof en fyn
In luuks, skaars, bont en plein
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
In winter, lente, somer, herfs
Met albei vuur en skadu bederf
Waar ook al maan en son mag skyn
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
Waar sterre sing en sonne lag
Omring met komberse van die nag
Waar ou gode en planete gly
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
In ou legendes en sprokies verhale
In dooie sang en in lewende tale
In woorde wat die hart oop sny
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
In gister se groot verlate vlug
In môre se onmeetbare sug
In die nou wat ons so graag vermy
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
In slaap te dig en drome swart
In die wandel en wonder van die hart
In seer, troos, kwaad en bly
Sal ek nooit weer iemand kry soos jy
Robert C Ellis Apr 2016
Welded 7 tomes and wrapped sacrament paper about the very thing; Somer tomes,
soldered to sacrifice and daylight running as
mercury off of adam’s bones honed to a south American river peak; Invenerate mammalia rollicking atop
she shocked herself to see another sun light in the blinds.;  
He mended caverns and she hung across them, strung out.
Johan Nel Aug 2020
Vind jou vrede
Verder as die skerm Woede
'n Skelm van tyd en rus
Voor jy kyk het jy die lewe gemis

Vind jou vrede in die bed
Jou kooi se drome
In winter en somer some
Dit is waar jy tyd vashou in jou hand

Vind jou vrede in wat is
'n Lewe in 'n dop bewus
Een wat kyk en ervaar
Een wat jy moet bewaar

Vind jou vrede in die hede
Soos toekoms uit die verlede
Uit pyn en leed
Kom daar verlossing steeds
© Johan Nel 2020.08.30 17:32
Lukas Collin Mar 2019
Goodbye,
I am gone.

My emotions are gone,
they left me when i truly needed them.
My own parents don't care
People hate me

I can see it now,
the hate in their eyes.
They way they don't care about me.

I'm starting to believe my thoughts.

cut,cut,cut
The thoughts are drowning me
die,die,die

Why not die?
Why not cut so deep I hit a vein.

"No one even loves you!"
"Jump off a bridge"
"You're a failure,"

They are right I am worthless.
Why stay alive. I see no point anymore.

I am sorry for those I hurt.
for those you really did care
but I cannot stay here anymore.

Everyone wants to tare me apart.
Let them take me.
I don't care.
**** me please,
set me free

now I am in my darkest hour.
No one is here to save me.
Not Winter,
Not Somer
Not Olli,
Not Cassidy.

I do not deserve to be alive.
So tonight when I let go.
I do not want anyone to weep over me.
Do not think about me,

I wish I could have stayed longer,
but 15 years is enough for me..
goodbye everyone,

Thank you..

— The End —