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When I had but you to fill
When I was one part shadow
A gecko on the walls of your heart
Through your halls I roamed
Of my own hapless hollowing
My life spent in following
I moved to your music
Unconsciously, deliciously, un-nutritiously, and viciously confined
I was happy to be
The impact of a heartbeat’s echo
It made me feel twice as alive
While your anger pulled me
You had me so empty
In the glorious sound
Of a majestic echo
In the limitless possibilities of my own big bang
I rang and resounded
And I lost sight of your face
Within that sepulchral space
I ceased calling you friend
I stopped living for you
Because I never knew I didn’t end…
But now I do.
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 6 June, 2011
She spun a cocoon
The colour of a silent moon
Of her lost and un-gained.
She bound bone to bone
Stitched smile to song
And calmly coloured her cries
In the shades of reason gone wrong.
But when she saw
That her loss was a learning curve
Not a noun, but a verb —
She shed her silken armour
Turned her body to the sun
And remembered the shape of a hug in her arms
In time to embrace her battle undone.
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 26 November, 2010
You were beautiful in Borneo
Like a song I’d been expecting
To start playing on the stereo
I was fragile when you found me
A lifetime’s worth of sorrow
And disappointment built around me
But you gave me a standing ovation
A merry-go-round of applause
And cut through my curt conversation
With your musical mixed metaphors
You asked me why I was waiting
For something already long gone
And suddenly all of that aching
Disappeared in the song of a swan
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 24 March, 2010
Jy was ‘n silwer seisoen
Versier met groen verassings
Ek was natuur se weduwee
Jy kon duidelik sien
My siel was was vas betrap
In ‘n gebreekte grafsteen.
En ek het niks geweet
Van roomys drome, wilger bome
Of die heiligheid van somer reën.
Ek sal nooit vergeet
Hoe, in die sterlig
Jy my naam verander het
En in jou vrugbare voetspore
Was ek van voor af gebore
Terwyl jy, in die sonsopkoms van my toekoms
Vir my ‘n sandkasteel bou.
I wanted to love you
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 23 December, 2009
I wanted to love you
But I didn’t know how
Or when or where
I couldn’t find a space
Between the abrasions on your heart
On which to lay my head.
I tread softly between
But I couldn’t find a place
To build my happiness
I tried to find a lily pad
On the surface of that red river
On which to float.
I swam in vain
In search of a smile
On the bottom of that plasma pool.
So I honoured the voice inside my head
I let you go, kissed you and said,
“I wish I’d never met you.”
I caressed you one last time
To separate your pain from mine.
I don’t even think you noticed
Me skipping down the street
And how I left that heap of despair
As die lewe soms oorspoel
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 21 October, 2009
Jy laat my dink aan fynbos en heuning
Ek voel jou rustigheid in my spiere se spanning
In die spasies tussen my kinderdae
En die masker wat ek deesdae dra
Skenk jy vir my ‘n kussing
Daars ‘n sagte plek in die holte van jou nek
Waar my trane versamel en verdamp
Jou woorde weef self-vertroue deur my vlegsel
Terwyl jou oë my leegheid blou inkleur en met vere voltooi
Jy neem die haat wat aan my ligaam klou
Saggies tussen jou vingers
En laat dit vry
Jou asem, koel teen my klam vel, verlam my
My vuiste ontvou teen jou bors en ondek jou hart se ritme
Uitgeput teen jou skouer
En opgekrul soos ‘n baba
Draai jy my in drome toe
En in die holte van jou hand
Lê daar ‘n klip
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 3 August, 2009
Die ou vrou sit en pyp rook op die stoep
Terwyl die son sak
Sy sien my raak
En begin te roep.
Jy lyk net soos jou vader.”
Wat ek nooit sou verwag nie
Gooi sy haar arms om my lyf
Sy druk my styf.
En sy lyk net soos ‘n spook
Sy ryk na rook
Daar is dele van my lewe wat verdwyn.
Help my hul vind.”
Soos herfs se blaare.
Sy rus haar kop op my skouer
Sy haal moeilik asem
Jou hart klop nes jou ma s’n.”
Om ons word dit stadig skemer
Om ons word dit skielik somer
Hou my nader vas.”
“Want jy ryk nes ek,” sê sy.
“Toe ek nog mens was.”
Published by Ilva Pieterse on 8 March, 2009
She lives her life as a book with intricate pages
I can smell them on her. I smell books on my mother. She reeks of their shrieking, pongs of their pulsing.
I cry her a book
With my tears, I mold a wet life for us
My mother makes me cry because she is in me
When I whisper, her eyes close
When she whispers, I become still.
Mother, when I was small, you had broad arms and strong wrists for me
You still carry me in a variety of ways.
Now, I want to carry you – your body, your heart, your soul
I will make myself so strong that I can carry it all – on my back, with my arms, inside my mouth
The day you placed me outside of you, I never wanted to let go.
I pulled, you pushed.
You pulled and I pushed.
The friction caused a dictionary.
And we rewrote our souls. Our soul twins.
I’ll never let you go, wherever you are…
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