Almal moet hul hol self af vas, met hul uie hande.
[ Translation : Everyone must wipe their own buttocks, with their own hands. -// Afrikaaps is an Idiomatic Language. The monoku basically means : one has to take responsibility for one’s own problems. This translation here is a direct English translation, which does not translate the meaning. ]
Lat ons nou gou speel
die dondewee gan kom
en wragtig lek die dak
hemel is baie kwaad
ons hettie die mielies geplant nie
rondloopers loop rond sonne werk
hulle krap nou in da blikke
hulle se Tromp gan mal
wiet daai mense nie alles
is so uitgesit
ag nee, ja ! ons moet nou pwasa
_________________________
[English Translation]
Let us do our work quickly
thunder is on its way
and the roof leaks
heaven is quite angry
we did not plant the corn
the homeless are walking
around without work
they are bin scratching
saying Trump is going mad
don’t those people know
everything is so defined ?
aah no, yes ! we need to fast now
TIME FOR CHAMPAGNE
Louis Roederer will do great
Moet and Chandon is okay
No Prosecco can be served here
Only the very best will do
Pol Roger will be fine with me
Nette Onclaud, Time For Champagne, 12 June 2025
Laurent-Perrier cuvée brut,
Moet et Chandon follows suit,
Nicolas Feuillatte: brand is moot!
Only Krug is banned (too much loot).
Pommery, you will agree, is beaut!
we found it uncomfortable
to hear him rant.
we found it less considering to
try to understand his logic
his disposition
and even his words.
" YOU HAVE A FAMILY
I THINK YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
I DON'T LIKE YOU
AND YOUR BUSINESS IS MY BUSINESS
AND WHAT BRINGS US TOGETHER
IS THAT YOUR RESEARCH IS FOR ME: ( PAUSING TO LAUGH)
YOUR WORK SHALL BE MINE
ALL YOUR LABORS ARE IN VAIN,
SEE YOU MAY BE WEALTHY, BUT I'M THE BOSS
YOU FOLLOW MY ORDERS, AND EVERY THING WILL BE FINE,
CALL IT BULLYING: OR A MEASURE OF DISCONTENT
WHAT LACKS EMOTION OFTEN BRINGS PEOPLE TO BE LESS
CONSIDERATE, YOU WEALTHY PEOPLE NEED TO UNDERSTAND
YOU CAN' AFFORD NOT TO GIVE ME WHAT I WANT
AND YOU CAN'T AFFORD NOT TO DO WHAT I SAY
I'M THE FREAKIN BOSS HERE!"
IT TOOK EIGHT MEN IN TUXEDO'S TO GET THIS MAN OUT OF THE
BANQUET HALL.
WE WERE HAVING A GREAT TIME DANCING AND SHARING THYMES TOGETHER AND
THIS JERK CAME IN DEMANDING THE PLANS AND THE CASH FROM
MR. JEHOSHAPHAT, HE LOOKED SCARED AND COWARD DOWN TO HIM
UNTIL MY HUSBAND TOOK THE SITUATION AND BOUGHT A LEVEL OF DIGITY TO THIS CARTOONISH JERK!
Wie waak oor ons gans die wakkernag?
Vind sondes.lank vergete
n aanklag eggo in die gewete
Dalk net stank demone
Wat slaaploos toi-toi in talle drome
Watter wekker skrik sy meester kaal
Wyl hy rondtol.in n lakenhel?
Skape, pennies en sy woorde tel
Of plak gebede saam met drome vas
Teen blank plafonne en die linnekas?
En ook skimme wat eens mense was
n vingerskrif op die klagstaat straf
Ander sluimer niksbeduidend
Wereld werk nog steeds misleidend
Introspeksie hou het geen verband
Onwelkom het net ingekom
Soos infeksie in n agtertand
Prokureur teem onbeholpe
'k kort n advokaat
n leuenverklikker wat moet wèèt waarvan hy praat
Opgetof en opgetoga en n omkoopmagistraat
Sinies en insomnies
naghof ronddool in n doodloopstraat
Wie sake uitgooi maar dan skelm uitstel
Weereens more ons beroof van geld en slaap
Twintig tien tot nou
So vinnig soos jy inwurm… in troosprys vlees-genot
..en dink dat dit so lank sal hou; Pasop vir toekoms lot!
En as ek dan verkeerd mag wees – bewys dit dat jy het
presies gedoen wat ek kon sien; Die fout was niè ons bed!
As ek die feite reg verstaan; en my gedagtes dwaal
na daardie tyd toe hy besluit; my by my werk kom haal –
en saam met ons… aan tafel sit – selfs oorslaap vir die nag…
Die legkaartstuk ontbloot aan my…: dat jy hom toè al smag!
En effens met die tyd verloop; steeds in ons ou verhaal.
(Dit was daai aand wat èk weg was) jou skandes jou inhaal.
Gesê dat dit ‘n hoorsê was…; jy hom nie aan wou raak…
Twee jaar later, facebook wys…, jul foto amper naak!
Nou sê jy my dat ek verbrou en jou wou agterlaat?
Terwyl die laaste legkaartstuk jou sondes teen my haat
wil ek probeer om aan te gaan…; my lewe op te bou
in plaas daarvan om blindelings my drang te onderhou.
Ek draai my rug finaal op jou, maak jy maar soos jy moet.
Mag hy jou gelukkig maak. Mag jy hom alles gee.
Ek was my hand onskuldig met - my vredevol’ gemoed
terwyl ek dan die laaste traan…; hier van my wang af vee.
Skeiding
Al meer en nog meer is donkerder mure
‘n verskynsel wat opspring hier reg voor my oë
Tussen die hede en eensame ure
weet ek die skeiding is nog nie genoë
Veg ek en poog ek om daardeur te kom
vind ek is daar nie ‘n deurang rondom.
Verlangend na iets wat met my moet gebeur
tas ek maar steeds leer ek niks nie daardeur
Spring oor, laat ek aan die ander kant val
my hare en tande die stof ingeklem
my lyf oor die muur hang, ek’s seker ek sal
aanhou en nie meer probeer om te rem
Hoor jy my stik!
Of is die muur dalk te dik?
Verlore tegniek
Waar is die dae, toe ek nog kon soen?
Wie het geweet wat die storie sou kos?
Hoeveelste doelwit het ek weer gemis?
Hoekom het ek dan maar altyd verloor?
Waar is my roem en my rykdom dan heen?
Wie was die dief in die nag wat my roof?
Liefde se ore is nou vir my doof!
Waar is die dae toe ek “Ek kan” kon sê
Nou is dit net “Ek kon” wat ek nog kan sê
Besef hoe my skematiese lewensstyl
‘n stylvolle lewe - maar soekend - verspul
My dae was getel, en vir altyd verkul
Geen iets van niks, het meer waarde as nul
Sal ek van vooraf moet se “Ek kan weer”?
Het al die “Kan nie’s" my dalk iets geleer?
Die Marionet
Daar voor op die verhoog
So ewe droog.
Die Marionet
Met die Meester se stem
So, asof getem.
Die Marionet
Geen wil van sy eie
Het hy ‘n getuie?
Die Marionet?
Hy dans darem en sing
Hy is ‘n snaakse ding.
Jy weet mos
Aan toutjie van gena’
Niks wat hom pla
Moet ek weer?
Met die meester se mag
Het almal gelag
Vir die pop
As die vertoning verby is
Opgesluit in ‘n kis...
DIE MARIONET
It Feels Right
Come here, let me talk to you!
I know you got a man but
let me show you something true!
I love your sassy attitude!
The way you strut confidently
yet so humble and subdued
I'll caress your face!
Have you doing things you shouldn't,
alone in my place.
I'll bite your lower lip!
Hand prints on that ass
as I tease you with the tip.
Love music to match,
I'll hit your hot spots
watch you giggle and laugh.
I will treat you right,
Engaged in the chase
for more than just tonight.
Always keep you lookin' good!
Prince of your temple
you can call me robin hood.
I'll shower you with love!
Mulberry bubble bath
your body fits me like a glove!
I've got your body so relaxed!
Sexy moans serenade and
I'm becoming more attached!
Oh, what you like it rough!
I'll take you to the pinnacle
have you screaming that's enough!
Tell me about your past!
I want to get to know you,
put your heart on blast.
Intoxicated, you taste like Moet!
Scratch marks on my back,
dug deeper the further I get!
You've got me stronger than bamboo!
sweat soaked and falling hard
into a situation so taboo!
Jared L. Pickett
8/13/2014
Asavvy1
Die menslike toestand is
inherente kloustrofobia
Saampersing van my eie
ruimte maak my heel
Ek sal my ingewande met
die hand uit ruk om
alleen te wees
Kranksinnigheid rol deur
die sfeer
Verwerp omdat ek die
toue sien
'n Droom ongedaan
gemaak deur my stilte
Dat ek die outonome
moet insak en nie meer
jou aanraking moet ken
nie
Ek voel niks behalwe 'n
tekort aan ruimte
Die paradox van
sosialisering veroorsaak
my gyseling
Ryp met vyandelikheid
Wat veroorsaak al die
haat binne my
If you were a kiss
You would be passion
If you were a dress
You’d be high fashion
If you were a pop song,
You would be number one
If you were an Olympian
You would be champion
If you were a star
You’d be the brightest
If you were a caress
You’d be the lightest
If you were a drink
You would be Moet
If you were a joke
You would be funny
If you were a flower
You would be exotic
If you were a dance
You would be erotic
If you were unmarried
You would be quite free
If you were so inclined
You could then marry me
Remembering all of those late nights seeing
the shadows of your silhouette.
My heart begins to pound like a
damsel indistress.
Blood streaming through my veins like a nice flow of
champane called 'Moet'.
Losing one's breathe with each beat,
indiscret with hope that once again we will
meet.
Sweat drippin from the romantic evation,
Yelling out from seeing the contour of the man's
persuasion.
Tossing and turning into one's deminsion,
Feeling like a school girl going to detention,
In remission of one's own submission.
Only time will tell the tale
When time is on time.
Time is not blind to the necked eye,
Only time is blind to no time.
Awakening from an enchanted scene,
Looking for ones king,
Seeing the stars bling,
Just to sing into a memory....
Of a lover's dream.
Tiffany Saxon
Rancid rancor
From a pungent poet
Sipping fermented anger
From a shoe of Moet
Caustic climax
Of a pernicious plot
Spilling into the holes
Of his soul’s rot
Lathered Laces
In a fuming froth
Tying her infidelity
In a knotted troth
Twisted tongue
Beneath a bedeviled bog
Silenced by frayed fingers
Beneath a drunken fog
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.