tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50206502420477077952024-03-05T10:20:46.873+02:00 Lara Kirsten Pianist & Performance Poetlara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.comBlogger921125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-31503471821462699192024-02-16T21:16:00.007+02:002024-02-16T21:16:48.057+02:00stukkies<span style="font-family: inherit;">wanneer ek jou sien<br />blom my oë artisjokke</span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div>ek skree onder die water</div><div>die name van</div><div>my ongebore gedigte</div><div><br /></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div>drome bloei </div><div>soos shweshwe mandalas </div><div>uit haar tempels</div><div><br /></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div>die bome skud </div><div>hulle koppe vir die wind</div><div><br /></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div>die gedig karteer haarself </div><div>oor die lengtegraad </div><div>van die ritme</div><div>en die breedtegraad </div><div>van die rym</div><div><br /></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div>die tande byt die naels </div><div>die lyf soek alewig vasbytplek</div><div>in hierdie wankelrige bestaan</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-89560789747955843382024-02-14T21:17:00.007+02:002024-02-16T21:23:12.520+02:00streel en dekodeerstreel die papier<div>tot in die hart van die hoendervleis</div><div>al is dit al wat my potlood vanaand doen</div><div><br /></div><div>*</div><div><br /></div><div>watter elegante aksie is skryf</div><div>fyn aanmekaarwewing van woorde</div><div>om die draadwerk van die hart</div><div>te dekodeer</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-8529373509918939482024-01-31T09:24:00.000+02:002024-01-31T09:24:00.602+02:00talisman poetry won't make things better<div>but it makes things feel better</div><div>even if only in this moment</div><div><br /></div><div>poetry doesn't take away the moods</div><div>it definitely doesn't unsay the said things</div><div>or unsees the hard looks</div><div>it is a bit of a panacea</div><div>a lovely soft ball of cotton wool</div><div>easing the wound and sheltering it from sight</div><div>i do not write this poem to undo anything</div><div>maybe to unknot something</div><div> - a tightness</div><div> - a forgetfulness</div><div> - a mindless habit</div><div><br /></div><div>maybe my poem is simply a talisman</div><div>to tie around my wrist</div><div>to sing into my veins</div><div>to call the rhythm and beauty</div><div>back after the fall</div><div><br /></div><div>for now lie a little bit</div><div>gently stroke the wounds</div><div>whisper that i forgive myself</div><div>patterns go deep</div><div>it is okay to fall into</div><div>the same trap many twices thrices over</div><div>and over and over</div><div><br /></div><div>nature is instinct</div><div>and habit-forming</div><div>but come here to this poem</div><div>forget about the habits</div><div> - good or bad - </div><div>writing is a wave that shapes over time</div><div>it can not become pernicious</div><div>or malicious</div><div>there are much too many</div><div>pauses and daydreaming </div><div>and blinking and erasing </div><div>and rephrasing in writing for it </div><div>to become an ill intention</div><div>a spiteful business</div><div>or</div><div>a bad habit</div><div><br /></div><div>write for goodness' sake!</div><div>it is one way</div><div>to keep myself from falling</div><div>if it is not myself i shall keep upright</div><div>then let it be my pencil!</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-80657355725109724332024-01-27T17:28:00.000+02:002024-01-27T17:28:26.066+02:00ek kies ek opt nie vir laptop- of foonskerm vanaand<div>ek kies die reghoekige oppervlak van my skryfboek</div><div>geen glurende lig wat my psige en aandag in </div><div>duisend stukke opkerf nie</div><div>geen kranksinnige duim</div><div>wat breindood tot in die doldrums van bestaan</div><div>a</div><div>f</div><div>s</div><div>c</div><div>r</div><div>o</div><div>l</div><div>l</div><div>nie</div><div>geen stwe voorkopfrons </div><div>wat vol inspanning probeer kophou</div><div>met al die senutergende stimuli en</div><div> uitspattighede </div><div> en klaekouse </div><div> en afshowers</div><div><br /></div><div>dit is net ek en my potlood</div><div>en my 192 bladsy A5 skryfboek</div><div>waar dagdroom, planne-beraam,</div><div>verbeelding, dankbaarheid,</div><div>openhartigheid</div><div>en</div><div>saligheid uitkrul</div><div><br /></div><div>nuwe gewoonte vir 2024:</div><div>gryp nie die skerm - </div><div>gryp die magtige </div><div>POTLOOD!</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-68469903942544641202024-01-25T19:45:00.002+02:002024-01-25T19:45:57.741+02:00stunt-double longeek probeer om te skryf terwyl <div>ek deur die slym moet asemhaal<div>dit voel asof al die digkuns</div><div>wat dalk kon asemhaal</div><div>verpletter word deur</div><div>hierdie onfatsoenlike gehoesery</div><div><br /></div><div>ek voel soos 'n sub-mens</div><div>ek haal nie deur longe asem</div><div>ek haal asem deur 'n roggelende ondergrond</div><div>van swerende slymtonnels</div><div>ek loop so verstar en verskrik</div><div>in hierdie w<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">ê</span>reld</div><div>my nek-, rib- en laerugspiere</div><div>word so gelouter</div><div>hulle het geen benul wat </div><div>pynloosheid en ontspanning beteken nie</div><div><br /></div><div>ek ploeg deur hierdie donker mensgrond</div><div>my gemoed verstar in </div><div>hierdie me<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">e</span></span>do<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14.6667px;">ë</span>nlose aftakeling</div><div><br /></div><div>die roggelende slym-slierte </div><div>is soos tralies waaragter</div><div>haar lewe gesluit is</div><div>sy het gehoop dat haar beste geweer teen verweer</div><div>haar asem sal wees</div><div>maar meer en meer</div><div>is haar longe oortrek met</div><div>kraak-roggel-verstikkende slym</div><div>hoe leef 'n mens wanneer</div><div>jou asem gyselaar gehou word?</div><div><br /></div><div>hierdie skryfboekie sal moet instaan vir my longe</div><div>my nuwe lewenslyn waardeur</div><div>ek my verlangende digtersasem sal blaas</div><div>- my stunt-double longe</div><div><br /></div><div>kom my digkuns, wees my asem!</div><div><br /></div></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-38031300690027051852023-12-06T07:00:00.001+02:002023-12-06T07:00:00.142+02:00 straalwees elegant in my rouheid<br />wees opreg in my wildheid<br />wees tevrede met my talent<br />en staan nooit terug vir die moontlikhede wat<br />uit my porieë kan straal<div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-72347744040856490492023-12-05T21:01:00.003+02:002023-12-05T21:01:40.205+02:00 laat ons onthouons het geen verskoning<br />die nuwe kleur van elke dag<br />borduur haarself in die vlae van ons lewens<br />laat ons onthou om te juig met<br />ons wapperende kleure wat<br />tuimel<br />uit<br />ons monde<br />en arms<div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-52836008451508095002023-12-04T07:00:00.001+02:002023-12-04T07:00:00.141+02:00 klein en grootmy kleinlywige bestaan op <br />hierdie groot aarde! <br /><br />my groothartige gemoed in<br />hierdie kleinlywige lewe!<div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-62506879150327701482023-12-03T00:56:00.001+02:002023-12-03T00:56:19.013+02:00soos ‘n nartjieek wil 'n gedig skryf<br />wat so maklik skil soos 'n nartjie<br />'n rympie wat gemaklik en tuis<br />in die mond lê soos die glimlaggende lyfie<br />van 'n nartjieskyfie<br />'n vers wat glimmer soos die sitrus-barnsteen<br />in die son van jou oë <br /><br /> lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-50136065524411565982023-12-02T06:30:00.001+02:002023-12-03T00:54:42.333+02:00sonleser en blare-digterdie son van jou oë<br />straal deur my gedig<br />die verse fotosinteer en golf<br />suurstof na jou longe<br /><br />die gawe is wedersyds:<br />sonleser<br />en<br />blare-digter<br /><br />dit is al wat ons vandag benodig:<br />son en gedigte<div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-72072210803542974202023-09-23T19:31:00.002+02:002023-09-24T17:22:34.022+02:00nou ja<div><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you were to collect the DNA contained in a single cell and stretch it out, it would be over 2 metres.</span></i></div><div><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you put the DNA molecules in your body end to end, the DNA would reach from the earth to the Sun and back over 600 times</span></i></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">- Snippet of information seen at the Hermanus Botanical Society's Fynbos Festival (this year's theme: Patterns in Nature)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">nou ja, as dit die feite is</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">moenie </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ooit </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">vir my s<span style="font-size: 11pt;">ê</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">dat ek nie </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">die sterre kan bereik nie!</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></span></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-22355223891781904942023-09-23T18:41:00.003+02:002023-09-23T18:41:45.103+02:00kom binne Digtersgeen ander gedig as hierdie<br />kan geskryf word<br />deur my<br />op 23 september: <br /><br />hierdie windgevoel<br />sal homself vaagweg herhaal<br />iewers in<br />die toekoms <br /><br />geen vat aan ons emosies<br />kry ons werklik nie –<br />swiep soos spreeus teen<br />die lig van ons droom-oog-staar <br /><br />ons maak te veel sin –<br />dialoog, besigheid, klasgee<br />advertensies, storie-en-grappie-vertel<br />vereis begrip en samehang<br /><br />maar kom binne Digters – <br /><br />ons het nodig dat die kontrapuntale inkantasies van<br />julle weldeurdagte,<br />fyngeweefde en sekuur-geweegde on-sin<br />ons sinne omverwerp<div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-76819788199285699592023-09-21T20:47:00.002+02:002023-09-23T18:52:51.303+02:00koggelmander soek homself in die ball basket magistraat! roep ek uit toe <div>ek die engelse vertaling vir koggelmander</div><div>op google soek</div><div><br /><div>nee, nee, NEEEEEE!</div><div>hoe kan dit 'n ball basket wees?</div><div><br /></div><div>ja, ja, JAAAA! </div><div>blikbrein kan nie dit altyd regkry!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AetTUK-2bX8PoaJ6FFs3cKgnCOYyV2Tx7wJovJ7A5u40kJWBdtwHxyiv3qBV9eFcB-NFER1L96WTsXY8pWIHZEtux_IAFEqXnqasKjfi_f3Q46SNlU_3YEuRLrzVcuJ6xi8eKq_TcNC06ilU85sKreBWZ0uW4HvxjH8VyRzuvhmA_GSGiBSj0q-AFEo/s682/Screenshot%20(214).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="682" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AetTUK-2bX8PoaJ6FFs3cKgnCOYyV2Tx7wJovJ7A5u40kJWBdtwHxyiv3qBV9eFcB-NFER1L96WTsXY8pWIHZEtux_IAFEqXnqasKjfi_f3Q46SNlU_3YEuRLrzVcuJ6xi8eKq_TcNC06ilU85sKreBWZ0uW4HvxjH8VyRzuvhmA_GSGiBSj0q-AFEo/s320/Screenshot%20(214).png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-59225986205129191642023-09-19T17:44:00.003+02:002023-09-21T20:15:42.255+02:00Nyadas diana nyad op 64 vir<br />53 ure lank kon swem oor<div>177 kilometers in <br />die donker en wilde oseaan<br />dan kan ek vir 'n skamele uur lank sit en digkuns skryf<br />deur die waters van my selfvertroue en verbeelding<br />sal ek swem<br /><br />fokkit dink daaraan<br />53 ure<br />nie slaap<br />nie eet<br />net swem<br /><br />tog, dink ek wat Nyad gedoen het</div><div>is baie meer moontlik <br />as sit en skryf vir 53 ure lank<br /><br /></div><div>mens is nader aan vis-wees<br />as aan sit-en-skrywer-wees<br />swem, skop, vorentoe beur is <br />veel meer natuurlik as <br />sit en skryf<br /> - wat 'n krampagtige, verwronge posisie om<br />in te leef en te oorleef!<br /><br /></div><div>swem, lara, swem!</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-82451052180710726142023-09-15T21:43:00.004+02:002023-09-15T21:43:52.946+02:00wie sien die einde van die huil raak?ek onthou helder die oomblik wanneer ek begin huil<div>maar die oomblik wanneer die huil ophou</div><div>merk ek nie eens op nie</div><div><br /></div><div>dis asof die huil met soveel aankondiging arriveer</div><div>en haarself opsweep tot in </div><div>die klimaktika van die weenklaag</div><div><br /></div><div>en dan met soveel geruislose intuimeling in </div><div>die sug en die floute </div><div>net so ongesiens spore maak</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-27022350745193482462023-09-15T12:35:00.004+02:002023-09-15T12:38:47.555+02:00hier sit sy voor my!<span style="font-family: inherit;">ek skink vir my hottjoklit </span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">in twee van my fraaiste porseleinkoppies</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">een vir my en een vir die Groot Gedig</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">sy het besluit om 'n draai te kom gooi</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ek kan dit nie glo - </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">hier sit sy voor my </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">en sluk my soet en warm drankie</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">af met haar mooie keel</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ons gesels so beleefd en </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">gemoedelik met mekaar</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ek knyp myself</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ek hoor haar stem so helder!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">sy komplimenteer die hottjoklit </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ons drink op mekaar </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">l'chaim!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">en toe spring sy op - </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">ek kon haar nie neerpen nie</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">haar vlugtige vlerke swiep haar weg</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">al wat van haar oorbly </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">is haar stem wat in my ore eggo </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">my glimlag glimmer oor die le<span style="font-size: 11pt;">ë</span> koppies</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">iets blink vang my oog - </span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">'n klein repie goue stof </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">klou aan die rand van haar koppie </span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpqax1TvJYWHi5z1Hn-x10mvwNLpyjV67bBVfsjYMSzte3RRQZYI8YR3zDZbQj0POyyKgJP-ty_jREqhexhiMtTt24D0fLPvZ3RKHPQKnHLhJZk5iBo_xnJRTTz20aJnMXU4akV_Fmlt6MgJnRsp_NaWWPAmrtlysxB8CeD31lfXtt_WuoPV6FQIJyPA/s1638/20230915_122904%201.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="1638" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpqax1TvJYWHi5z1Hn-x10mvwNLpyjV67bBVfsjYMSzte3RRQZYI8YR3zDZbQj0POyyKgJP-ty_jREqhexhiMtTt24D0fLPvZ3RKHPQKnHLhJZk5iBo_xnJRTTz20aJnMXU4akV_Fmlt6MgJnRsp_NaWWPAmrtlysxB8CeD31lfXtt_WuoPV6FQIJyPA/s320/20230915_122904%201.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-46370890219698602922023-09-14T19:49:00.002+02:002023-09-24T17:22:41.554+02:00net sagdis ovulasie-tyd<div>en my buie is oor die hele plek</div><div>die winde steek woeste stoei-gevegte oor </div><div>die see en berge</div><div>ek is twee slapies weg van my belangrike vertoning by</div><div>die Tuin van Digters</div><div>laaste ruk handhaaf ek 'n goeie lus en energie </div><div>maar vandag wil ek net in mekaar vou</div><div>so simpel sawwerige sensasie in die lyf</div><div>ek het nie sprankel nie</div><div>ek het funksionele energie</div><div>maar nie veel energie om aan my verskyning in Wellington te dink nie</div><div>noem dit maar-self-preservation</div><div>before the big high comes a big low</div><div>ek ken die ding al</div><div>bly net sag asem</div><div>sag dink</div><div>sag smile</div><div>wees sag sag</div><div>sag tot </div><div>in my murg</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-33936413403258636162023-09-13T19:54:00.003+02:002023-09-13T19:54:54.537+02:00demomentisethe buddhists teach us a valuable lesson<br />about living in the moment<div><br />but sometimes it is good not to be living so in the moment<br />it is also quite fine to step outside of the moment<br />get distance<br />get perspective<br />it is not even necessary to make a moment of every moment<br />continuously right there in the heart of the moment<br />can make one volatile manic reactive<div><br />yes, it is oraait to step outside of the moment<br />it is even better to dissolve the moment</div><div><br />uhm, can one sit and write a poem in a non-moment?<br />yes, sure<br />begin by </div><div>demomentising </div><div>this moment</div><div><br /></div><div> ah, the relief</div><div> to live in the unmoment!<br /><br /></div></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-26587359926153717282023-09-12T21:03:00.001+02:002023-09-12T21:03:25.962+02:00in die maag van jou ongemakvir diegene wie 'n meerderwaardigheidskompleks het<br />as dit kom by die skryf van die digkuns:<div>wanneer jy een of meer van my gedigte ooit raakloop</div><div>mag ek in daai oomblik in </div><div>die maag van jou ongemak kom nes maak</div><div><div><br /></div></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-62901001502985294542023-09-11T13:59:00.001+02:002023-09-11T13:59:16.597+02:00sometimes sometimes reading poetry<div>is like unexpectedly seeing the</div><div>graceless cracks on someone's heels</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-62733915476939271862023-09-11T13:52:00.004+02:002023-09-14T19:53:57.451+02:00why write poetry?to write poetry is a way<div>to gauge</div><div>to remember</div><div>to express</div><div>to observe</div><div>to breathe</div><div>to describe</div><div>to elaborate</div><div>to imaginate</div><div>to keep in and out of mischief</div><div>to be present in oneself</div><div>to be present in ones environment</div><div>to be open and receptive</div><div>to be creative</div><div>to be still whilst making unheard inner noises haha!</div><div>to laugh at oneself</div><div>to play with words</div><div>to bend ones brain</div><div>to use time</div><div>to practice and enhance language</div><div>to make holding a pen enticing</div><div>to expand eccentrically</div><div>to create new colours</div><div>to wonder and be curious</div><div>to keep learning</div><div>to make opposites rhyme</div><div>to strengthen one's whimsical muscle</div><div>to gift someone</div><div>to shape ones voice</div><div>to traverse across the empty space</div><div>to feel gratitude</div><div>to remember</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-13245899861557506882023-09-10T20:58:00.001+02:002023-09-10T20:58:42.093+02:00the life rafts are always readyit is the good intention of<div>the linguistic gods</div><div>that the rafts have thrown</div><div>anchor in</div><div>my drafts -</div><div><br /></div><div>drafts waiting completion</div><div>but still hanging</div><div>- eagerly and patiently -</div><div>as life rafts</div><div>in my blog post files</div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-86906428476954793572023-09-10T20:49:00.002+02:002023-09-10T21:08:57.051+02:00só 'n loos wil ek wees<span style="font-family: inherit;">skaamteloos</span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> vreesloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> perkeloos </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> huiwerloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> onkreatiefloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> kommerloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> blas<span style="font-size: 11pt;">éloos</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> flouloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> onrusteloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> maskerloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> stresloos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">gaan lees my ander "loos" gedig van 2020 < <a href="https://laraafrika.blogspot.com/2020/11/een-groot-loos-is-ek.html" target="_blank">een groot loos is ek</a></span></div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-77023574685239222002023-09-09T18:19:00.000+02:002023-09-09T18:19:18.180+02:00gaan klim in die seeshit, ons stoot onsself so onsimpatiek<br />en onheilig deur die dae<div><br /><div>genade is al wat ons sal red</div><div><br /></div><div>gaan klim in die see Lara</div><div>gee die stoot oor aan die oseaan </div><div>laat hy my op sy polsende skouers dra</div><div>laat hy my verlig van my aanhoudende voortbeur</div><div><br /></div><div>al is my lyf lig, voel sy te swaar om te dra deur die dag</div><div>die groot lyf van die see is sterk genoeg</div><div>ek sal myself oorgee aan hom</div><div>sonder huiwer of vra sal hy </div><div>my swaarmoedigheid dra en lig</div></div><div><br /></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020650242047707795.post-19823117151233891152023-09-08T21:52:00.000+02:002023-09-08T21:52:02.138+02:00wat help woordewat help woorde -<br />
wou<br />
sou<br />
moes<br />
wat as<br />
liewers<br />
in plaas van<br />
maar<br />
eerder<br />
moenie<br />
kan nie<br />
mag nie<div><br /></div><div>nee man!<br /><div>bly eerder stil</div><div><br /></div><div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 241017</span><br /></div></div>lara kirstenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14972067646459821680noreply@blogger.com0