Marie Antoinette

Sý wat net nog wou hê

al het sy in damme van oorvloed gelê.

Sý wat net aanhou vra 

en gerieflik vergeet van die stukkendes langs haar,

maar

dalk was sy ook net opsoek na geluk,

nes die mense wat voor haar moes buk.

 

Sy wat net vreugde wou vind,

al het sy in riviere van oorvloed verdrink.

Een-minuut-liefling

Dit was ‘n maandagaand, maar wat maak dit saak. Dit het gebeur en dis dit wat tel.

Min wetend het ek jou roep gehoor en voor ek my kon kry sê jy kry my hier voor. Jy het gestaan op die rand van die jakarandablomme en ek het geweet as ek na jou toe gaan is dit die einde en toe sonder om te dink, loop ek sommer. Miskien was dit jou oë wat gepraat het, of miskien was ek net jonk en buite myself, maar wat maak dit saak. Dit het gebeur en dis wat tel.

My stem het amper meer as my hande gebewe, maar jy het aan my elke woord gehang. Ek weet ek het al die verkeerde goed gesê en ek wens jy kon weet ek was bang, maar wat maak dit saak? Dit het gebeur en dis dit wat tel.

Jy kom tot die punt en jy spring dadelik in, jou kop is skaars bo water voor jy vra oor die ring. Volgens jou was jy sprakeloos al het jy aanhoudend gepraat, jy het my bloedrooi laat bloos onder die lig van die straat en ek het geklim tot buite my vel, maar wat maak dit saak? Dit het gebeur en dis dit wat tel.

Nou wandel ek rond, opsoek na jou siel, want almal waarmee ek al te doen gehad het was so verniel. Was joune net goed beskerm en versteek, want ek weier om te glo jy is net nog ‘n leek. Jou elke gebaar kom vanaf ‘n onbekende plek, jy is anders.

Jy is weg.

To my Parents

Perhaps it is roughly
Saying what God alone could perfectly show –
How selfhood begins with a walking away,
And love is proved in the letting go.

– C Day Lewis

I am sorry that I’m not what you want me to be.

I am sorry that I will never try,

because, you see,

to start with, I don’t have the energy.

 

When I think about trying to,

my body crumbles,

my mind tumbles

and my mouth mumbles:

“No.”

 

I am sorry that I am never around

and that when you need me, I make no sound.

I am sorry that I want to get away

and I promise that it’s not as easy as I portray.

 

Last but not least,

I am sorry that I am not sorry,

because you have to set me free.

I am not some long lost version of yourself.

I have my own hands, feet and mouth.

 

Please try and accept that I am me.

Passion

Someone recently told me that it is necessary to have a passion in life. This got me thinking long and hard about what my passion might be.

Saying that the fact that I couldn’t pinpoint an exact thing did not make me stress, is a lie. Am I really living if I don’t have a passion, or am I just trying to survive? Questions like these started flooding my brain.

The more I thought about it, the more a certain cliché started taking over my thoughts. The thing about clichés is that they are clichés for a reason, and I think Khaled Hosseini explained clichés in his novel, The Kite Runner, perfectly.

“A creative writing teacher at San Jose State used to say about clichés: ‘Avoid them like the plague.’ Then he’d laugh at his own joke. The class laughed along with him, but I always thought clichés got a bum rap. Because, often, they’re dead-on. But the aptness of the clichéd saying is overshadowed by the nature of the saying as a cliché.”

Now that I have justified my use of a cliché, I can get to the point. I think my passion in life is not necessarily one thing, but a million little things. Here it comes, brace yourselves: In the end, it’s the little things that matter most.

The smell of coffee coming from a cafe that makes you stop in your tracks, the clouds that move so constantly as if they are infinitely trying to form a picture that might just catch someone’s attention, the light that penetrates the tree’s branches and makes a playful scene on the ground, the random a-bit-too-big-for-a-stranger smile you get from a passer-by, the way someone gets excited when they hear their favourite song, the laughter that makes you gasp for breath, an elderly couple holding hands, dancing in the rain. These things are what I live for. These things are my passion.