Gert Strydom Poems

Against the fogged car window
my fingers call to the outside
while you walk away
tossing away the past, of years long.
...

Today I lie my yesterdays in a bottle
from which I can shake memories
as it fits me
...

Build your monument to a war
that you have lost at Cuito Cuanavale
and try to deceive the world
about your victory
...

The band was already playing
a marching song
and officers, non-commissioned ranks
and troops spotless
...

The sun inspects
rows and rows of trees
and at night
the moon is at ease while every thing freezes
...

I experienced a cold war
and silently it sneaked in,
first in the way that you looked at me
that was cutting right through me
...

It was a small white house
near to a hillock
with a red painted plate roof
and it felt somehow
...

In Primary school
we played in the field
above the school
in break time.
...

Falling through space with rushing air
you dropp from a plane as if flying on wings
with wind blowing everywhere, sweat in your hair
...

I want to be with you
and times take its toll,
make that I fear the separation,
...