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wolfshadowwhispers

'n venster na 'n ander wêreld

Tussen engele

 

‘Neem my op vlerke Engel, ek wil soos jy,  op duisend reënboë dans net soos jy’

– Anneli van Rooyen

Iemand het een dag vertel dat as iemand dood gaan word die persoon ‘n engel word. Ek weet nie waar die oningeligte dromer sy kennis vandaan gekry het nie. Daar staan niks in die Bybel oor mense wat engele word nie. Engele is wesens wat in mense kan verander en wat duiwels kan word… dit weet ek. Ek weet ook daar is vertel dat Satan God se mooiste Engel was, maar ander het weer beweer die duiwel het ‘n bokkop… wat is so mooi aan ‘n bokkop? Mense maak mekaar net deurmekaar. Lees voort “Tussen engele”

Ouderdoms beperking

wat is die ouderdoms beperking
van ellende
is mens te jonk om dood te voel? Lees voort “Ouderdoms beperking”

Oor atome en popbang wees

Was jy al popbang? As jy al baie die wolf gelees het hier sal jy Lees voort “Oor atome en popbang wees”

Creation

Creation, a tickle term
a soul fuse with egg and sperm
brought into this world
before the child breathes Lees voort “Creation”

#sug {pyn}

Wat weet ‘n man van ‘n vrou se pyn, van geboorte gee, van maandstonde,
van hoe oud al die aktrises word in die tydskryfte
en hoe vrou voel as Angelina se foto so oud lyk (en jirre sy is so oud soos ek?)
wat weet ‘n man van ‘n vrou se pyn Lees voort “#sug {pyn}”

The Many-Angled Eyes (the complete ode to Lovecraft)

The Many-Angled Eyes

‘Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes’ Ancient Latin Warning

(I) unborn

torn
before born
from the womb

o Universe, they are empty
o Universe, they are alone
words have
no fury
like words
never spoken
closed, they are open…

(II) Exodus

then from the primordial ooze
nothing left to lose
crawling into an ocean
they take Aeons to return

to the promise of land…

(III) Orphan’s eye

black eyes beneath the ocean
what do you see?
why do you cry?
beneath the waves, you crave…

but never die…

looking out
looking at the Universe…
through an orphan’s eye…

(IV) Dagon

Caught in Dagon’s eye
you changed from a pupa to butterfly
twisted and warped
you serve a god who is not a god
something from the abortion of outer space

(V) Exodia

then from the outer space
falling like a thousand morning stars
burning into an ocean
warping oh forgotten ones

to later devour innocent human flesh…

(VI) black eye

black eye beneath the ocean
what do you see?
why do you crave?
beneath the waves, you crawl

like the hunger, eternal

black eye
looking at the Universe…
discarded like a bauble-god

(c) 2012 – 2017 Allen Simpson

Photo by Hanneliese Bredell

H.P. Lovecraft was a horror writer in the early 1900s in America. He inspired many writers like Stephen King and Alan Moore. I wanted to write my worn Lovecraftian poem channelling some of his Cthulu-mythos into my poem. I give you my poem, at last, completed after five years.

 

 

I am so happy, I can’t escape myself

My mascara is runny, my lipstick is smeared
my cigarettes are just ashes
my black stockings are torn

I am so happy, I can’t escape myself Lees voort “I am so happy, I can’t escape myself”

in cold colours

winter’s pale breath blows
its howling screech whispers forgotten names
of yesterdays that the bias ignorant
want to keep hidden in the dust of snow Lees voort “in cold colours”

Wolfie kook Serwiese Boon Bredie


Kyk die Wolf is lief vir eksperimenteer in die kombuis. Nou onslangs het ek ‘n
resep vir Serwiese Boon Bredie ontdek op YouTube en dit het so lekker geklink
dat ek toe besluit het om die resep aan te pak. Die resep bestaan uit 4 fases. Lees voort “Wolfie kook Serwiese Boon Bredie”

Deadly serious a horror story

Want to hear a horror story? Let me tell you one. We all have had a family member or loved one that died and we wished that said family member would return from the dead. Not a ‘Walking Dead’ or ‘Zombie’, but as the version of the deceased we grew up with and loved. Lees voort “Deadly serious a horror story”

Die Pokémon se Gô is nog nie uit nie.

 

Ek en Pokemon loop ‘n lang pad. Sien toe ek jonger was en saam met my vriende hulle klein boeties  of sussies op gepas het was daar ‘n TV reeks oor ‘n outjie genaamd Ash wat die wêreld rond gereis het met oulike diere. Lees voort “Die Pokémon se Gô is nog nie uit nie.”

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