24 April 2014 Napowrimo

Titles (2 or 3?) I can’t remember

 

Christians and Tyrants

Luckless down under

Take that, Taliban!

To the dogs.

Why Obama hit Pause.

unholy choices

 

Make like a Panda

Bearly human

Gone to the beach

“Yeah, you betcha!”

21 April 2014 Back to Napowrimo

I know today is the 22nd, but I wrote this yesterday.

 

I cry…

crying banshee

I cry because I’m alone

I cry because my life is stuck in a rut

and there’s no way to get out.

 

Choices is what made us.

“The good things that I want to do, I don’t do,

but the awful things that I don’t want to do, that I do.” *

 

I cry because I cannot go back

and I cannot move forward

because I keep looking back.

 

I cry because I don’t belong here

I cry because I have nothing,

no one to share it with.

 

I cry because time waits for no man.

I cry because I only know what I’ve lost,

when it’s truly gone.

 

I cry for the missed opportunities,

missed lessons.

I cry because of my stubbornness.

 

I cry because I can’t look myself in the mirror.

I cry because I can’t stop hurting myself.

I cry because I can’t tell anyone without

being labelled crazy.

 

I cry because I’m a beautiful mess.

I cry because no one will ever get to see that.

 

I cry because you laugh at me.

I cry because no one understands me.

I cry because I’m trying too hard to impress you.

 

I cry for the pain

and sweet bliss

of this world.

 

But most of all: I cry because

this is the only world I know.

 

*the quote is a rough translation from the Afrikaans Romans 8:19

12 April – 13 April 2014 Napowrimo

 

Ouma Alice (Alet) Linde

Ouma Alice (Alet) Linde

My grandmother died last night

 

My grandmother died last night.

I did not know.

My aunt sent me a message:

“I’m sorry your grandmother died”.

I was like: “What?

No way!”

 

I did not want to believe it

I did not want to go home

I tried to dance the night away,

but instead I cried my eyes out.

 

I came home.

I did not want the night to end.

I did not want to face the truth

I did not want to see my dad’s face.

 

I want to dedicate this post to my grandmother, Alice Linde. She was the real poet in the family. She gave me this poem to keep in my Bible.

 

REMINISCENCE

As I look back on my childhood days

it fills me with awe, and I stand amazed

How the Lord in His goodness provided for me

And taught me the best is yet to be.

In 1931, I was but four,

My parents, divorced, could care for me no more

So my mother accompanied me by train

To an orphanage, St Faiths, in Bloemfontein.

I can still remember that very night

when my mother disappeared from sight

How can I describe the tears I shed

Before someone came and put me to bed.

If only parents could realise

How their actions appear before God’s eyes

For it’s their children who beak the pain

when the vows they make are disobeyed.

As I grew older, I felt something amiss,

no one to hug me, or give me a kiss

So in thought I would climb up on Jesus’ knee

with my head on His breast He whispered to me:

“I love you my child,  – you belong to ME”

From there on I could go to Him in prayer

all my fears and joys with Him I could share

For my Guardian Angel stands watch over me,

It’s so reassuring, it fills me with glee,

And I know through His Word

The best is yet to be.

A. E. Linde – Nov 1995

Dear Grandma Alet

You no longer have to feel any pain and have to hope that the best is yet to be, because now you are where you always belonged  – “on Jesus’ knee”. You disappeared so quickly from our sight so sudden I’m still filled with shock, but I’m glad I got to know you – even though you could make me so mad at times! I somehow wish I could join you in heaven, but for now I can hold onto this hope: “The best is yet to be!”

RIP

Sulet Linde

11 April 2014 Napowrimo

Just read through my previous poems – Not bad. Not bad at all. Anyway, here’s today’s:

 

Return of the Taliban

“We own this country”

Money talks.

The Competitor

No 1 with a bullet

Great Society.

I got the titles from Time magazine, Issue: April 14, 2014

10 April 2014 Napowrimo

Just when I thought I cannot write another DADA poem any more, I got a great idea! Why not take all the titles in the magazine and make a poem out of that? Brilliant idea!

Titles

The Party faithful

Repent

Tit-for-tat

mail-safe

Pluto’s little siblings:

Rise of the Mumps.

No safe smoke

Paragon of hate

A Time to Cry

What India wants

The King and O

No more broken promises.

Head trip.

The Last days of Mad Men

O Captain!

Let there be Night

Lorde Almighty

Man of Steal

Seeds of change

Thanks, but mostly no Thanks.

I got these titles from a Time magazine (where else?) Issue April 7, 2014.

9 April 2014 Napowrimo Dada poem

How I write a DADA poem:

I take an article

Read it.

Underline words that pop out

Scramble them,

mix them up

And put them together

again in a new puzzle.

8 April 2014

I didn’t have internet access last night, so I’m posting yesterday’s poem today.

 

(untitled)

wizardry retrofitting

tombstone mentality

dearth dawdle

patchwork earth

falling through the cracks

line of sight

paper plane

avionics

7 April 2014 “1984 = 2014″

1984 = 2014

 

The Russians

came rushing in

landgrab

black sea beaches

backwater dependent

monitoring

shopping habits.

 

I’m not insinuating that the Russians per se are at fault or that they really did something in 1984. What I mean with 1984 is that I’m referring to George Orwell’s novel “1984″ and I only mention Russians because the article I got the words from was about the Russians wanting to take over Crimea in the Ukraine.

The 2014 means that it is still happening today “monitoring shopping habits” is becoming really real with Facebook ads and new phone GPS apps like iBeacon that for example will remind you of an item on your shopping list whenever you are in the right aisle (which is pretty ingenious and scary at the same time!).

There. I hope I haven’t offended anyone. And if I did – sorry.

Wait! It’s still 6 April

(untitled) 

the powers that be

earned their swagger.

Underdog, hard-nosed,

in-your-face-basket

multimillionaire

 

white against black

I could. Not. Breathe.

gobsmacked

“What size tutu do you wear?”

 

viral meme

Mourning got a piece. 

Something blew.

foul or no foul?

might just be the one.

 

Cinderella saved her invitation to the dance.

 

 

Phew! That was close. See if you can guess what the poem is about!

WTF! This can’t be a poem! Fail!

6 April 2014

 

funny phrases

 

“take your ears on vacation”

“sound tourism”

“avalanche sand singing”

 

“wear our doctors”

 

“Mr Peanut”

 

“power strips”

“surveillance cameras as heads”

 

“slow roasted honey baked ham”

 

“light painting”

“funny pages”

 

“HTML is an STD”

 

“I want to take in the hood and meditate”

“Rush particular brand of Angel dust”

“I slept in the street”.

 

This poem consists of phrases that caught my eye in the Time magazine (as you can gather, I like to read the Time magazine a lot and I’m using it as inspiration for Napowrimo). So sue me!

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