When night falls

We find ourselves in darkness

between blurry blots of orange light

skimming through bathroom windows

from the street

and the persistent hum of the fridge

that dwindles at day

while television sounds and laughter compete

with dinnering,

dishes

and life

when the wind tugs on roof sheets

and howls around the corners

of the mind,

livestreaming faults,

failure,

foes

of which the I is largest.

We find ourselves between sheets drenched in

lonely

wrapped naked in our thoughts,

skin on skin with the wounds left by day

for night-time to mend:

our souls oozing

the burden of being human.

- Alvené Appollis- Du Plessis

verbly

die spektrale kariljon bly in my ore lui 
lui alle klaagliedere uit die pen uit!
laat ek die filigraan idée fixe vasvang 
en dit opklits tot een pronkende pou
dit sal die poppemeesters verbly  

grootbekke

dit is hartverskeurend hoe grootbekke 
hoogty vier in hierdie wêreld
ek skaar my maar by die sonskyn
om my sin van standvastigheid te gee
ek nooi die malvablomme en 
die tarentale om saam met my 
in die voortuin piekniek te hou

soos 'n taksonoom

soos ‘n taksonoom
vat ek die dooie gedig
en stop dit op
plak met bewende vingers
sy smotsige vere in deurmekaar metafore vas
en hoop die wêreld sien
nie sy onpolsende hart raak nie

Present

The crumpled paper smells

of long-ago youth, wrapping paper

– blue Christmas,

and polka dot presents

my parents tried

to piece together.

The poor sixties lives

and the old laughter

that looks back at us now,

who hold crumpled paper

and memories

in time’s blue wrapping.

 - Brian Walter

Só lyk genade

As die son eers by my venster inloer

en die duiwe langsaan koer,

weet ek:

die Jirre het my wraggies wéér gespaar.

Dis my kroeskop kam

en die ketel kook

en die nagmerries van gist’raand

met Colgate wegjaag:

smile a little, they say.

Dis ʼn matter van kindmaak,

grootmaak,

geldmaak,

repeat

en al die katjies en hondjies

en kindertjies oppas

tussen parlement-speel,

doodspeel

en safe kap

in ʼn land van surviving the law,

the lies

and the poets.

As die maan eers oor die vloer dans

en die rondloper ginger kom groet,

dan weet ek:

die Jirre was my wéér genadig

en my kroeskop kan maar kussingskop

en rus.

- Alvené Appollis-du Plessis

Between horizons

Dust, heat, silence . . .
A truck stops dead
between horizons –
farm workers waiting
to hitch a ride.


For Townes, feline companion (II)

Little friend, long gone,
driving on the N9 to Aberdeen
I feel through the windscreen
as you once did while you lived –
the steadying warmth of the sun.


Passing clouds

We share the fate of clouds
and yet we keep on finding ways
to mark and claim the hours.

*

We share the fate of clouds
and so we keep on finding ways
to mark and claim the hours.

- Eduard Burle