Hier is die gedig wat ek geskryf het na jou ma se dood. Ek kan nie onthou of ek dit ooit vir jou gegee het en of jy dit nog het nie. In elk geval ek gaan nou al my ou gedigte deur en gedink ek sal dit graag weer met jou wil share:
Ek dink ek is ‘n verlore engeltjie
Ek was stout en my vlerkies het afgebreek,
nou’s ek stuck op die aarde (of so iets)
maar ek is nie spyt nie.
Ek het jou ontmoet en deur jou
het ek geleer oor true friendship.
My ma sê die Here verwag dat ons alles wat
Hy vir ons gegee het tot ons volle
potensiaal moet gebruik, so here goes:
Hier is vir jou ‘n drukkie
Warm en vol liefde
Hier is vir jou ‘n skouer
om op te huil;
om jou moeë kop op te rus.
Hier is vir jou ‘n handjie
om vas te hou
Wat ek uitsteek na jou
om jou op te help
as jy jou knieë nerf-af val.
Hier is vir jou ‘n oor
om al jou diepste geheime in te fluister.
Hier is vir jou ‘n mond met ‘n zip
‘n bewys dat jy my met jou geheime kan vertrou.
Hier is vir jou ‘n glimlag
‘n bewys dat ek jou las met jou deel.
Hier is vir jou ‘n oog
om veral as die lewe hard op jou druk
Nog steeds die klein dingetjies
in die lewe raak te sien en dankbaar te wees.
Hier is vir jou ‘n voetspoor
wat saam met jou die
kronkelpad van die lewe sal stap.
Haha ek sien nou ook wat ek geskryf het:
“Ek het nie altyd al die antwoorde soos proffie Stephanie nie, ek sal my bes prober en ek glo dat “everything happens for a reason”. Wat die rede is vind ons eers verdomp later uit, “but sometimes it’s worth waiting for”.
Yesterday I went for my first and probably my last full body massage. Mel, my colleague, gave me a voucher for my birthday that I could spend on a massage.
First of all, I did not know it would be a full body massage. I just wanted someone to massage my neck and shoulders.
Secondly, I didn’t know it was supposed to hurt so much. I think the masseuse gave me a few bruises!
Thirdly, I tried my bestest to relax, but it’s kinda hard to do that when someone is torturing the hell out of you. I kept wondering if she was going to end up walking on me – like in the movies.
Please take note: I’m one of those really pathetic people that’ll rather suffer through the pain than say “Ouch!” I once had blisters above my eyes because the wax was too hot when I had my eyebrows waxed.
When she started up my legs towards my thighs, I wanted to burst out laughing because I kept thinking about what the comedian, Michael McIntyre, said about his first full body massage experience. He was staying in a hotel just before a show and was a little stressed out about it. His wife suggested to try out a full body massage at the hotel spa, because it is supposed to be very relaxing. Well, he went and it was nothing but. He said every time the masseuse went up his thighs he had a near heart ache because her hands kept going “dangerously close to my balls”.
The music was soothing I’ll admit and when she didn’t press too hard it was nice. I just kept thinking how the hell does this woman expect me to fall asleep???
I think the first time I relaxed is when she told me it was over. Phew!
Today I went off to the library in search of a copy of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” and Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein. Apparently “Frankenstein” is not in circulation yet – YET? – and all the copies of “Dracula” are missing. Hmmm, it must be a really special book to be missing then.
My trip to the library also got me thinking – how many people still go to a public building to take out a physical book? How long will libraries still exist? I’m probably the only young adult that still does this.
The thing is… I pretty much grew up in a library. I still remember my first books that I took out was just picture books with a single word printed on them. Then going through the phase of reading books with pictures to books with only words in them. The library I grew up in is like my second home. My escape from reality.
Now I also remember seeing “Dracula” in Exclusive books or was it Graffiti or Bargain Books. I should have bought it…
Now I’m googling it… some of these covers are really disturbing…
I went through all my old poems and came upon this one. If I only knew when I wrote it (in 2004) I would have a cat of my own some day…
Klein en soepel met skerp-tand-mond
loop hy kop in die lug rond.
As hy hasepad kies – is hy gou weg.
Kan rats mure klim en met naels veg.
Vir ‘n kat krap hy sy naels aan bome
nuwe begin – altyd op nuwe trone.
Hy’s oulik, sag en liefdevol
hy laat my hart sommer in die rondte tol!
I’ve recently decided I’m going to put all of my poems that I’ve written thus far in a volume called “dada 4 nonsense”. Even if it’s just for me and no one else will ever see it. Except maybe close friends and family. Who knows? I have all the material – I just have to put it together now.
Life at work hasn’t been that great lately – I keep getting in trouble for the smallest, silliest things. I’m also surprised every time that my boss doesn’t fire me or at least give me a warning. I’m pretty sure she wants to strangle me about now. I’d probably be the reason why she’ll get her first grey hair at the age of 30.
Anyway, I’ve recently discovered something amazing! I started playing this game last night “Alice: Behind the glass” about Alice in Wonderland and everywhere in the game there are interesting facts. One thing I’ve learnt that’s really interesting:
A real girl was the inspiration for the book! Lewis Carroll wrote “Alice in Wonderland” for the dean’s daughter at the school he taught. Her name was Alice Pleasance Liddle. On Jthe 4th of July in 1862 while in a rowing boat he started entertaining her and her two sisters with what would have become the story of Alice in Wonderland. She asked him to write it down for her. After a few months he presented her with the manuscript of “Alice’s Adventures Under Ground” in November 1864. The second book followed “Through the looking glass and what Alice found there”.
She does feature though in an acrostic poem at the end of “Through the Looking Glass”. Reading downward, taking the first letter of each line spells out Liddell’s full name.
A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July–
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear–
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die.
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream–
Lingering in the golden gleam–
Life, what is it but a dream?
Plan of Attack
Bully for Ukraine
You have the right to be forgotten.
An apology would be a start.
killing it softly
Titles taken from Time magazine Issue: May 26, 2014
Titles (2 or 3?) I can’t remember
Christians and Tyrants
Luckless down under
Take that, Taliban!
To the dogs.
Why Obama hit Pause.
Make like a Panda
Gone to the beach
“Yeah, you betcha!”
I know today is the 22nd, but I wrote this yesterday.
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,
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
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?
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.
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!”