1. |
The Hermit
06:53
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THE HERMIT AT OUTERMOST HOUSE
Sky and sea, horizon-hinged
Tablets of blank blue, couldnt,
clapped shut, flatten this man out.
The great gods, Stone-Head,
Claw-Foot,
Winded by much rock-bumping
And claw-threat realized that.
For what, then, had they endured
Dourly the long hots and colds,
Those old despots, if he sat
Laugh-shaken on his doorsill,
Backbone unbendable as
Timbers of his upright hut?
Hard gods where there,
nothing else.
Still he thumbed out something else.
Thumbed no stony, horny pot,
But a certain meaning green.
He withstood them, that hermit.
Rock-face, crab-claw verged on green.
Gulls mulled in the greenest light.
Sylvia Plath
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2. |
Eyeless in a Spaza
04:36
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EYELESS IN A SPAZA
Speaking with the voice
of the voiceless
Walking with the feet of the legless
Touching with the hands
of the armless
Looking through the eyes
of the eyesless
Eyesless in a Spaza
Ears mouth teeth eyes wide,
ready lets go
Shes driving him hard shes planning to get him all the way there
Her Greyhound she loves him so shes getting inside him shes
touching his blood shes breathing his breath shes driving him hard.
Looking through the Eyes of the Eyeless touching with the Arms
of the Armless
Shes creeping inside
Shes touching his blood shes
thinking his thoughts
Shes tasting his drool
Seeing with his eyes
Seeing with his smell
Shes driving him hard shes gonna get him all the way there
Shes got a Greyhound,
She knows him so well
His eyes His ears His smell he is her Greyhound
and so on and so forth...
Juliana Venter / Marcel Van Heerden
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3. |
Snorkel
04:10
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SNORKEL
met n saxofoon soos n snorkel
duik die paddaman in die seance
n seeraaf duik n seeperd
uit die water
n seevark wei tussen seekomkommer
n seenimf wag met seebene
vir seduksie
tussen perels en seesterre
n seekoei herkou aan seewier
n seekat staan met n vis in die bek
n seenimf le tussen seesterre en perels
n paddaman met n saxofoon
duik af en af in die seance n seepbel
is voor die neus van n seeskilpad beelde verdof
in strome borreltjies
Johan Van Wyk
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4. |
Tiger
03:57
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THE TYGER
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearfull symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand?
and what dread feet?
What the hammer?what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil?what dread grasp
Dare ist deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down
their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger !Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearfull symmetry?
William Blake
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5. |
Rifrughond
02:47
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RIFRUGHOND
my ingewandekoors
sien hoe jy jou inklimgordel
uitklim soos n rekruut uit n renmotor
ek is n rifrughond
in n orkaan in n inham
ek ruik aan die roeskleur visse
en ritteltit van die koue aan jou
robuuste
soos n ruimteman aan n slang
Johan Van Wyk
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6. |
Mr Richman
03:02
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MR RICHMAN
you let me work
but you keep the bread
oh mr richman
you dont know hard times
you pass me wine
no way in this cage
im hooked;gods my witness
i better die-
wallow in wine and blood
meneer i tried
myself i cannot kill
meneer i hate
now, my hate is blind
now im going to love-
like hell im gunna luv yu
ill use youre tools:
ill drink the wine
but only after the bread-
gods my witness
in flesh and blood
Wopko Jensma
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7. |
Stars in the cement
08:17
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STARS IN THE CEMENT IN MEMORIE OF NIEL GOEDHALS
Jump jump why dont you
you can step onto that thin white air flutter by do or dddd die
into dark cement
but to die oh doctor
is the last thing i should do
to take the blue lift
to that narrow ledge
to see the stars in the cement
But you, you went there
you where laughing while you burnt
you took the steps to that final ledge
to see the stars in the cement
Jump jump why dont you
you can step onto that thin white air
flutter by do wa dididi die into dark cement
But to die, oh doctor is the last thing
i shall do
to take the steps untill a final ledge
to write my name in wet cement
Marcel Van Heerden
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8. |
The Bat
05:46
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THE BAT
Lo! the Bat with the leathern wing,
Winking and blinking,
Winking and blinking,
Winking and blinking,
Like Dr Johnson.
O ho! said Dr. Johnson
To Scipio Africanus,
A ha! to Dr. Johnson
Said Scipio Africanus,
if you dont own me a philosopher
ill kick youre Roman anus
O ha! said Dr Johnson to Scippio Africanus lift up my Roman petticoat and kiss my Roman anus
Oh oh oh oh
Oh my poor sides
i should die if i was live here oh oh oh
farasobora farasobora ah ah ah farasobora
this frog he would a wooing ride
kitty alone kitty alone
this frog he would a wooing ride
sing cock i carry kitty alone kitty alone and i
low the bat with the leathern wing
Winking and blinking
Winking and blinking
Winking and blinking
Like Dr Johnson
oh oh oh oh oh my poor sides
iii should die if i was to live here oh oh oh farasobora farasobora farasobora
as i walked forth one may morning
to see the fields so pleasant and so gay
oh there did i find a young maiden so sweet among the violets that smell so sweet oh so sweet
hang youre violets heres some rum and water
Lo! the Bat with the leathern wing
Winking and blinking
Winking and blinking
Winking and blinking
like Dr Johnson
William Blake excerpts.
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9. |
Boerekraut
07:41
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BOEREKRAUT
Get up dont wait the worlds a dream
ill walk with you
ill be youre feet
ill be youre sun, youre moon
The worlds a cup of water.
The tree bursts of hollow laughter
into the world of mindfullness
you shimmer me, i reach out the light burns me aha ha
I can go under to rest
and wait for you to grow
Youre head in the clouds
O come its getting late too late for running water,
too late for running water
too late for nubile growth
too late for burning high
get up dont wait,
The worlds a dream
ill walk with you
ill be youre feet
ill be youre sun youre moon
Juliana Venter
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10. |
Polly's tree
03:53
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POLLY'S TREE
A dream tree, Polly's tree:
a thicket of sticks,
each speckled twig
ending in a thin-paned
leaf unlike any
other on it
or in a ghost flower
flat as paper and
of a colour
vaporish as frost-breath,
more finical than
any sik fan
the Chinese ladies use
to stir robin's egg
air. The silver -
haired seed of the milkweed
comes to roost there, frail
as the halo
rayed round a candle flame,
a will-o'-the-wisp
nimbus,or puff
of cloud stuff, tipping her
queer candelabrum.
Palely lit by
snuff-ruffed dandelions,
white daisy wheels and
a tiger-faced
pansy, it glows.O it's
no family tree,
Polly's tree, nor
a tree of heavan, though
it marry quartz-flake,
feather and rose.
It sprang from her pillow
whole as a cobweb,
ribbed like a hand,
a dream tree.Polly's tree
waers a valentine
arc of tear-pearled
bleeding hearts on ist sleeve
and, crowning it, one
blue larkspur star.
Sylvia Plath
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11. |
Can Temba
04:04
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CAN TEMBA
In Sophia town Can Temba climbs the steps or what is left of them
he opens the door of a house full onto the sky
and stands gaping over the edge
For this was the place the world ended
Then he locked up carefully lest someone steal
then he went back downstairs and
settled himself
to wait to wait for the house to rise again
for his peoples legs and arms to be stuck back in place
In the morning they found him
Cold as stone sparrows pecking his eyes
In the morning they found him cold as stone sparows pecking his eyes
Wopko Jensma
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12. |
I know no heroes
05:32
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When youre soft flesh and bone fists
Finally gone blue beating marble walls
Why,those walls just vanished
Oh yes,jose afonso,what now?
What now,as the soldiers breed roses
Roses in their bent gun barrels
The cage that kept the dove behind bars
Those bars have shaken out my guts
Yes jose,drive those brass tacks home
In these subterranean rooms
My entrails under paper weights
I keep singing this song
Of one thousand unmade beds
Of one thousand dust bins
Of one thousand dark alleys
Of one thousand chicken livers
(neatly tied in plastic packs)
as i turn stones on my life
grab scorpions sleight of hand
unwind untie the poison sting
let the past slip down my gullet
i wrote no lines since i saw you last
in fact i have nothing more to say
the sky is blue the leaves are green
i take what come i give with caution
the yacht ride at anchor in the bay
next month and autumn cooler waether
i pay off my past debt by instalments
wopko jensma
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