Gert Strydom Poems

Outside the Café
where I was having coffee,
a red BMW without number plates
died on the driver
...

Just as I stopped at a garage today
the car’s engine died,
as it was running
with the yellow light burning
...

I saw children
smoking Marijuana
and taking crack cocaine
and injecting heroine
...

The Kenwood plays
soft soothing instrumental music
and three dogs,
lies stretched out in front of the fireplace.
...

Always there have been
something holy to me,
about flames
that comes alive suddenly.
...

Years ago my car
was in for repairs
and I had to work overtime
and the work’s small bus,
...

Yesterday there were young black men
standing in underpants
at the Apies river
and they were busy
...

When we were primary school children
my mother read treasure island to us
and I could see long John Silver,
walking nearer without a leg
...

The city has a deadly wound
and on the street without a place to go,
sits an old man and his old wife
and their small white dog.
...

From Pretoria station
I take a bus that drives to Vryburg
to go and fetch a car.
Cornfields flashes past
...