About the poet:
Addey, my friend's husband. South African, a senior engineer who loves family and life. We have never met before. If we quote a Chinese idiom: "Seeing words as faces". We have already known each other. In my opinion, Addey's poems have a broad vision, elegant words, desolation and loneliness hidden in them. His poems are permeated with humanistic thinking and feelings of life. I believe readers will like it! I also look forward to more poems by Addey...
诗人简介：
Addey，我朋友的丈夫。南非人，一位深爱家庭和生活的高阶工程师。我们未曾谋面，如果引用中国的一个成语：“见字如面” 的话，我们早已相识了。Addey的诗歌在我看来，其视野高阔，文辞优雅，内藏苍凉与寂寞，饱含着人文思考与生活感触。相信读者会喜欢！我也期待Addey的更多诗作……
On this day, the 16th May
May 2018
We stroll on a late Autumn day
which happens to be the 16th May
like every other 16th May
like every other forgotten day
Rusty-brownleaves lie strewn
like small helpless heaps of brittle ruin
like heroes of last Spring scattered
like days that never mattered
And the last 16th May?
What I was thinking?
Were my senses dull, gay?
Vibrantly ringing?
Or was that day like today will be tomorrow
Hinting at regret, that subtle hue of sorrow
Awind-blown weightless load
Another crumpled leaf, anchorless in the road
Natasha and Rachel and Daniel and Catherine and Gabriel
July 2018
I have five pairs of footprints in the sand
Some run here, and some run there
And for each I carry a special care
Eacha golden gossamer strand
That anchored my soul
In the lonely spaces
of this life's land
Like Whitman's spider, I think I found
Unknowingly, so long ago
That ductile anchor in oceans wide,
Andas I sit in aged glow
I clearly see how the current's tide
Will deliver me joyous to the solemn divide 20200114095500_bb79923c5195dc165e5d3fd807b02b61_3.jpeg (84.92 KB, 下载次数: 84)
2020-8-1 23:43 上传
Akiddie's party in winter in Irene
July 2018
Seated around the adult's table
In the gracious, expansive golf estate
We all appear so in control
Urbane, smooth, small talk; no thinking required
Such worldly, comfortable, successful people
The black guy at the head of the table
His strange (to me, this white guy) accent
Lilting, rhythmic, French-like?
I knew he wasn't from here
His beautiful dark wife, their beautiful dark children
Akiddie's party; balloons, strewn cake everywhere
Crushed candy, spilled soda, potato chips; typical party fare
The kids clearly were having fun
The adults, so relaxed, in the late afternoon sun
No disturbing this perfect picture that I'm trying to share
The black guy talking to the Chinese woman
“In my country...” (I caught a snippet)
“Since the genocide... (Another snippet)
“People still missing...disappearing...(snippet)
(snippet)“...fear...killing...political, freedom?”
But the woman's eyes, ears, mouth and nose were elsewhere
Utter disinterest in this oh-so-common African story
Her body kept pulling away, to the Ukrainian friend she'd made
Since leaving (free?) China, to come live in free South Africa
(So nice to escape from the crush of the world)
The black's guy's body, leaning forward, so tense,
Trying to break through the thick air of indifference
Slowly perceiving, shifting to address the table at large
He ended up talking to the trees and the reeds
the grass, the birds and the bees
At some point, he caught my eye, a desperate hold
I nodded and smiled, tried not to be cold
Oh, we made such a rainbow around that table
Each of us, so close, yet separated by infinity
Each colour a reminder of something so nasty
The Sea
October2018
The twin girl tourists followed us, down to the surf
White-skinned and fair, Bodies so sleek
Shy- or perhaps: to take a surreptitious peek
at our glistening naked behinds
We turned, bodies beckoned, smiling an invitation
White and brown we stared at each other
feeling the heat of the perfect day
While behind us the bracingly cold Atlantic water
pounded on to the sandy bay
The ndown and under the foam-topped waves
Hot and powerful our bodies heaving
tangled and tumbled in the churning water
And rising, gasping, breathing
as down the water streamed
We played until the dreaming night
Enthused we were, for an eternity, it seemed
Drenched in sun and sea and pure delight
I remember that they said goodbye
in halting, tentative English
then they left: and David and I
Stared morosely as they walked, slowly, reluctantly away
The endlessly thrilling possibilities fading with the dying day
We hiked back north, privately remembering
making boyish jokes of things that could happen
He returned to his math and engineering
and I to my failing and obscure Latin
I think now of that day, so many ages ago
Again, I see her rise,
naked, from the white surging flow,
The perfect day reflected in glistening blue eyes,
Her body poised, slim and fair
Her shoulders dressed coyly with salt-tangled hair
Pink nipples erect, an eternity of welcome
And I, naïve, clumsy, unsure, clung to the foam
Then dove back into the sea, hiding from home
The Karoo of my Soul
January2019
The road stretched endlessly, lazily ahead
Like a strip of liquorice on a dry sandy bed
The sun, like a hammer of heat from hell,
Beat down on our cosy air-conditioned shell
To the left, grey-white clouds eyed the dry plain
Theirs an empty promise of life-giving rain
Giving with pregnant soft weight, a lover’s caress
to the hard dolerite head of a hillock buttress
The hillock and cloud killing at birth
the dream of relief for the thirsty dry earth
In all directions the land lay dry
Beneath an unforgivingly clear blue sky
Koppies, some grandiose, rearing
and others like soft round breasts, endlessly endearing
Yet the shadows they cast and the succour they share
are but fleeting moments in a landscape so bare
As some are born to sweet delight
And others to darkest night
so effortlessly we roll through desolate land,
Over hot shimmering tarmac on hot shimmering sand
And now Hanover behind and Laingsburg ahead
I'm desperately thinking of my Cape Town bed
Already I see a glorious sunset, the sea's gentle swell:
Just as soon as we can hurry past the Cape Flats smellThis body, this ancient dust
December2018
As with age my body slows
And through tired limbs the knowledge grows
That soon my dust the Earth will sweep
And briefly round my loved will weep
Briefly, though, I say it true
For soon their own will falter too
Through Time's relentless creep
Their youthful vigour, alas, will seep
And before the end, if such there be,
Their dust will ‘cross this Earth blow free
And as time passes, ineluctably
With mine will mingle, joyously
This stuff of Earth, this fertile loam
This our final resting home
Would that now, knowing such
Could we spread love, through every touch?
A poem of Life, A poem of Death
My son, my daughter, precious as the smile of God
What for you in the road ahead?
I cannot help but see life’s dread
Waiting like thunder above your head
Your life, uncertain as the dawning day
Fills me with joy and fearful hope
Would that I could take your load as dray
And ease your way up every slope
Carry you, staggering, if need be
Up every hill and down every path
So that the divinity of your joy
Remains absolute for all to see
Haiku (sort of)
July 2018
My son's face tranquil
In gentle sleep dreaming
I kiss his cheek
This wave lifts me
Fiercely submerges my body rolling
I surface and breathe
The old man stumbles
Catching his arm, I steady him
A glimpse of winter
I crush the leaves
My boot randomly Destroying
Creating Spring
My daughter, impish face smiling
With unbounded love
My heart swells
And overwhelms the Universe
Haiku (+)
July 2018
I am black girl she said
through brown eyes
She smells like heaven
I breathe her in
Winter comes again
So many, so many
On the horizon
The last one stares at me
The beat of my heart at night
A countdown to oblivion
How many thuds remain?