Author Archives: miasmit

Kennisgewing

Baie dankie aan almal wat gereeld hier ingeloer het.

Die webtuiste en sy intekenaars het geskuif.Loer gerus in by http://www.skryfmetlyf.co.za vir meer.

Mooibly
Mia

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Inches

down where the spirit
meets the bone
I have built
have wrecked my home
the inbetween spaces
the unexplained
where expectant eyes
are met
then maimed

down where the spirit
meets the bone
I have hidden
sought and shown
recurring promise
repeated pride
the pendulum
the tick
the tide

down down where the spirit
down down in my bones
clashes
claws
martyrs
moans

an inch
to life
at the heart of me
is death undone
is agony

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Rhythmic

If the heart of man
is a moment
let the moment’s heart
strike true
finding baselines
fighting metronomes
we’re beating back
to you.

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Tribelings

We tuned in
to a silly
station
and repeated
every
song
with the chorus
feeding freely
from the truth
that we
belong.

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Flickerings

Persistant shaky
shadow
reluctant charming
child
the heart the heart
is wistful
the heart the heart
is wild.

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Onwetend

‘n Leë belofte
is ‘n swaar ding
met sy bok oë
en sy blink
jy dink jy vryf sy koppie
maar jou hand
sal aanhou
stink.

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The smile

I was moody that day, and too irritated to ask myself why. Constantly biting back the sharp things my mind produced, begging to be flung at everybody who crossed my path.

I attended all my meetings, won every argument, and quickly lost what was left of myself. By lunchtime even my shadow was long gone. It’s science you know? They leave with the light. Some things are wonderfuly predictable that way.

My anger marched ahead like a forcefield. Demanding to be known, to be felt. Gripping its jaws around every inch of calm or kindness, craving the rip. The scream.

The wake of my resistance set the pace. Drumming out an angry rhythm, and I was determined to follow. Giving myself willingly. Wildly. Screaming at every inch of every thing. Even outraged at the audacity of the air that would dare to touch me without granted permission.

I arched my back, threw my head, and hurled my rage towards the sky. Begging the world for battle!

And that was the moment when, by some miracle, I noticed Him.
Smiling at me. Of all things.

Smiling!

Showing me kindness. Loving on me. Beaming the warmth of His eyes across my every inch. Unaffected by my… well, by me. Living beyond the reach of change. Even mine.

In the days there after I would encounter His smile just as I did in the days before,but the specific shade of THAT smile has been warming my heart and cooling my fear ever since.

You see – He is unafraid. Even of us.

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Filed under Bloughts

Fraksioneel

‘n Stilte
‘n droogte
‘n skeur:
skrikwekkend middeldeur

‘n Skreeu
‘n skrik
‘n val:
verpletterende knal

‘n Bang
‘n pleit
‘n smeek:
die lewensglans ontbreek

Sirenes
hande
gryp
om die lekplek toe te knyp

Spoed
bevele
stop
lig sy voete los sy kop

‘n Pomp
‘n Steek
‘n Sny
en toe glip sy gees verby.

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Liggeraak

Daar’s ‘n son wat aanhou
opdaag
om ons lewenskring te voed
met sy ligbad
en sy vasvat
en sy geel genade gloed

daar’s ‘n son wat aanhou
opdaag
om die nag se steel te stop
met vlamkoors in sy are
en ‘n fakkel op sy kop

en ons ou aarde
draai om en om
ons klein blou
beweeg

en die son
hang hoog
in die hemelboog:
die vuurvaste strateeg.

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The void

If all the things
that’s left unsaid
would gather in a cloud
and pierce the sky
in poignant cry
sharp
and shrill
and loud
if all those words
came pouring down
if all those questions fell
symphonical apologies
and minuettes from hell

the earth might sigh
a slow relief
her hidden drought destroyed
the birds might shrink
and turn their backs
anxious
and annoyed

and we might live
despite the glare
of brightened understanding
or drown amidst
the fatal force
of being too demanding.

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Op-een-hoop-ing

Stil
stiller
stilte
en toe breek sy storm los
want ‘n lewenslange lading
sal die prys van weerlig kos.

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Die daarom van jou waarom

Jy’s ‘n drukgang

ek’s ‘n doolhof

dis eenvoudig

ek kan sien:

jy leef vir die prosesse

en ek?

vir die miskien.

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Volkslied van die vreemdes

Ons is die onbekendes
die vermoeides
die gestremdes
die hangkopwilg se blare
die vlam se vlek en roet
ons is die bitter banneling
wat die dag galstarrig groet

ons is ‘n honger oomblik
die hartklop van die snik
die blindheid van die bedelaar
die tong se sleep en stik
ons is die ver vervreemdes
die gewondes
die ontneemdes
die donker dood
se kopbeenkraak
wat oor
en oor
in pyn ontwaak

ons is ons is
oorbodig
ons is so sielsgevlek
die smeerstreep
en die skadu
wat oor elke ligpunt lek.

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SARS

Die oorlogsklok
het pas gelui
‘n string beseerdes
sluip verby
want dis hier waar vreemde voete leer:
‘n slagtydskaap
word aangekeer

die syfers is ‘n landmynveld
marsjeer op tippetoon
prosedures is ‘n slangsersant
kom sidder
en kom stoom

want die troepe is eenvoudig!
die troepe is te swak!
die troepe is sy suikerriet
wat hy een
vir een
sal knak.

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Meervoudig

Om ‘n spinnerak
deur ‘n naald te steek
sal jou moed
geduld
of perke breek

vir als wat jy
alreeds kan doen
wag ‘n duisend dinge meer
en die lesse wat
‘n opdraendpad
jou kop se stop sal leer.

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Nuweling

Die Nuutmaker
het my beetgekry
opgesaal
en fiks gery
ingeskryf
vir ‘n uithourit
en ‘n vlegsel in
my nek gesit

want die Nuutmaker
maak alles nuut
die Nuutmaker
maak mooi
die Nuutmaker
kan meer hanteer
as ‘n mensehand se plooi
die Nuutmaker
se oog sien skerp
die Nuutmaker
lag breed
oor die dieptes van
my binneman
wat hy nog uit gaan meet

Die Nuutmaker
het my goed gery
die heuwels en
die hel verby
tot ‘n blink salpeter
uitslaansweet
my ware kleure
uit sou meet

ek buig
en buig
voor Sy werke
ek buig
en buig
want ek’s klein

sien:
die Nuutmaker
het ‘n perd gekerf
toe ek
nog hond was
op my werf.

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Plaasgebed

Mag dit reën

mag dit reën

waar jou beeste loop

mag die rooikat sterf

voor hy skape stroop

 

mag die wind

en jou pompe

daagliks dans

mag daar rus

mag daar rus

op jou werf wees saans.

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Versadigingspunt

‘n Saad
kan homself
nie ontkiem nie
‘n saad
is so dood
soos beton
maar ‘n saad
hou die kode van oorvloed
‘n grootheid
‘n godheid in hom

‘n Saad
hoef homself
nooit te vrees nie
die doodsheid
lok lewe
bring vrug
die Saaier se hand
bring die asem
die wonder
die water
die lig.

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Ongeloof

Toe die kraaie kom
en jou oë uitpik
het jy dadelik aan
jou tong verstik
want praat is maklik
praat is groot
maar ‘n blinde pad
maak mensmurg dood.

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Lessons from Hong Kong 1.1

In typhoon season
a strong house
trumps a big house.

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