Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Sunset of the sunrise

Let me tell you about the girl i met last night
In a quiet busy bar during daytime
She came along as plain as day
as beautiful as the rising sun

She guided me by the hand or by the eyes or by the ears,
i really cant remember
we went outside and sat on the grassy sidewalk
under a tree
and spoke a little bit about her and me

She had an encouraging disapproval
she was no scientist or mathematician
but oh god wsa she pretty

And just like that she whisked out an easel
and a pallette and started painting
the bakkie accross the road
which carried a rack of tools and vegetables

though we had on one side the breathtaking mountain
with crevace like frozen sides and that silencing presence
on the other side we had the quietly thunderous ocean
dropping crystal blue swells almost on top of us

yet none of this was in the picture
that was drawn by this vision of mine

i was taken, in mind and in soul
and in everything else i had to give
smitten and sold and beyond love
with that avatar of heaven behind the blue eyes an heart stopping smile

But i will never see her again
not ever
that was a once in a lifetime experience
i wish it wasnt, and that i could just drop everything and go find her again

But by the end of tomorrow i'll probably have forgotten what she looks like

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

A fairytale called life

--A fairytale called life

Sometimes i feel like dying
and living my next life
as the shade of a tree
or the smell of rain on a hot day
and it is not a death wish
but a wish to be more beautiful than beauty itself

My god is in the forest, in the trees
she lives in a warm embrace, quickened breath
he has a house in the kind of pain that makes you feel like your skin is tearing from your soul
My god walks in the sky and is a dark-heavy cloud, angry with tears

my god is not your God
and asks nothing of me
only demands that i be free
and that i listen, think, see

my soul is in the trees and the streams
my heart in the moist earth and dusty dunes

when i die i will be forever silent
but i will scream with the wind
and howl with the wolves
and cry with ravens

i will cheer with the waterfalls
and sigh with the oceans
and i will grumble with the earth

sometimes i feel like dying
and being god
but it is not a death wish

--Stark Botha

Monday, June 18, 2012

My favourite part


My favourite part to look at 
Your eyes 
To kiss 
Your lips 
To feel under my fingertips 
Your cheeks 
To brush against my lips 
Your neck 
To feel pressed against my face 
Your breasts 
To roll over my tongue 
Your nipples 
To smell 
Your sweet salty skin 
To rub 
Your warm moist soul

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Big black patch of happiness to make me whole

Last night, what man looked at the same stars as do i tonight.
where is he or she who gazed up yesterday's eve
who looked up last night to meet the archer
like i greeted him tonight?

Which man, woman or beast
gazed at the stars to the east
on any of the nights gone past this week
whether by chance, purpose or answers they seek

Over whose heads did tonight's stars hang
when the moon was last full
under these stars was there anyone who sang
when the zodiac was still in the bull

in whose eyes did sparkle these lights
sparkle the year before,
these lights of infinite nights
in whose eyes,via surface or floor

tens of years ago
was there anyone I'd know
who stood under these stars

so the skies will fly
as they ever have flown
for longer than people have known
till long after the last man would die

our forefathers and mothers
made love under these same skies
our ancestors killed and ate
in the light of this very heavenly pate

from monkeys we came
from the ocean, all the same
millenia ago, as nights washed to and fro
on this curtain the winds of time would blow

In ages past they have inspired
men to believe them gods, fools
and even holes for ghouls
to heaven's pyres.

But to me they are a father that never died
a mother that never shy'd
a family that never crumbled
and a love i never fumbled.

- Stark Botha

Commiserate a bygone era

oh it hurts oh it burns
to think of the world gone by
the lives our fathers and mothers led
all gone up in ash and smoke
gone gone gone forever and away

little thoughts and big dreams
big hair and funny shoes that gleam
thinking of the loss
it almost makes me scream

poppy choppy hoppy jive
technofunky colours
in a world in a twirl
what a place what a place
to make my heart so race

in the days gone by
dear dad dear mom
did you ever feel this way
about the times before your day?

what of us, of us young folk
who now have to carry the yoke
sooner or later our youth, our lives, will choke
oh the notion of it, it makes my heart so broke

so here we are, brief sparks
best we embrace every opportunity that harks
make of it the best we can
by hook, crook or even by plan

oh sigh
oh sigh
the end seems ever nigh
sooner or later the bubble will pop
and our era will abrubruptly stop

usurped, upturned by a new kind of pop
made away made to be gay by a new kind of 'Hey!'

-Stark Botha

Life and Limbo

There is a life that some of you dont know.
There is a life i lead, that none of you know.
A life where it is the norm
To be so alone
that you can feel your soul bleeding.

So go on all of you, you all
enjoy your lives, so fruitful and full
of joy.
Your partners and families, uncles aunts and even dogs.
Go have your happy little life, without me.

Me, on the other hand,
let me sit here
like a laurel'd hero in my own world.
Akimbo of this vaudevillian life.

A veteran am i
on not being known
nor understood
but that is not chief of my fears

the monster that haunts me most
is the wasted hours by myself.
Is life really life in absence of fellows?
Is time spent alone, akin to hanging from the gallows?

- Stark Botha

Progressive Cacophony

If rain could speak, what would it say?
Yesterday, last night, tomorrow and today
Electric rain will splatter our faces
and leave of glory, absolutely no traces

The clouds that swirl
are hounds of fog in our minds
billowing soot and smog
a heavy laden blanket that blinds

The wind that howls and gusts
could never upturn the gales of our lusts

All hail, all hail all the hail
the bombs of our natures
rained down and left craters
that soon became history's braile

We are a force that should be reckoned with
a force that was borne of nature
So we erupt on a technological plinth,
we will get our own back, but only much too later.

-Stark Botha