Quadrangle

Love is a Bitch!

Love is a Bitch!

 

Cruel Love

Sneaky, uninvited

She appears when least expected

Intent on mischief, beguiling fools

With sweet charm

 

Quickened hearts pound

Having found

The One

To heal life’s scars

Comfort the empty Soul

With Love’s soothing balm

 

Oh Wicked Love!

Cruel Deceiver

A mirage to the Soul

She vanishes

Leaving only tears and broken hearts

Where once her warm presence lingered.

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Afraid

Afraid

Why am I afraid

of the pain you inflict?

When you lash out with cruel words

or withdraw your love

Surely after all this time

I am inured to your violent heart

And your words pierce old wounds

Without pain

My heart is cold

At the thought of you

Only fear keeps me smiling

My eyes, no windows to my soul

My anger is deep

A poison

My love is dead

Only fear keeps me smiling

And I want you to die.

Late 2007 – the trauma of my relationship with Lize had reached a crescendo – or so it seemed.  Yet it would take another two years to let go.  The pain of being with her was only exceeded by the pain of leaving her.  She was my drug. My ecstasy.  A euphoric high that seemed to take me to the gates of heaven, before plunging me into the depths of hell.

Before you Go

Before you Go

Before you leave, and turn to go

Perhaps you will consider

That there is more to (this) love

I could deliver?

Then perhaps a different tack

Brings hope of passions new

Let me read you from these pages

A verse, a line – a tale to enthral you!

And so I can regain

Ground lost, through bickered hours

By soft light we’re caressed, while

My voice the story flowers!

So before you take your bow

Pause, and consider still the sound

of my voice, through these pages

while new love, and friendship’s found.

17April2007 – My relationship with Lize was beginning to unravel.  I did not know it then, but this was the first step in a long, painful process of disentanglement.  She loved me to read to her, and I had found an old edition (1952) of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.  I wrote this poem and hid it between the dusty text and colourful prints. Somehow this copy stayed with me.  In hindsight I should have left then – the tumultuous nature of our relationship, the passionate extremes, could not have been good for either of us.  Yet we clung to each other, afraid of the darkness.

Dalk?

Dalk

Dalk is jy die een

Dalk is jy nie

Maar hoe sal ek weet

as ons nie tyd saam spandeer nie?

Miskien is dit “die liefde”

Of net iets wat soos die liefde lyk

Maar hoe sal ons weet as ons nie wag nie?

Gee dit tyd

Ek dink dikwels aan jou

jou oe, jou glimlag

Eintlik droom ek, en luister na die stilte

van jou asem as jy langs my slaap

En ek wag.

February 2006 – I had recently met Lize, and was falling in love. She challenged me to write her a poem in Afrikaans. The beginning of my most harmful relationship yet, but one that led me to reconcile me with myself.