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...

A warm sensation fills my body
my heart race with every touch
the softness of your voice soothes
my soul
as i lay there hoping the moment
will never end
calling out for you
praying that you never let me go
the sensation so strong
i can no longer feel my body
slowly i fade in and out or reality
in an instant the warm sensation
fades away
my heart empty
my soul torn apart
lying there, wondering wete i went
wrong
calling out for you, only to find
there is no answer
my mind invades with thoughts
so cruel and unrefined
the sensation of fear of whats to come
slowly the reality over powering
the lust and fantasy
leaving me empty
confused on how to think or feel
the loneliness i feel
so wretched and compelled.
betrayal to myself
revealing the terrors of my love.

Daar's 'n droogte in Namakwaland
Daar's 'n droogte by die see
Droogte skeil in  Weste-winde
Wat oor ons mense vee
En as ons in ons diepstes
met ons gewete oorleg pleeg
merk ons ook die droogte
wat deur ons jeug beweeg

Geen meer: "jammer oom"; dis als net jy en jou
Weg -die dae van asseblief; dis "gee dit vir my nou"
Vergeet die ring, dis uit my ding, niks gewag totdat jy trou
dis oopmondkou , dis sharrap nou, 'n treurspel om te aanskou

en ek as buitestander, van die leuens en van die leed
ek kan rus met die wete, daar is 'n tent vir my gereed

I get tempted to call but she wants nothing to do with me
Id like to hear the siund of her voice
I fell in love now she dont want to friends
I was good and things came to an end
My intensions wete good
Now im left feeling like im no good
I dont want just anyone
Getting my life together so I can be someone
It just ***** how you love someone who is great
Settle for less aim low but thats on her

By: Cedric McClester

It wasn’t made up no it was real
Can’t you see ‘em can’t you feel
The ghosts of those whose last meal
Was fed at Auschwitz no appeal
Death by labor or by disease
Or the gassed air that they breathed
While the whole world was deceived
By what they could not believe

I hear the echoes of the dead
From Auschwitz where people fed
Gas ovens whose secrets are said
To dot the path of human dread

The air was musty the train car cramped
That took ‘em to the concentration camp
Before the process was revamped
They were crudely housed tattooed or stamped
And they were sent there both night and day
One million plus from what they say
Human lives wete thrown away
While we all looked the other way

God made us all in any case
There’s no such thing as a master race
That kind of thinking is out of place
And must be discouraged when it’s in our face

I hear the echoes of the dead
From Auschwitz where people fed
Gas ovens whose secrets are said
To dot the path of human dread

Their liberators could not believe
The level of the suffering that they relieved
To them it was diabolically conceived
By a people who were evil or naïve
How could a human being do to another
The kinds of things that they discovered
Then think that it wouldn’t be uncovered
Ot that the evidence could be smothered

God made us all in any case
There’s no such thing as a master race
That kind of thinking is out of place
And must be discouraged when it’s in our face

I hear the echoes of the dead
From Auschwitz where people fed
Gas ovens whose secrets are said
To dot the path of human dread




























      
      
      
      
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

Jif,Skippy,Nutty ,Cashew and otbers wete eating acorns.
The aroma and  sounds of  shells hitting tbe wet grass alerted them
They looked at me and took the nuts
Some eating
While others climbing up trees with shelled nuts in their.mouths
Before you poo poo this
We support charities and care
These adoreable creatures saw me through the last four difficult years
Now,more smiles and hope for better times ahead
Til next week little ones