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Besoek die aktiewe LitNet-platform by www.litnet.co.za

This is the LitNet archive (2006–2012)
Visit the active LitNet platform at www.litnet.co.za


 
Nuwe skryfwerk | New writing > Poësie | Poetry > English > Unpublished poets

Unpublished poets


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Learning about Rhyming Couplets
Simon Verster Du Toit-Kombuis - 2011-10-13


Lebohang Nova Masango’s "To Do List for Africa"
Lebohang Nova Masango - 2011-09-01


Fairy Tale Files
Heidi Henning - 2011-08-02
Untitled Document Fairy Tale Files Pull out Top-secret evidence The villain is a tough act Disclosed Unknown Pull out The magnifying glass Sherlock The facts speak out Find it The room will reveal itself Where was the princess Hiding? Who is an ugly sister? Cross-examine Rethink Reopen the box Was Snow White really choking? How lost Were Hansel and Gretel Really? The Frog Prince May not be as trapped as he says. Re-exhibit Take the stand Rework the ponds The forests The castles Do it. Promise,...

Song of the JuJu man
James Whyle - 2011-07-14
Untitled Document Song of the JuJu man The pale thieves, the pale murderers They must go The pale ones must leave They must take everything they brought with them Roll up the roads and the telephone wires Coil up the cables of our knowledge The books and the poetry and the plays The medicine and the science and the radio The Einstein and the Engels, the Freud and the Fanon Take away the entangled particles and the big bang Take away the computers and the steel and the seeds Take English away, and...

checklist
Celesté Fritze - 2011-06-29


hawking
Celesté Fritze - 2011-06-29
Untitled Document hawking I long for the ancient and the elegant symbol of the noble – a single merlin, with slender, pointed wings, climbing, sailing, diving fiercely for its prey seizing, clutching in its claws, the quiet and the surreal striking with a single blow of the beak soaring swiftly, gliding noiselessly on the wing nerve endings responding to the feeding call never losing its sneering distrust of its captor, of memories handed down on the fists of kings I wait for a falconer...

Notice to new mothers
Adriaan Coetzee - 2011-06-14


Every day
Heidi Henning - 2011-04-26


Misheard
Heidi Henning - 2011-04-05


Fear bedfellow
Dane Matthews - 2011-03-23


Leopard’s Leap 60-woorde-kompetisie: Bewaar ons erfenis
Trudie Jordaan - 2011-03-10


Leopard’s Leap 60 words competition: I have a place in Africa
Marisa Nortje - 2011-03-10


Leopard’s Leap 60 words competition: Diamonds
Michelle Gross - 2011-03-03


Kompetisie: Minotaur I
Esther van der Vyver - 2011-03-01


Kompetisie: Minotaur II
Esther van der Vyver - 2011-03-01


Why you should never love a poet is because
Richard Higgs - 2011-01-26
Why you should never love a poet is because Why you should never love a poet is because It all sounds very romantic and mysterious and exciting, but A poet is self-serving, self-obsessed, self-absorbed; A poet is emotionally expedient, dwarfed and illiterate. A poet is a knot of self-loathing, a twisted heap of hate, A wreckage of lost loves; A poet will love you back with love that’s passionate, obsessive, for three hours, three days. Three months at the outside. That’s how Frivolous,...

why i don’t read your writing
Grace Kim - 2010-03-02
so manyof your wordstrail melike a squiggle of ducklingsfollowing the Mother Goose and here they appear, one by one as I replace the book I skimmed with fishnet eyes– hoping to catch some guppies of inspiration before continuing home to the siren white sheet on my desk obedient to the No Animals sign, they’ve queued outside the bookstore in a fowl attempt at an ordered row one, two, three, four one preening its baby feathers another tucking its head into a doze and two bills...

The new book smell of old world stories
Grace Kim - 2010-03-02
there’s a smell of promise that freshly printed books hold, a seduction laced through the pages like perfume hidden in the shadow of a delicate collarbone, promising : no one has loved me yet but you may i crave this wandering through bookstores to find a latest release, or a glamour magazine that crackles with stiffness as it opens, releasing the fragrance of words still untainted by profane fingers (sometimes, i sniff along the spine like a labrador inspecting a not-yet-friend)...

the improbable poem hangs its head in defeat
Karlien van der Schyff - 2010-02-10


translating the untranslatable
Karlien van der Schyff - 2010-02-10


Untitled (a poem by a nine-year-old)
Simon Verster Du Toit-Kombuis - 2009-12-04


When Dionysus Cries
Phemela Mmotlane - 2009-12-03
I am the sight of the god, That no man has heard or seen, But yet sigh to have known and loved When I charm with my affection deep. I am the love of the god that not only lasts for eternity, But makes the moment a beast’s feast! Mother of all holidays! Let those who begin life with misery end it with wingding; For life is not yet a string of hollow days, If that is what men wish it were. Let those who dance my rite Also dance with satyrs and chant with maenads; Let them also soar to...

When they hit 49
Tinus Horn - 2009-12-03


History of Art in 48 seconds
Tinus Horn - 2009-12-03
Michelangelo’s Dave was a murderous knave an adulterous killing machine with a faraway stare an imperial air and a willy the size of a bean. “In with the new and out with the rigid!” shouts a fuck-ugly midget who struts on ridiculous legs there’s Pollock the dripper! (but Warhol was hipper) And Bacon? I’ll have mine with eggs. Someone called the police for Derain and Matisse who smothered their lovers in green as...

Hypertext Poetry Competition: Bloody Brothers
Trohan Bekker - 2009-12-02
ever hungry bloated bellies food, money, not hence needed but narcotic/necessary hollow men and solid tellies and on every corner a sort of shady apothecary selling seedless stimulation; an aristocrat sits still at the bread-filled table master and slave in consummation for the bread’s only through proletariat hands able abundance of one, dearth of other yes two, who only through destruction of our mother seem at all the same – both death’s closest lover who...

Hypertext Poetry Competition: We two boys together clinging
Alfred Kruger - 2009-11-19
“We two boys together clinging”Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900. We two boys together clinging,One the other never leaving,Up and down the roads going – North and South excursions making,Power enjoying – elbows stretching – fingers clutching,Arm’d and fearless – eating, drinking, sleeping, loving, No law less than ourselves owning – sailing, soldiering, thieving, threatening,Misers, menials, priests alarming – air breathing,...

Hypertext Poetry Competition: anthony
Mareli Claassens - 2009-11-12


Hypertext Poetry Competition: i am! wrote this dead hand
Kwikfeeks - 2009-10-27
a pakicetus beached off the gulf of einsteinvomiting the johanson that cried hominid on to dry landthe fourth dog always denies any existence of a bone and for his longed knight in bloody armour opposition to enemies within are but genocides aparto great unseen one deliver us from science- another mental ward within the same institution —for soon sanity will be proclaimed malignantand even sense cannot be ignorant of its imminent endas infospheres supernova and the communiverse dissolves...

Madness unsurpassed
Thandy Nadine Mkhabela - 2009-10-26
Should have known in those cracked floorsCrayons and colors that fixed my beingBut she watched and she sawThat I am one burdened with madness unsurpassedOn that crooked desk I saw clearlyThe wings perched on the tiny beingTo fly beyond and beneath skies of sanityOf madness unsurpassedThere is only one that unleashedAnother followed and unchainedInspirational madness locked in these huts and dry riversFlowing in madness unsurpassedWon't you whisper to me, spirit beautiful The works and joys bestowed...

Affirmative shopper
Kwikfeeks - 2009-09-18


Affirmative shopper
Kwikfeeks - 2009-09-16


The orphan
Abigail George - 2009-09-04
The world does not acknowledge you as a citizen An orphan caught in a terrifying death grip I am sickened by your slender limbs, your face Your belly flapping, your country's suffering; Your hunger is diminished; in your eyes there remains A pool of emptiness, your innocent eyes. The air is crackling with feverish tension Then still and blue; your life has vanished in an instant At last I am compelled to speak for you, to breathe The state of my heart is not unlike yours - a...

Remember
Abigail George - 2009-09-04
I am one of Sylvia Plath’s ghosts – Do you remember them at all? The ghost of all writers and poets Their imprint is burned on my brain A human stain given breeding and recognition Bred amongst familiarity and contempt Not for lack of knowledge, lack of a more Worthwhile and happier existence I have searched my entire life for. I am a miracle – it came from childhood. I lived at high speed lost in you. Brave and suave is the hero in love The heroine marked...

The mirror
Abigail George - 2009-09-04
I am hollow like a husk of yellow wheat Unlike the sun I am not golden – I do not glow I do not vanish with a flair and vain retreat I am unaccustomed to having my features Appraised in this way. You think I am worthy – you delighted in my company At first and became sickened at my desire to be Deemed lovely and perfect in all extremes I shadowed you, foolishly you allowed me to. I am not in love with you. This figure cast in glittering ice and stone, This figure that...

The missionary
Abigail George - 2009-09-04
I have always been scared of you Until the day I began to talk like you, Think like you, walking like you do The folds are like itchy silk at first The embrace unbearable, uncomfortable, rare Then smooth, a slippery, mossy and gentle Second skin that I awaken and bring to life Like the husky tones of an African tongue When it is not your first language The folds are dense and stirring within me Enough to distraction to make my path straight. Until you become self-conscious of...

The funny man at social services
Abigail George - 2009-09-04
I do not know his name, his rank, or his serial number, The man stood at the door, waving his arms like a traffic cop To ask me whether or not he should escort me Softly smiling at his childish delight, my horror turned Inwardly to shame for him, on him, this bully, this tyrant, Authority figure, this funny, short, feebleminded man At social services, no doubt he finished school, perhaps his life Was missing haunting dreams, goals, the memory of all that I laughed inwardly, my hand...

Swift
Esther van der Vyver - 2009-08-24


Beauty
Esther van der Vyver - 2009-08-24


August
Lucas Ledwaba - 2009-07-29
It's August yet again The mysterious winds of the gods Will sweep through the land and Like an upturned waterfall in the sacred gorges of Limpopo So will the dust swirl through the dry air It's August again Is this not the same month that man and beast alike marvelled at the sweet innocence of your birth cry in the land of Ga-Mapangula those many moons past? August, windy August when wind, tree and grass join forces in harmonious orchestra to celebrate life when thunder...

Himeville Museum
Mandy Mitchells - 2009-07-29
I politely ignore the curator, His resonating words a foreign language. I want to feel this timeless place; let it inch over my skin. Shadows (without definition) on the walls; Soft, like the souls that once inhabited them. The passage-dressed military style; in old jackets With blazing medallions; kudu horns stand guard. I wander from room to room, to touch the curves of iron; The lace that strokes aged windowsills. And in the outside rooms, the long verandah places, Stand bone...

Moment of Love
Hanni van den Heever - 2009-07-15


Ritual
Werner Botes - 2009-07-15
Feel it: the succinct sounds of the murmur: the earth opening her mouth to swallow a daughter. She is hungry for the bones the blood crying from the ground (He hears it loud and clear.) The mighty procession moving down the mountain: the plumage blinding in the winter sun. We are standing on Pride Rock in awe of death’s victory. The king of beasts said: “Hear ye, Hear ye Pompadour – that trumpet will land you in trouble: ...

I woke up tired
2009-06-26
I woke upToo tired to break up the windowpaneToo tired to look behind thingsToo tired to shout or to callToo tired to be ambitious Too tired to meditate and to think about my historyToo tired to masturbate Too tired to vomit Too tired to eat from dustbinsToo tired to talk about somebody's mother's whore-like lifestyleToo tired to tell the world about my conditionsToo tired to go to the archivesTo delve through piles of documents seeking for some other people's historyI woke up too tired...

Unless you know me
2009-06-26


Like a girl
Zolani Kupe - 2009-06-26
Like a girl whose feet are bleeding and swollen From walking a long, Long distance to school Like a girl who pants in pangs and pains Because she works tirelessly Doing this and that You know these domestic chores. Like a girl whose clitoris is protruding Not because she is longing for the stick But because someone has forced himself into her Like a girl whose genitalia leak blood Not because she is in "time" But because she has been raped Like a girl who sings alone...

Hintsa
Zolani Kupe - 2009-06-26
Hintsa the great ruler once danced in this land He once told the settlers to fuck offHe once wagged his finger at the whitesYou have come to steal my land bastards he told themHe once called his subjects and sat them around the hearth And said to them: You must never trust those bastards He once rode his horse and went to townAnd told the magistrate: White colonisers are thievesThey steal my land; they steal my flock of sheepThey steal my herd of cattleAnd they will steal my people And it is when...

in loving memory
Gerald Erasmus - 2009-06-24


I lie here in front of the fire
Esther van der Vyver - 2009-06-09
I lie here in front of the fire although I don’t want to I know I will get up and tidy the kitchen the flour and the plates the mess all I want to do is lie here the wood singing its green song oh my god I forgot to do homework the stew smells as if it’s done I am too tired to get up I am too heavy, too heavy to get up I think the girls are asleep swinging into their dreams like monkeys and I remember bits of philosophy random quotes that illuminate...

Blame Shifter
Werner Botes - 2009-06-09


Interest
Werner Botes - 2009-06-09



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