A Yearning For Nemesis Poem by Gert Strydom

(after Sipho Sepamla)

Like leaves falling in the autumn
and scratching are swished by the wind
against the window
they do come as individuals,
some do walk in pairs,
others in groups.

Like a sandstorm that suddenly does blind
it is difficult to find people in the crowd
where over platforms they are struggling past,
almost into each other in a mishmash.

I saw tiredness,
sometimes a yearning for nemesis
on the faces from which the masks did disappear
as if the will to live

was somehow destroyed
in the buildings, offices
and factories of the city,

with voices that constantly did chatter,
did make jokes
and some people were to one side
while some were old-fashioned

and in all of this,
even in their conversations
they still did remain individuals,
that did conceal their loneliness,
did almost never make real friendships

and in eyes I did see burn
the deep meaninglessness,
the deeper urge
to mean something to someone,
to be reckoned

while people did scatter
to the cells of their apartments
and others locked themselves away
beyond the bared windows and doors
in the suburbs.

[Reference: "The Loneliness Beyond" by Sipho Sepamla.]

© Gert Strydom