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
Enough Already
Miracle Man
2/4/2022
I make no attempt in hiding how I feel,
*I have just watched my umpteenth Medicare speel.
Thanks to old actors, jocks, and assorted jerks,
our mute button's broken and no longer works.
* Since the start of the year. LOL
Speech and Speel
Have heard each politicians' speech and spiel
About them how are we supposed to feel
And do truly believe in without a doubt
Understanding what they are talking about.
There has appeared to be so much wrath
And in all of it we will be taking a bath
While tooting horns and on them blow
On your patience they do grow and grow.
Trump is sitting in his tower hour by hour
Over everything he has control and power
And sometimes you may hear him stammer
May have glamor but uses poor grammar.
Room for him to improve must be found
Listen to Trump's voice hearing each sound
Whether far away or can be close and near
Hope we hear him distinctly loud and clear.
Jim Horn
Verdwyn
Gespruit en toe vergete met gewete van papier
Besluit te neem om als te los wat hierso agter bly
Eers drie; toe een; toe twee; toe vier
Die som van toekomsblik vir jou - maar eerder meer vir my
Die aand was koud en hunkring sterk sou waardes my verpas
Uitnodigend - en kort voor lank was jy my warm jas
Maar soos ‘n fondament bly ek die een wat agterbly
Ek doen en werk verwagtend want die vrug het my verly
As steunpilaar vir jare nog, sou ek die las moes dra
Vergete hoe die woeker-nag my meer as dit sou vra
Ons oes is nou die vrugte van die saad van liefdesdaad
Jou jas in my kas wil nie meer pas – ‘n las bly inderdaad
Eers twee, toe vier; toe drie dan een
Jou beurt die anker rol te speel, wyl ek die winter nag alleen
tot in die lente steeds sal wees – al is die kinders ook by my
Groei my enigheid tot bo, waar die Wysheid met sy hulp my lei.
Eensaam
Daai eensame man speel weer op sy kitaar
Sy lewe is vuil en skoon deurmekaar
Hy bly by ‘n murasie, maar dalk amper nie
En eensame voëls in die lug wat nog vlie’
Die drankbottels lê om hom, dis net waar jy kyk
Hy lewe, maar lyk soos ‘n lewende lyk
Van daeraad tot skemer – knaag dit aan sy lewer
die vrae van opregtes wat sondes ontwyk
Die wereld vergaan sels al is hy gedaan
Hy’t ook nie erens om eers heen te gaan
Maar sal hy sy droom met die mensdom kan deel?
Sien ons hom werk? Dink jy hy is al heel?
Beethoven
Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor.
Good ol' Ludwig
belts out his wicked speel.
I read some Bukowski,
I put it aside,
I listen
I think,
How many lives
does the average man live
before he dies?
Some live too many
Some live none at all
Some live only one,
often living none as well.
I would draw
but there is nothing to draw
I would paint
but there is nothing to paint
All that exists right now
is my pencil, my notebook,
my wish to live before my innards die,
my thoughts of Dani,
and, of course,
Good ol' Ludwig.
Bright eyes
no lies
ne tears
in years
cold heart
shattered apart
strong mind
hard to find
gentle hands
no demands
over sensative emotions
plays it tough
but far from rough
always confused
keeping others amused
feels for others
but not herself
speak of nothing much
but an honest touch
tries to hide
but to much pride
keeping it real
is her speel
burn her once
she'll turn away
and go on with a new day
forgiving
but not forgetting
never taking time to unwined
she wears a tinted mask
I dare you to take it off
Jesus made green onions and dragon flies.
Roses are violet parme and purple and white.
Love is a creature living for life.
Eye do not send her flowers made of thistles;
but ewe eye send to ewe mye love.
Eye search for colored roses
and eye look for flowers made of shaded hues;
because eye love ewe more than my own life;
more than simple poem words can tell.
Antidisestablishmentarianism and other knoeing words
aer hard for me to spell.
Eye speel ewe and love parme and Violette and Mary.
My flowers made of white and purple stones.
To give me love.
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