Tales of Wolves, Spiders and Weeping Gods

Sharing a few of my older and smaller poems… just because

Between the shadow and the wolf

between the shadow and the wolf
an ancient Path there be
and mirrors are but shadows
if that wolf is me…

The Irony of memory

yesterday we had a fist full of tears
yesterday we coloured it with kool aid
and the monsters started to disappear
yesterday we said hello to god

Winter Reverie II

the acrimonious sun
tries its best
to bring a scintilla
of heat
to me today

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.

Ouderdoms beperking

wat is die ouderdoms beperking
van ellende
is mens te jonk om dood te voel?

Oor atome en popbang wees

Was jy al popbang? As jy al baie die wolf gelees het hier sal jy

Creation

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

Die val

Die val

In ‘n woud, as ‘n boom val
Is dit soos ‘n oer-knal
In my hart, as ‘n vriend val
Is daar ‘n abyss

En soms is die tou
net ‘n dinamiet lont
Wat korter en korter brand
Hoe red ek jou?

(C) 2013 allen simpson

 

Stigma

Oorlogswonde kleef soos hartseer monumente
Op die pokkevel van die Aarde
‘n stigmata
‘n siek bewys van hoe
Moeder Aarde stadig maar seker
sal sterf
Ons moet wakker word
Of heengaan

Dit is hoe die wêreld sterf
Nie met ‘n knal nie
Maar met ‘n geroggel

(C) 2013 allen simpson
Vir t s eliot – jammer ek steel

Equilibrium

In die hande van my weegskaal
Wil ek jou weeg
En weet al die goud van die aarde
Is nie so kosbaar soos jy nie
Tog is jy die veer in my hart
En die sterre in my hemel…

(C) 2013 allen simpson

 

#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

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.