Gert Strydom Poems

There’s a world
that lies between your arms
and between your lips kissing,
playing and touching
...

Farms lie patched in blocks
of brown and green squares
with maize and sunflower
and other crops.
...

In ancient times
men tried to build us,
on a plain in Shinar
using burnt bricks
...

White, black, coloured and Indian children
play along the stinking tributary
where drain water sewers in
and try to catch
...

At times I want to ask God
for just one more summer,
but when I think back
my winters also bloomed.
...

Now, my weekend is empty
as if you have escaped from it
or maybe you have deserted
...

All our morning glory days are done
just like the flowers
that you made me rip out
from where they grew
...

When at sixteen
he had to survive in the field
many times he was hungry
...

Never will I like C.L. Leipoldt say:
“My country is not mine anymore;
my nation is dead from the struggle,
my courage is not heroic anymore -
...

You dropped the two dogs
and cats,
had some tea with us
and I took the motorbike
...