Showing posts with label prose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prose. Show all posts

Thursday, May 5, 2011

I dreamed about you


I dreamed about you last night,
for this morning my pillow
still had an impression
of the outline of your face.

We were on the beach,
for between the sheets on my bed,
I discovered sand by my feet.

We were holding hands,
for my palm was still warm
and my fingers were formed
in the shape of your hand.

In my dream we must have been kissing,
for my lips were moist,
with your accumulated taste in my mouth.

We fell asleep together,
for my back was cold,
and my forequarters still warm with spooning.

In my dream I still wanted to whisper something,
to enclose you with my one final thought,
for on my tongue I discovered three words:
I and Love and You.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Fury

Life, Oh furious life
How it drives me
Sexual magical brutal fury
At my finest height
My coarsest depth
Creation inspiration originality passion
Violence pain pure fearless destruction
Giving and receiving blow upon blow
To recover from never
Pursued by its raging intensity
As it dances a furious dance
To create or destroy

Spirit, Oh human spirit
I become the object of your violent rant
Raw brutal animal
This is what we are
And we, civilized to disguise
That terrifying animal
lurking within us

Oh furious creature
Exalted transcendent self-destructive unutterable
Lord of creation




Thursday, January 6, 2011

Vulnerably fragile

Glimmering mountain tops stabbing open skies in shades of gray greets me as my mind's eye revisits an arduous journey towards the edge of this precipice on which I now stand. My new found wings I feel spread under bristling feathers, readying for this moment of truth. With keen anticipation I draw the cool air carried on the mountain breeze and start in an exhilarating thrill. I shudder as its fresh caress enters my lungs ...This moment captures my focus as I draw confidence in this fear conquering quest... And I will be as vulnerable and fragile as it is possible for me to be... shredded to the core ... stripped bare... And when I fall ... it will be near your feet.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Elephant

Large in its grotesque dark silence
… it waits in the room
My attempts to get away …
trapped under sandbags of futility…
Fleeing from it an exercise of the impossible
In silence my fate resigned
For it follows me you see

Even escaping the confines
Of the suffocating...
shrinking walls of my prison
I can count on it to …
remain two steps behind

Stealing away in my shadow
It follows … faithfully …. no …
spitefully … in it’s malice its bound to me
and me to it

And turning around …
almost in recognition of a familiar face
And see nothing …
an empty nothingness protruding from the silence
a familiar entity …
an ominous presence
Yet I do recognize it ...
before the need to embark
on a journey of painful recollection …
I know
… It’s the elephant in the room

It says nothing …
expects nothing to be said in return
It just waits …
patiently .. reminding me …
constantly reminding me

WHAT DO YOU WANT? …
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DO?
Say something …
say anything .. please
… dear jesus
I feel my sobs choke halfway up my throat

Will your resolve weaken
Now that your quest is successful
now that we are alone
Just you and me

No …
Now that I am alone
You see … You don’t count
For its solitude you seek
Its solitude you impose
… On me
And you have become
… my self imposed warden

Oh love of my life
Light of my roadway
You are but a memory
In the darkness that envelops me
And as the night of my existence
... embraces me
I await the breaking dawn that never comes

Had we met sooner
Before I was bound to
This entity
Of sorrow and painful regret
Lurking in the shadows
It sits
And waits
It’s waiting still

Waiting for me to finish my writing
To take the last gulp
Of this bitter cup of heartache
And in its predictability
… It offers me a refill


Copyright Johannes Cloete 2009
All rights reserved


Friday, July 24, 2009

Do you feel like giving up the fight?

On your cold gray stones, breaks the sea
If my mouth could only speak the feelings that arise in me
Carefree the children shouting on the beach at play
Happily the sailor sings in his boat at bay

In dreamlike state seeing your face now disappeared
I’m still hearing the sound of your voice gone silent
At the foot of your rocky crags, breaks the sea
The tender grace of a day long lost, will never come back to me

And in the silence of my lips my thoughts spoke questions

What have I been fighting for? Can I remember what I’ve been living for? Can I feel it taking my breath away? Can I feel myself suffocating? Can I feel? Have I replaced my pride with pain? Have I come here to hide? Did someone break my heart inside? Have I grown weary? Do I feel like giving up the fight, you and I? Am I in ruins?

And in brilliance of light from white sands
I glanced up and noticed your radiance
In your happy voice your eyes betrayed a pain
And in the silence of my lips my thoughts spoke questions

Have you reached the end of the road? Do you feel yourself losing all sense of control? Have your thoughts taken their toll, and you feel them breaking the spirit of your soul? Did your faith walk on broken glass, and now await the emptiness to pass? Does anything last? Have you grow weary too? Do you feel like giving up the fight, you and I? Are you in ruins?

Have we tried living on our own, after it all burned down? Did we stand too close to the fire, searching forgiveness? Do we understand how it feels, when it’s time to live and let lie and we can’t get another try? Did something inside our hearts die? Have we grown weary? Do we feel like giving up the fight, you and I? Are we in ruins?

As I glanced back up there you were still
And as the sun shone brightly on the white sands the pain had left

Saturday, July 18, 2009

my heart, my belief

I pretend there's nothing wrong. But inside I feel the hollow emptiness grow. So I hid my heart in a nest of roses, out of the sun's way, hidden apart. In a bed softer than the soft white snow. Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not? Why should my heart be so restless, when never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred?

Lie still, I told my heart, for the wind was quieting down, and mild leaves were muffling the keen sun's rays. Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes, and the wind is more restless yet than you are. Is there a thought in you still stinging as a thorn's wound? Why do the fangs of hope deferred torment you so? Is that what bids the peace of your slumber farewell?

The green land's name that a charm encloses was never mapped in the traveler’s chart. And the sweet fruit that grows on its trees was never sold in the merchant's mart.

In the world of dreams I have chosen my part, to sleep for a season and hear no word of true love's truth or of light love's art.

And I pretend there's nothing wrong. But inside I feel the hollow emptiness grow. And a cloudburst came over me … and I felt my spirit break, for I had lost all of my belief. And realizing my mistake, I whispered a prayer in my heart.

And as through a timeless void, I felt my heart speak to me quietly. I need love … Divine love. Please forgive me, for I understand that I've been blind. Love is what I need to help me know my name. Through the cloudburst came my insight and I felt my spirit fly as if through centuries. And in a flash of lightning I felt my reality. And I realized what it takes.

The message from my heart was plain to see. Make me a promise. Show me how to live. For I know you won't forsake me. I want to believe ... I have to believe

I speak not your name

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not … your name. For there’s grief in the sound … there’s guilt in the blame. Will I ever be able to feel again? May I hold you one last time? Maybe I will feel something again. Deception leaves a metallic taste ... the untruthfulness is more than I can bear … I can no longer convince myself … when I speak to you, my voice I no longer hear… and it rips me apart. Why am I trying to hold on… when the pain is more than I can bear? Perhaps if I can forgive me … forgive you … forgive us …but the scars wont heal.

How do we play our broken strings? How do we feel something that our hearts won’t allow? How can I continue telling you something that’s not real?

The truth hurts … but lying is worse… the pain of it too much. How can I give anymore … when my love for you is different now? How do we play house in the ruins of us? It’s like running back into the fire, when there’s nothing left to save. It’s like chasing the very last train, when you already know it’s too late.

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not … your name. For there’s grief in the sound … there’s guilt in the blame. The tear that now burns my cheek reveals the deep thoughts dwelling in the silence of my heart. Thoughts too brief for our passion … too long for our peace. Where are all those hours gone now … will their joy or bitterness ever cease? You may have all the happiness … mine will be the guilt.

Forgive me my dearest .. forsake me if you wish. Your heart is stronger than mine, and no one shall ever break it .. whatever may become of us. For now … the bitterness in this soul I cannot shake .. and our days appear more fleeting now, and our moments more sweet.

One sigh of your sorrow, one look of your love … and I’m captivated .. rewarded … reproached.

Monday, July 13, 2009

You warm my heart

Sweet friend of mine. I have reached these lands newly, by a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only. With mountains toppling into seas without a shore and oceans that restlessly aspire, that surge unto skies of fire. With lakes endlessly outspread lone and dead, their waters still and chilly. Yet I felt warm as I thought of you.

In the cold of dawn, where the traveler meets sheeted memories of the past, shrouded forms that start and sigh as they pass the wanderer by. White-robed forms of friends long given in agony, to the earth and heaven. And as the sun rose, and gave warmth and light freely, I thought of you my dearest friend.

Sweet friend of mine. How soothing your kind companionship warms my heart and refreshes my soul. Thank you for coming into my life.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

My Gift, My Sacrifice

As I watched the crimson colored clouds bidding the dying sun farewell, my disquieting thoughts prevailed. Of light and darkness … harmony and discord … beauty and fear … freedom and entrapment.

I was thinking about you tonight. And I was thinking about my gift … My sad sweet gift, to shine light upon darkness and wash away gloom … the only limitation was its being ineffective on you my dearest. For against your deep sorrow it had no use. So I hid it … buried it. For the perversity of it was a constant reminder of my sacrifice. In graceless mutiny misrepresenting goodness I dwelt, until it was impossible to continue.

The shiny skies were swimming now in the moonlit expanse. As ray lit clouds gleamed glory, yet highlighting a dead spot where the light lay spent to darkness. How this serene landscape was being threatened by thoughts of bitter self reproaches as I dealt them silently.

My love, how fleeting our serenity was? … under constant threat by tormented reality … saturated by sadness. Was I beginning to lose my mind in the depths of your despair? Frail limitation prevented me from being your companion on your journey through hell. In this I failed you. By cowardice I was distanced … whisked away to the light … away from suffocating darkness.

And how I abandoned you in the darkness of your prison … please forgive me. Was not the warmth of my love for you enough … enough to melt the ice from your heart? How can I blame you, when it’s me I can’t forgive?

You are my greatest sacrifice … for my gift I can no longer hide.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Sadness



Would that I were a dry well, and that the people tossed stones into me, for that would be easier than to be a spring of flowing water that the thirsty pass by, and from which they avoid drinking. – Kahlil Gibran (January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)



A deep sadness has taken my heart ransom. There is no price to pay for its release, for the kidnapper has no demands, other than to inflict pain. There are days when it seems that I will certainly drown in this immeasurable well of agony. How has this beautiful sad sweet life come to this? I keep asking myself rhetorically, hungrily awaiting an answer. My mind continually reasons around in perfect circles, as minds often do, only producing more questions, and no answers. No approach seems to have much success and I abandon all hope of understanding. Answers are as evasive as peace and closure.

I want to run naked shouting at the top of my lungs crying laughing sobbing … immersed in pain … enveloped by sad heartbroken emptiness … where I fall I wish to remain … for the dust to cover me, hide me, comfort me. Instead I willingly consume this poison in small benign meticulous dosages; its thoughts … memories … sorrow … happiness ... pain. I’m looking at this strangely familiar face in the mirror, it still looks pleasant although its eyes reveals perseverance turned weak; its mouth is silent while my heart is screaming.

It’s over and impossible to save. My soul is hollow. I am surrounded by silent passersby, a silent nightmare where nobody speaks. I’m offering sand deliveries in the middle of the Sahara, trapped on this lonely island where hopes and dreams turn into ashes, and illusions are dashed into broken mirrors.

As the sun sets



The last bits and pieces of daylight
before the clouded curtain of a long night:
deep reds and purples of a burning chalice
colors of mourning
signaling the end of another day.
As the trees and sky gradually melt and fade
into one another, the last light
takes with it not only our ability to see
but all the bright things of a lazy afternoon.
Dreams and wishes, a day's delight - disappeared,
leaving us alone within the darkness.




The truck arrived with merciless intent. An army marched in knowingly and determined. I watched memories of a life together carried out, one by one. I felt pieces of my heart go along and melt in the clear sunlight before it could make it to the rusty belly of the beast parked in the driveway.

These walls now shared the emptiness in my heart, but I did not notice it … for the crowded suffocating heartache drove me outside. Outside .. outside to the clear sunlight and the crisp cold air as the sun was setting … watching. Watching the truck rev up and disappear into the sunset where it came from … never to return.

The ache in my chest sends its poison through my veins, pulsating … beating a steady rhythm … ignorant to the screaming agony raging through this weathered spirit.
Inevitability is blazing its trumpet of finality. As the sun sets I’m down on my knees, praying for a sunrise.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Yesterday and Today

The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as a vulture hovers over a carcass, until he reached a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent marble statuary.

He sat there pondering the water which poured from the mouths of the statues like thoughts flowing freely from a lover's imagination, and contemplating heavily his palace which stood upon a knoll like a birth-mark upon the cheek of a maiden. His fancy revealed to him the pages of his life's drama which he read with falling tears that veiled his eyes and prevented him from viewing man's feeble additions to Nature.

He looked back with piercing regret to the images of his early life, woven into pattern by the gods, until he could no longer control his anguish. He said aloud, "Yesterday I was grazing my sheep in the green valley, enjoying my existence, sounding my flute, and holding my head high. Today I am a prisoner of greed. Gold leads into gold, then into restlessness and finally into crushing misery.

"Yesterday I was like a singing bird, soaring freely here and there in the fields. Today I am a slave to fickle wealth, society's rules, and city's customs, and purchased friends, pleasing the people by conforming to the strange and narrow laws of man. I was born to be free and enjoy the bounty of life, but I find myself like a beast of burden so heavily laden with gold that his back is breaking.

"Where are the spacious plains, the singing brooks, the pure breeze, the closeness of Nature? Where is my deity? I have lost all! Naught remains save loneliness that saddens me, gold that ridicules me, slaves who curse to my back, and a palace that I have erected as a tomb for my happiness, and in whose greatness I have lost my heart.

"Yesterday I roamed the prairies and the hills together with the Bedouin's daughter; Virtue was our companion, Love our delight, and the moon our guardian. Today I am among women with shallow beauty who sell themselves for gold and diamonds.

"Yesterday I was carefree, sharing with the shepherds all the joy of life; eating, playing, working, singing, and dancing together to the music of the heart's truth. Today I find myself among the people like a frightened lamb among the wolves. As I walk in the roads, they gaze at me with hateful eyes and point at me with scorn and jealousy, and as I steal through the park I see frowning faces all about me.

"Yesterday I was rich in happiness and today I am poor in gold.

"Yesterday I was a happy shepherd looking upon his head as a merciful king looks with pleasure upon his contented subjects. Today I am a slave standing before my wealth, my wealth which robbed me of the beauty of life I once knew.

"Forgive me, my Judge! I did not know that riches would put my life in fragments and lead me into the dungeons of harshness and stupidity. What I thought was glory is naught but an eternal inferno."

He gathered himself wearily and walked slowly toward the palace, sighing and repeating, "Is this what people call wealth? Is this the god I am serving and worshiping? Is this what I seek of the earth? Why can I not trade it for one particle of contentment? Who would sell me one beautiful thought for a ton of gold? Who would give me one moment of love for a handful of gems? Who would grant me an eye that can see others' hearts, and take all my coffers in barter?"

As he reached the palace gates he turned and looked toward the city as Jeremiah gazed toward Jerusalem. He raised his arms in woeful lament and shouted, "Oh people of the noisome city, who are living in darkness, hastening toward misery, preaching falsehood, and speaking with stupidity...until when shall you remain ignorant? Unit when shall you abide in the filth of life and continue to desert its gardens? Why wear you tattered robes of narrowness while the silk raiment of Nature's beauty is fashioned for you? The lamp of wisdom is dimming; it is time to furnish it with oil. The house of true fortune is being destroyed; it is time to rebuild it and guard it. The thieves of ignorance have stolen the treasure of your peace; it is time to retake it!"


At that moment a poor man stood before him and stretched forth his hand for alms. As he looked at the beggar, his lips parted, his eyes brightened with a softness, and his face radiated kindness. It was as if the yesterday he had lamented by the lake had come to greet him. He embraced the pauper with affection and filled his hands with gold, and with a voice sincere with the sweetness of love he said, "Come back tomorrow and bring with you your fellow sufferers. All your possessions will be restored."

He entered his palace saying, "Everything in life is good; even gold, for it teaches a lesson. Money is like a stringed instrument; he who does not know how to use it properly will hear only discordant music. Money is like love; it kills slowly and painfully the one who withholds it, and it enlivens the other who turns it upon his fellow man."

Khalil Gibran



Versione italiana:

Ieri e Oggi


L'oro-hoarder camminato nel suo palazzo e parco camminato con lui la sua difficoltà. E sul suo capo oscillato preoccupazioni aleggia come un avvoltoio su una carcassa, fino a raggiungere un bel lago circondato da magnifici marmo statuario.

E sabato ci meditandole cui versa l'acqua dalla bocca dei pensieri, come le statue che fluisce liberamente da un amante della fantasia, e contemplando pesantemente il suo palazzo che sorgeva su un poggio, come una nascita del marchio su una guancia di una fanciulla. La sua fantasia, ha rivelato a lui le pagine della sua vita, il dramma che ha letto con le lacrime che rientrano velato i suoi occhi e gli hanno impedito di vedere l'uomo debole aggiunte alla Natura.

Ha guardato indietro con piercing rammarico per le immagini della sua prima vita, tessuti in modello da divinità, fino a che egli non potrebbe più controllare la sua angoscia. Egli ha detto ad alta voce, "Ieri ho avuto le mie pecore al pascolo nel verde della valle, godendo la mia esistenza, il mio suono di flauto, e tenendo alta la mia testa. Oggi sono un prigioniero di avidità. Oro conduce in oro, poi in agitazione e, infine, nella frantumazione miseria.

"Ieri mi è stato come un canto di uccelli, svettanti liberamente qua e là nei campi. Oggi sono uno schiavo di volubile ricchezza, le regole della società, della città e delle dogane, e ha acquistato gli amici, le persone gradevoli da conformi alle leggi strane e strette di l'uomo. Sono nato per essere libero e godere della grazia della vita, ma mi trovo come una bestia da soma talmente carico d'oro che la sua schiena è rottura.

"Dove sono le ampie pianure, il canto ruscelli, la pura brezza, la vicinanza della Natura? Dove è la mia divinità? Ho perso tutto! Nulla rimane salvare la solitudine che mi rattrista, l'oro che mi ridicules, schiavi che maledizione per la mia schiena, e un palazzo che ho eretta come una tomba per la mia felicità, in cui la grandezza ho perso il mio cuore.

"Ieri ho roaming praterie e le colline insieme con la figlia di beduini; Virtù è stato il nostro compagno, il nostro Amore gioia, e la luna il nostro custode. Oggi sono tra le donne con superficiale bellezza stessi che vendono per l'oro e diamanti.

"Ieri ero spensierata, la condivisione con tutti i pastori la gioia della vita, mangiare, giocare, lavorare, cantare e ballare insieme per la musica del cuore la verità. Oggi mi trovo tra la gente come un agnello paura tra i lupi. Come ho camminare nelle strade, hanno lo sguardo verso di me con gli occhi e il punto di odio verso di me con sdegno e di gelosia, e come ho rubare attraverso il parco vedo accigliato facce tutte su di me.

"Ieri mi è stato ricco di felicità e di oggi sono poveri in oro.

"Ieri ero un felice pastore in cerca della sua testa come un re misericordioso guarda con piacere alla sua contenti soggetti. Oggi sono uno schiavo in piedi davanti la mia ricchezza, la mia ricchezza che mi ha rubato la bellezza della vita, una volta ho conosciuto.

"Mi perdoni, il mio giudice! Non sapevo che avrebbe messo ricchezze mia vita in frammenti e mi portano in sotterranei di durezza e la stupidità. Quello che ho pensato è stata gloria nulla è eterno, ma un inferno".

Egli stesso raccolte stancamente e camminava lentamente verso il palazzo, sospirando e ripetere ", è questo ciò che la gente chiama ricchezza? E 'questo il dio mi serve e adorare? E' questo che io cerco di terra? Perché non posso fare il commercio per uno particella di appagamento? Chi mi vende una bella pensata per una tonnellata di oro? Chi mi darebbe un momento d'amore per una manciata di gemme? Chi mi concede un occhio che può vedere gli altri 'cuori, e prendere tutte le mie casse in baratto? "

Come ha raggiunto il palazzo porte si voltò e guardò verso la città come Geremia guardava verso Gerusalemme. Ha sollevato le braccia in doloroso lamento e gridò: "Oh gente noisome della città, che vivono nelle tenebre, accelerare verso la miseria, la predicazione di menzogna, e parlando con la stupidità ... fino a quando si deve rimanere ignoranti? Unità quando si devono rispettare nella sporcizia di vita e di continuare a disertare i suoi giardini? Perché si tattered indossare abiti di seta, mentre la ristrettezza vesti di bellezza della natura è moda per voi? La luce della saggezza è oscuramento; è il momento di fornire con l'olio. La casa di vera fortuna è stato distrutto; è il momento di ricostruire e di guardia. L'ignoranza di ladri hanno rubato il tesoro della tua pace; è il momento di riprendere it! "

Come ha raggiunto il palazzo porte si voltò e guardò verso la città come Geremia guardava verso Gerusalemme. Ha sollevato le braccia in doloroso lamento e gridò: "Oh gente noisome della città, che vivono nelle tenebre, accelerare verso la miseria, la predicazione di menzogna, e parlando con la stupidità ... fino a quando si deve rimanere ignoranti? Unità quando si devono rispettare nella sporcizia di vita e di continuare a disertare i suoi giardini? Perché si tattered indossare abiti di seta, mentre la ristrettezza vesti di bellezza della natura è moda per voi? La luce della saggezza è oscuramento; è il momento di fornire con l'olio. La casa di vera fortuna è stato distrutto; è il momento di ricostruire e di guardia. L'ignoranza di ladri hanno rubato il tesoro della tua pace; è il momento di riprendere it! "


In quel momento un povero uomo era davanti a lui e si estendeva il suo canto l'elemosina. Come egli guardava il mendicante, la sua bocca parted, i suoi occhi si illuminò con una morbidezza e il suo volto irradiata gentilezza. E 'stato come se il ieri aveva lamentato dal lago era venuto a salutare lui. Ha abbracciato il povero con affetto e riempito con le sue mani d'oro, e con una voce sincera, con la dolcezza di amore, egli disse: "Venite domani e portare con voi i vostri colleghi malati. Tutti i vostri beni sarà recuperata."

Egli è entrato suo palazzo dicendo: "Tutto nella vita è buona, anche in oro, perché insegna una lezione. Il denaro è come uno strumento a corda, ma chi non sa come usarlo correttamente si limita ad ascoltare musica discordanti. Il denaro è come l'amore; uccide lentamente e dolorosamente colui che trattiene, e che anima le altre che si gira su un altro uomo. "

Khalil Gibran