Light and Dark

How long will you demand this veil?
This mask of superficial purity, white?
I want to rip into this suffocating lace.
Tear it from my tortured beaten face.
Revealing black haunted eyes to light.
How long must this macabre act prevail?
Come to me my lost and reprobate angel.
Liberate me with your love in dark places.
Let me bleed into the white empty spaces.
Bless my union in the dilapidated chapel.
So that I might be resurrected to the night.
Divinely ordained in pure black and white.

Autumn Bedroom

Golden lava-flows of stars plunges
in waterfalls over the edge of a bed.
A faithful fan performs its Sufi twirls
cloistered, as is proper, in obscurity.
Whilst the guitar whispers love songs
an audience of plants listens in silence.
Soft cotton covers hug my naked skin
like the warm touch of an absent lover.
Gratitude dances on my heavy eyelids
as I drift into a sleep void of storms.

Orphan (Revised)

In a small waterfront bar in the old Cape of Good Hope,
a place created by the gods for lost souls and orphans,
we drank warm melancholy cocktails out of old bottles
wrapped in cheap brown paper bags to hide our sin
when your soul unexpectedly spilled in from the cold dark rain.

A thousand miles away I lift my eyes to the clear blue skies
and remembering and wondering about the crossroads of life
wrapped up in the inaudible plea drifting up from your voice
wordlessly telling me of pain that the universe holds in my heart
because it sees you and wants to throw its arms around you.


Daar in ń waterkant bar van die ou Kaap
Die plek van verlore siele en weeskinders.
Drink ons warm drankies uit ou bottels,
begrawe in goedkoop bruin papier sakke.
Jou siel val laat nag in uit die koue reen.
Nou kyk ek hier op na die ope blou hemel,
ek onthou, maar wonder oor ons kruispad.
Daar is ń woordelose roep in jou stem,
en praat jy onbewustelik jou pyn met my.
Die heelal hou sy asem op in my hart,
dit sien jou en wil sy arms om jou gooi.