Wengedigte

Hopefulness consumes me

It’s a spider in my chest
It’s the feeling I know best
The spider makes its home
In everything that I know
The webbing makes me heave
But it’s helping me to breathe
Lays its eggs inside my heart
Forcing me to fall apart
Curls its legs around my soul
Where it might just make me whole

Onverwags

Sy son skyn
Duskant die berge
Die streep van goud
’n doellyn van my droom
Duidelik sigbaar
Maar steeds ontasbaar

My hande brand om hom te voel
En oë bloei om saam te lag
Stem hees van moontlikhede tel

Ek het lank gesmeek
Maar ’n antwoord is onverwags

Wag

Praat oor die weer
hou dinge eenvoudig
al maak dit seer
steek weg

Hoe was jou dag?
    ... sluit toe jou hart...
vra sy sag
    ... steek weg...
Loop met my
    ... dis te laat...
wees by my sy
    ... steek weg...

weg gesteek
nooit gevind
elders ontdek
gooi weg.

You, Me and The Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves dance with the wind
The sky is decked with orange, green and red
A man walks with a skip and a whistle
Such a joyful fellow he is on such a day,
A day where no one can keep death at bay.

The leaves fall but they grow back again
How come no one misses them?
Do the trees ever weep when the wind blows by,
Blowing all their friends, children in the sky?
of course they weep, just not for a long time

When a mother loses her child, husband, father,
It's not long before they seem somewhat...fine

How easily people are excused for causing another pain
The heart and body all the same
Does the wind ever feel guilty about the crimes he had to commit?
Did it want to? Was it forced to?
Or was it just out of habit?

As the trees grow older with age,
do they learn more, or do they feel trapped as if in a cage?
Do they ever dream of bigger things,
Wishing to be cut down and rearranged?
What horror have they seen,
Unfathomable to the human mind?
Or are they just like you and me,
Clueless to what the world may hide?

What secrets do the wind carry?
Secrets that have never been shared,
Promises that have been broken,
Secrets that should be shared,
but people are too scared
That no one would care
or care too much.

The man walking in between the trees,
The one that most likely gave up on his dreams,
but still seems happy and content
Did he know where he could have gone
if his time was well spent?
Maybe he lived his life well
but who am I to tell.

Maybe he's the wind
Maybe he's the trees
He could be the leaves
or maybe he's just like you and me
Still waiting to discover his identity.

He might be older but perhaps not as wise
Maybe he's just like all of us,
just needing to open his eyes.

“Klim nou op, op die keel
Waar seekoue jou streel
Jou geheue moet jy verhard
Want hier word jou lewe gevat

Moet nie skag laat buig nie
Al wil storms nie swyg nie
Jy het van vrouens liefde verwerf
Daar kom wel ‘n dag, wat elk moet sterf”