wat issit met ons?..

wat issit met ons

wat soos sei-soene

bly opduik…

soos bleshoenders

wat onderwater vir

wie-weet-wat

en ploebs! weer

iewers anders

uit die spieëlvlak loer

wat issit met ons

da tons droom en leef

so saam bly weef

so dubbel leef

aanmekaar bly kleef…

wat issit met ons

wat soos eendedons

bly val en windskep

nooit landingsplek kry nie…

wat issit met ons

dat daar nooit

vergeet word,

weggebêre,

afgesterf word nie…

wat issit met ons

dat ek en jy

soos middernagink

saans in nagvlug

see-en-lug eenword

maar more weer

met ‘n glasskoen

sonder maat sit?…

-VM’16-

Silence falls

there comes a silence

that has nothing left to say…

all has been revealed

about who you are

and who you’re not

it falls slowly

from the sky

intercepts all your words

steals your breath away

and bundles it

as if a sheet

landing

on a freshly made bed…

it buries

what you thought to say

it goes and lies down

without talking back

as if someone

has covered your mouth

with their hand

your tongue lolls powerlessly

in your mouth

silence has a big nothing

to disclose

it wrenches a life from you

that bears no new blossoms

carries no fruit

or bread…

it falls

like pouring rain

and lets everything inside you

droop with heaviness…

it becomes a silence

that pierces the air

speaks wordlessly

of secrecy

it festers there

in the way your back

has been bent

you feel it protesting

shouting loudly

at the mountains;

it happened to me,

you feel it wanting to

jump out of your chest,

fly banners in the street…

the silence falls

like a sheet

that is patiently shook out

covering all your words…

like the settling of dust

it causes no discomfort…

in this space you learn

to pray:

if You are there

then see me here

take this heaviness

into Your lap…

-VM’16-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The point is,Ma…

ek hèt geweet dat

jou weggaan

soos ‘n hol kol  op my maag

sou bly sit…

tog betrap dit my

daagliks

op die verkeerde voet

in my kop vertel ek jou

van my dag,

my oorwinninkies,

my nederlae…

want ek het baie

om jou te vertel,

teveel ditjies en datjies

wat niemand anders wil hoor

soos jy dit wou hoor nie…

ek weet wat jy sou sê…

hoe jy sou lag van lekkerkry

of verontwaardig sou wees,

always in my corner,

but that’s not the point,

now is it Ma?

How do I live without you

sing die radio

en ek wil daai jukebox

by die venster uitsmyt

kaplaks! tot in die straat

ek kon jou àltyd bel

vloermoer my hart

hier in my binneste

jy sou wel beaam wat ek

eintlik reeds weet

omdat jy dit ‘n halfeeu lank

vir my probeer leer het,

but that’s not the point, Ma…

nou blaai ek deur boeke

waarvoor jy lief was

The Houses Inbetween,

Die plesierboom,

gedigte van wat

die lewe so vlymskerp

intens persoonlik maak,

soekend na nog geselsies met jou,

ek luister na jou musiek,

Pavarotti se Moon River

wider than a mile

I’m crossing you in style someday…

en nou hèt jy en ek smile

as ek dink hoe stylish jy

sou wees vir daai trippie

jy is nou vry om te reis oral

waar jy met krom vingers

in jou Atlas sou naspoor…

ek loop deur jou leë plek,

praat met jou in die spieël,

the point is, Ma,

dat ek soos ‘n hanslam

bly blêr voor die plaashek

net om weer jou stem te hoor…

-VM’16-

 

I wanted to tell you, you know?

I wanted to tell you,  you know

how magically you colored my life

how black my nights sometimes seemed

how I wish I knew

how to hate what I irreversibly loved

***

I wanted to tell you, you know…

that you made my heart feel

like a free sunbird in flight

like the solace and stillness of faith

when the world spinned out of control

                        ***

I wanted to tell you, you know

before it was too late

wanted to climb on a high mountain

shout out the news, however inconvenient,

but…you played hide-and-seek

slipped away like quicksilver…

                       ***

I wanted to tell you, you know…

my mouth was full of stars and orbits

ready to burst out of me to you,

my eyes were full with the sheen

of Luna, Orion,  Venus and Pluto…

                       ***

I wanted to tell you, you know

because it belonged to you

and was mine to give…

but I saw in your eyes,  you already knew

had found it not nearly enough

                         ***

like a race in the rain

my words skidded and slid

made a screeching u-turn and called halt

such sacred words deserved

to be heard by a willing ear…

-Vanessa Myburgh-

 

 

 

 

as ek jou liefkry

 

as ek jou

liefkry

hoef die sterre

nie te skyn nie

daar hoef nie brood

in die broodblik

te wees nie

en loadshedding

is ‘n breeze

as ek jou

liefkry

kan die see

maar tsunami

kan die maan

in die middel

van die dag

die son uitdoof

hoef ek nooit weer

Tafelberg te sien nie

kan die verkeer

maar hectic wees

as ek jou liefkry

kan die dag

doodgewoon

sy eie gang gaan…

want dan is jy tog:

my sterre

son en maan,

my brood en my lig,

my veilige berg,

my heerlike reis…

as ek jou liefkry

span dit soos

‘n reënboog

bo-oor als…

-Vanessa Myburgh-

 

We

we skirt each other’s worlds

lightly tracing the profile

like rimlight would kiss 

a treasured piece of art

we tango never touching

our souls entwined

in a wanton embrace

yet forever finding this love

in a breathless waitingroom…

we circle each other’s skies

we longingly watch

from afar and every now

and every then…

we howl our sorrow

to the moon and her stars…

-Vanessa Myburgh-

dra my in jou broeksak

 

dra my in jou broeksak

sing my naam in jou kop

hoor my in die oggendbries

as die wind sy koffie roer

steek my in jou dagboek weg

daar kan ons omhels…

ek is altyd iewers

weggesteek

waar ek en jy kan riepa-raai…

want jy is my hoër noot

as wat ek ooit kon sing

ek is jou verlore lied

wat jy oor jou drome giet

dra my in jou broeksak

my kop sing jou naam

hoor jou lag gul en vry

as die branders vrolik breek

stap twee rye spore

in die sand

een vir jou en een vir my

ek dra jou in my rok se sak

strooi jou glimlag oor my oggendpap…

-Vanessa Myburgh-

 

Hanyauku

 

she doesn’t walk

walking is locked

to the pull of the Earth

she doesn’t walk…

she  g-l-I-d-e-s

like an ice skater

all clinging skirt

arms out wide,

she doesn’t walk

she runs like the wind

hair blown back

from her ecstatic face,

gunning it down the road

she doesn’t walk

this fragile

breath of life

that pumps my heart

she races in fast cars,

screeching around

tricky bends,

past checkered flags…

she doesn’t walk

this life with the butterfly

tattooed on her breast,

she spreads powerful wings

and the lift-off

is effortlessly instant,

her feet hanging

as if from a swing

she backstrokes

through clouds,

breaststrokes

over mountains

and tiptoes lightly,

whispering ‘hanyauku’

on the warm breeze…

she doesn’t walk

she’s got the sun

shining from her pocket,

a star dangling in her hair

and the moon is her

rocking chair…

-Vanessa Myburgh-

 

 

 

 

Blou

 

geheimsinnige

diep-onder-die-see

blou

vee kwaste vol

verlange

af aan my

deurkosyn

onthou span boog

soos Fira se koepel,

donkieroete

geduldig

teen die rantjies

tot die wêreld

deinserig om my lê…

verf ritmies

al om die

koepelvenstertjies

soos ‘n Ortodokse kerkie

vind ek prewel

‘n ou stukkie gebed

wat voor my

kleintydbedjie

saans gekniel het

ek verf vir my

‘n Griekse deur

waaragter skuil

poublou towery,

horisonne                                                               

vol mostertson

en die eindelose

uitsig oor gisters

breek soos branders…

elke verfhaal word

jy

waarmee

ek

in die Griekse see baljaar…

blou is die onthou

soos Fira se koepel

soos vashou

aan die flentertjie see

wat skommel-skommel

jou pyn wegvee…

try as I may

al die lae blou

maak nooit als

mooi dig toe nie…

jy dobber na bo,

klop aan die blou deur

onthou, blou, sou, wou

sit hoog bo verstaan

of wat die lewe vra…

-Vanessa Myburgh-

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

                                                                                                                                                                 

 

JY…

al sê ek wat

gebruik al

die woorde

in Chinees

Duits of Frans

gooi ek moerige

kruietaal by

Kombuistaal

in die taal

wat ek die beste ken,

mééstal praat

my hart

sy eie taal

suiwerder

as Afrikaans

of rapper-slang

of Boere-Ingels…

ek kan ontken

dat ek jou ken

alles anders

van gesproke

en geskrewe

woorde verken,

vloere vee

met my woordeskat,

my hart marsjeer

soos ‘n versteurde

onversteurd

telkemaal

maar weer na jou

in die Alpha

die Suiderkruis

en ek vermoed

die Omega

van my woordeboek…

daar waar taal

sy grense oorsteek

en op die maan

groot treë

vir die mensdom gee,

daar wag maar net

weer JY…

my instinktiewe

vryloop-wegloop

fantasie…

-Vanessa Myburgh-