Gert Strydom Poems

Perfect love is such a strange kind of thing
in a way a kind of sublime paradigm
where we are searching something unending
that still stays even through the end of time,
...

Slow they do swim
in the surging swell avoiding rocks,
slow they do swim;
maybe a little he or him,
...

The young farmer is not dead
the earth that loves him, still remembers him,
where his young wife was raped by barbarians
and his small toddler daughter as well
...

Sometimes it's as if my childhood days come back
and it's as if the colour and texture catches me
when I am astounded by the sheer beauty of things,

by the smell of flowers hanging in the air,
...

While I stood at the door
I noticed
how the depths can suck you in,
can paralyse your heart and soul.
...

Here rests on the bark
of this tree
scratched to remain,
two hearts interlinked
...

Lisa let’s you come to her place near the airport
and you watch warplanes
disappearing into the blue sky
while you wait for her to open.
...

Beautiful is the rising sun
that touches the dark world
glowing red hot,
like a coal from the fire
...

I have no words, no idea
and do not know how,
to write that which lies between us
on paper.
...

Sometimes I wonder
how life is,
like a sum
with no true answers
...