'n venster na 'n ander wêreld



So I smoke

Yes, I smoke. You can call it a filthy habit or a guilty pleasure and yes we all have reasons why we smoke, all seven million South Africans each has his or her reasons and I don’t judge. I hope you don’t as well, or at least, you are not one to force you anti-smoking beliefs on us. We don’t need to be arseholes about things that we don’t approve off, do we. Lees voort “So I smoke”

bedtime story

bedtime story

She laid there in the bed
tubes and machines beeping
her lips, so red Lees voort “bedtime story”


Burning tires
Shopping fires
Ashes dancing in the wind
The fruits of xenophobia
And lit hands that forgot God Lees voort “Joyful”

we die and our lovers are left behind

we die and our lovers are left behind
we die each day when we change Lees voort “we die and our lovers are left behind”

Tragic Skies

under tragic blue skies
you threw words like stones at me
you said it was my fault Lees voort “Tragic Skies”

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”

Childhood Opium

She said dreams are but shattered glass
She painted pictures in grey
She faded and was spirited away Lees voort “Childhood Opium”


My beautiful orange cat, Pikachu, only five months old, was poisoned by someone in our neighbourhood. He died right in front of me yesterday and there was nothing I could do.  His mom, my cat Arrow pleaded with me to help Pikachu and I tried my best but it was too late. I know death well, I know the signs because my mother died in front of me and once I tried to save a man’s life and he died in front of me… A cat dying is the same… We all die the same… Our other cat, Rinkhals disappeared last night. I have no words… She is probably dead too… Lees voort “Pikachu”

We are naked

Naked, we are pushed from the womb,
like blind cute little earthworms
pretty, pretty

what will we become
transformed like silkworms
we spin our cocoons
will we ascend to flutter by
or like moths seek death at
the candle’s flame

we are lost in life
we are forgotten
we are forever touching blindly

we go naked into the great beyond.

(c) 2011 Allen Simpson

Photo Copyright: Allen Simpson and Hanneliese Bredell

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