Tikmasjien-hart

Jy is meer as ‘n herinnering in my tikmasjien-hart. Jy is oomblikke om te onthou; ‘n gedagte wat brand. Dit is hoekom ek graag jóu wil teken met my woorde en helder inkleur met rym en metafore. En om jou vas te vang op papier is hoe ek jou vashou, sodat elke saam-lag styf en … More Tikmasjien-hart

When A Hero

When a hero falls from grace, all the fairy tales are exposed. Tears become your make-up and silence is your words. But you were an anchor in this life that is the storm.   When a hero says goodbye, the greatest pain is uncovered. You question your tomorrow and out loud the heavens cry. But … More When A Hero

Skryf

Elke letter; elke woord is my verf. Soms gebruik ek dit om realisme uit te kerf. Soms gooi ek my emosies waaghalsig neer, sodat ek dit in abstrakte kuns kan versmeer.   Elke komma; elke punt is die oomblik van hoop. Soms skep dit verwagting, help bou aan ‘n droom. Soms is dit twyfel – … More Skryf

A Reminder of Being

    A sinking feeling; a heavy reminder of being. Dragging the feet to the moment of feeling free.   The voices whisper and point in the opposite direction, but it’s a sinking feeling; the heavy reminder of being.   To be flying – to be gliding – away from existence, as rainbow-dreams twist inside, … More A Reminder of Being

We Are Mosaic

The world is full of broken people finding their way through the shattered glass of heartbreak, sadness, and lost memories.   It cuts, it hurts, and it lets us bleed – driving you away from what the heart needs. Blinded by the bright darkness of our struggling souls; feeling alone and out of control.   … More We Are Mosaic

Colour Blind

In his times of darkness; his times of heavy rain, he dreamed about her guiding him through the pain.   Drowning in his questions about love and life, while lost in his reality of freedom and own light. No matter the way the compass told him to go, he was blinded by his fear of … More Colour Blind

Laaste Herfs-soen

In die oomblik van sterf; in sy oomblik van einde, dra hy meer goud in sy hande as enige ander. Mooi pronk hy die skoonheid van sy lang jare, dig gevul met die goue lig in sy laaste van dae. Sy hele wese ontplof met ‘n reënboog van kleure, stewig geplant in die aarde; gevestig … More Laaste Herfs-soen

Met die Sekelmaan

  Ek voer laat-aand gesprekke met die sekelmaan, vertel hom van my drome se donker waters en suutjies kruip die gety van gedagtes nader. Angsbevange in hierdie oomblik van my stilte, want ek weet, my siel, nog altyd jou hemelruim wat vir jou soos sterre skyn met helder hoop.   Ek verlang na laat-aand gesprekke … More Met die Sekelmaan

Jou Digkuns

Die alfabet van jou liggaam se lyne, kan bladsye vol skryf met jou poësie oor die rym van jou ewige sonskyn, verlange velde; herhaling van refrein.   Jou verskuilde gedagtes is my biblioteek, vol met boeke wat my vashou in jou greep. Nooit sal ek ophou lees aan jou menswees, dié idee van jou: metafoor … More Jou Digkuns