BLOUKRANS HERBESOEK

 Daddy...can you hear me...

don't you hear me...?

I think I'm trapped 

in the riddles of a dream

for mum and you I see

alone in a chapel

without me

and I call out your name

but you don't hear me

although you told me

"if ever you need me

just call out my name"

I did it over and over

when the dark knight 

entered the room

with a sharp sword

and I screamed your name, Daddy

and the dark knight panicked

because he knew 

you would be there

and in his panic 

his sharp sword

nicked me

but I heard the sinews, 

flesh and veins tear

and the cool sword

scratch against my ribs...

I started blowing bubbles 

red, red like wine

which the dark knight

pricked and pricked

over and over

and when they burst 

I heard your name

but you never came

(Hiermee 'n bietjie konteks:Ag, jy weet mos maar hoe dit gaan - die afgryslike moorde op die drie dogtertjies in Southport en die daaropvolgende oproer het my gedagtes nog gekwel toe die muse my besoek met die saadjie "in the unlikely event that we ever meet again in eternity's aeons of time, I want to ask you daddy, what did you do...?", maar dit het toe uitgekom soos op Mierleeu.

'n Pa of gemeenskap wat onder sulke omstandighede nie gewelddadig in opstand kom nie, verdien dit om van die aangesig van die planeet te verdwyn.

As mense nie bereid is om vir hulle kinders en kleinkinders te VEG nie, is hulle nie werd om 'n nageslag te hê nie.

Dit gee nie voor om enige meriete te hê nie en is 'n momentopname van my emosies op daardie tydstip - heftige gemoedsbeweging in snelskrif geskryf. Ek dink Chris s'n is soortgelyk, maar nie daarom waardeloos nie.)