Deon Eben Van Der Merwe Poetry

There are a lot of reasons why a poet never leave his bed why a poet never cuts his hair why a poet drinks himself to death why a poet jumps out of a moving train there are a lot of reasons, believe me -Peter Horn, Listening to a voiceless voice The picture outside my window seems faded and elapsed... Sign in to see full entry.

October was already taken I had to settle with September. “ I am so in love ” my misguided truth “I am extremely happy for you.” Brown pants White top Black jacket She glided her head Adjusting her orange sunglasses I slip,I slide with every movement of her mouth with every word she speaks with... Sign in to see full entry.

Glittering sound Of beer bottles Being held up high In salute of cheers Strong voices In sound of laughter And loud conversations Drunk long forgotten Tales of senseless whispers A place where decisions Is made Where no-where-else-friends Gather Lust to be wed Complains of unthinkable High prices of... Sign in to see full entry.

Taurus stormed in the sky surrounded by unaffectionate stars. Bided for all time passing. Smiles, fingers pointing, this symbol of classification radiant on perception would have smiled relieved from consolidation Sign in to see full entry.

I crawl then I fall, I lie then I die In this place I cannot emerge my face I relate to my cigarette as the light goes on green At times I’m high on red of wine the glimmer glass takes me to the barrel of grapes I'm confident Now I portray myself as fame eager to turn a new love over and I only kind... Sign in to see full entry.

Under the employed transport bridge the dolefull clothes hang washed and unclean the low tide stream water washes over jar hands while another man's brother tries to wash his face buried beneath the gravel of a many man's creation lays a slumber spoiled; above a forgotten world the traffic move... Sign in to see full entry.

Fortunes tell me to this a shoe: my heart tied to a lace in Picasso I once shared and I paid dividends on gravel "be silent be still" - the hereditary the amble paths,the miscalculation the inner silence proud the way I chose to drown I look to glass to talk amazed at the cuts on my toe I lay down... Sign in to see full entry.

A Man was taken by a smile, a smile so open,friendly and pure that it reminded him of a rose freshly opened in the new morning dew. Each peddle,perfection Each leave,affection Her soft skin called for him to touch,a kind touch because this rose was fragile under his hardened hands. Each... Sign in to see full entry.

Winter carried in his hand the broken glass once beautifully shaped pumped pleasures plundering and paper red the disavowed summer once poured down for. The snow colorblinded the footprint when the wind blowed the tide into the wrong direction the map ambiguous dope died when the summer clouds left... Sign in to see full entry.

Eagerness,the un-winded stories:all now untold that much was the journey,the wondrous roots cast around,now taken,the memories misappropriate and nicked by innocence at moonlight even the passion,the love,now lumped toward,elapsed and faded,that which I once favored,once cured and treasured the... Sign in to see full entry.