To Write A Poem (Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

Silently, silently thoughts do sneak in into my lines
with a word sometimes a verse-line that does begin
as everything is singing their own praises and about a own existence
where you can fabricate nothing but can only write the absolute truth
with beauty, the abyss and the dark-cut that do stand as a kind of rapture
as if writing does exist in all things that are, that had been and which is coming
are exploding like pods that are shooting out seed
by themselves do carry messages that curtail and admonish people
as if it is spying on all of life in what it really is,
do give a safe harbour and a fortress to the oppressed,
do take hold of diacritical text to accentuate and to de-emphasise
over the fertility of a wide area,
as if words are rites that do destine things for the near future,
that sometimes does talk with a soft or very loud voice.

© Gert Strydom