'n venster na 'n ander wêreld


September 2014




“Birds sing after a storm, why shouldn’t people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?” – Rose Kennedy

there’s a hymn of starlight in the air tonight
and clouds scar the obsidian black sky
there are whispers in the cells of my being tonight
a cool wind blows and I feel alive

behold the death
behold the new life

there is a rush of sanguine pleasures in my veins
it burns and bubbles towards the change
a new creature awaits to come forth
the moon is pregnant and creation pauses

behold the death (I am dying)
behold the new life (this is my rebirth)

transformations rush over me
skin dissolve to ashes of the past
a new me breaks forth from the cocoon
the night is young and soon…

behold the new life
behold the little wolf has come
behold death is past
behold the resurrection

(c) 2014 allen simpson
I love the werewolf myths, it is fun to play there. Metamorphasys, the poem’s name is a play on the words ‘metamorphosis’, ‘phase’ and ‘status’  with some funky liberties on correct spelling. It has been said that we poets are the creators of new words. Here is my creation.

I took this photo for this poem deliberately. I call it ‘Transformation’

the key of the storm – a wolfshadowwhispers mini review

In the mood to read someone out of the box. a poet, writer and fellow heretic that really put the word awesome in the art of free thinking then visit the key of the storm (click on it). Darren Storer will bedazzle you with his verbal creations.

Here is a sample:

What path did lead
Through Spring and Summer
To this realm
So full of colour ?
How did I come
To be here at all
To watch how leaves
So change, then fall ?

(c) darren storer

ashes scattered in the wind

cinere in ventum dispergentur
you and me
after the flame
the aftermath of our passion
the lingering desires remain

cinere in ventum dispergentur
yet we still touch
yet we still feel a storm stirring
the pull to each-other like gravity
we fall into each-other like gravity

cinere in ventum dispergentur
yet the sparks remain
yet the fire returns
once more we are aflame
will we wake up from this
flames scattered in the wind…

cinere in ventum dispergentur
et flammas in ventum dispergentur

(c) 2014 allen simpson
Perdita, meus ignis, et cinis

ENIGMA – Age of Loneliness (Carly´s Song)



Carly don’t be sad
Life is crazy
Life is mad
Don’t be afraid Lees voort “ENIGMA – Age of Loneliness (Carly´s Song)”

the empty fool

the lambs are led once again
to the abattoir of your emptiness
you said you’ll tell the truth
yet again so many are lost

into iron chambers led to die
in breathlessness
you hold your nation in thrall
and shed blood, but the hollows remain

millions died for what for what
just for you it seems
and the seeds of your hatred
still grows in rot

who will bare witness to this genocide
even angels turn away and cry
mein herr, you are lost
in your own designs

(c) 2014 allen simpson

Adolph Hitler was a very sick man. This poem is about him. This poem is dedicated to his victims. May the genocides end.

Clan of Xymox – Creatures



A shadow glides above my plate
And all I see is birds migrate
Going south, remember me
When you fly above the sea Lees voort “Clan of Xymox – Creatures”

when voices are silent

a blank page is but a silent word
a paragraph waiting to be spoken
a promise of an utterance
for the silence to be broken

i sit here with longing
the words are here
but they won’t leave my hand
the page is still empty

give me the will, the words
whisper in my ear again
i long to hear the voices again
depraved of my madness i am

even a madman crave his fix
when voices are silent
the madness have no company
no companion to give reason to my dementia

there are just silent echoes here now
they are deafening me
and i fear i will fade away

(c) 2014 allen simpson
inspired by allan edgar poe (of course)

dit is stil (en die wind)

dit is stil en die wind
en ek mymer en dink
tyd staan stil
‘n vlieg kom sit op my leë koffiebeker
sy arrogante vryf van voorpote
soos ‘n tweedehandse ys verkoper aan ‘n eskimo
en ek dink hoeveel oomblikke het ek verkoop aan Vader Tyd
tyd is die subtielste van diewe
jy het dit nooit nie, tog het jy dit altyd.

daar is skimme in my kop
dit is stil…

en die wind

‘n vlieg verlaat die koffiebeker
tyd beweeg

(c) 2014 allen simpson


In die droë herfsblare in ‘n boek
tussen die ou reuke van bloekomblaar en mint
het ek gaan verdwaal en jou gaan soek

In die argiewe van akasha
met net ‘n silwer lyn om
my in die doolhof terug te lei
het ek ‘n krummeltjie van jou probeer kry

en iewers tussen seisoene het ek
(daar was iewers ‘n lag in die nag)
op middernag ‘n kers gebrand, jou naam geroep
(daar was eggos van jou-onthou in my hart)

nogsteeds was jy net soos ‘n naald in ‘n naaldhoop
so baie soos jy
maar niks kon ek kry

en op ‘n ashoop tussen Gisters en Verlore Kanse
het Hoop geblink soos die son
iets het geskitter en dit was jy.

(iemand het ‘n lappop op die ashoop)
weg gegooi
(was jy)
maar ek het jou gevind.

(c) 2014 allen simpson
Vir Babatjie



there is a drop in the ocean
and it carriers my name

there is a speck of dust
in the vastness of space
it is me

i am small
and in the littleness
i find something greater than i am

something both beautiful and fearful
i find the SOURCE of Everything
and we are all HER children

(c) 2014 allen simpson
Photo and Poem Copyrighted

Elusive – The Circle Never Ends



There’s a lonely room I’m lost within
and reasons fall in a black hole heart
on a nowhere ride through the ruins of your love
Come through your pain Come through your Lees voort “Elusive – The Circle Never Ends”

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