'n venster na 'n ander wêreld



If I could turn into myself

Skin and bone,
my prison of alone
hidden skindeep Lees voort “If I could turn into myself”

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

the whispering

Oh pure night sky
taunting my spirit
calling me
I hear you whisper my name in the cold voices of the wind
For a moment there is nothing just you and me…
then that silver syrup tongue
that silent eye of the moon
haunts me to look…
I cannot, dare not look away
and there you whisper again…
There is an itch behind my shoulder blades
then a feeling as if something is burrowing a hole out in to the world,
to breathe…
spasms of pain erupt my frame
yet I cannot look away
I am prisoner of the lunacy only Luna can bring
the pain claws at my shoulders
I scream but no… no…
it is not my voice…
dear gods, what is this?
still I look not elsewhere
held in thrall
all I see is silver
all I feel is pain
I feel something dripping from my back
I reach and touch the pain
my hand is wet
with bravery I try to conjure
I hold my hand before me
red as a rose
my hand filled with my life, my blood

something crawl out of the wounds in my back
I see dark things move beside me
my wings…
I have wings

the whispers call me again
and I take flight…
to meet them….

(c) 2013 allen simpson


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