Poetry

Hierdie is uit 'The heart in exile'. Ek soek iets om voor te lees vir my drama klas se 'poetry' aand by 'n kunskafee. Maar sover se Sam, my drama teacher, dat alles wat ek kies te 'oud en donker' (!) is. More sal ek hierdie twee saamvat en hoor...

Home Thoughts - Mark Swift

There is no road home
for home is where the heart is
We are
voyagers, we carry
our journeys within us. Privateers,
we run before a fickle wind.
Each day defines a course; its fixed
imperative. Out on the jet
streams, adrift for days, we navigate
the tide-bound globe. We are all
Columbus, quaffing
sour water under creaking stars
till moonfall.

I fly, as unerring
as a bird, between two departures.
One lies
dark, skeletal; the other is verdant,
a wildness of birds and gunfire.
With renegades
from every corner of the shrinking
world, I discuss, duty free,
the love of distant friends,
the lure of the sun
and the arid wines of another place. We share
the east, the south; go west
before closing time.
Far above, on migratory trails,
the gypsies at heart
fly home and away.


Still feeling - Ian Tromp

Things change, shift
immeasurably, immensely.
Remain the same

That after all is the all
of it:setting out early
to find the way back
to where we are

*

The body is far wiser
than the brain, it makes
its home where it finds itself
thinks less of exile

it is a shell held
to the sea that speaks
its own endlessness

*

Turn loss to a hard small
stone in the palm of your hand
clasp it till it breaks


your skin