what is... this thing called love

what is love
if you are not the axis
upon which my world rotates
what is love
if you are not the sun
from which my world draws
light and strength
what is love
when we are content
to live an ocean apart
what is love
if i am not your centre
nor you mine
why then ...
love is friendship
my anam cara


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

one pixel at a time

the grey is a sneaky bastard
creeping up on you
slithering, silently into your life
settling in, not noticed
tapping into your joy
like a hungry leech
draining the colour from your world
one pixel at a time

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

east bathhouse

the ocean breeze

caressed my skin

the warmth of sun fell lovingly across my back

the song of sea sounds

pierced with sea birds crying

the gentle swinging creak

of the sign which read

East Bathhouse

the white warmth of the sand

as fine as powder

found beneath bare feet

time stood still

and i sojourned in nowhere land

my love and i in strange new separation

a distance now, an unbridgeable space

our minds in timeless chaos searched

for answers more appealing




Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the gift

the gift of love is our ultimate freedom

a gift only ours for the giving

we may not buy love or sell it

we may not demand or steal it from another

love is priceless and beyond theft

love arrives unannounced

sometimes taking us completely by surprise

a joyous gift from the universe

a deep well, a bubbling spring

the wild white waters of untamed emotion

to share this bounty with the beloved

becomes our greatest desire

how fortunate are they who love

where they are loved in return

we gaze, we sigh, we admire

our love can do no wrong

this then is the first stage of love


at first love is mostly selfish

this person makes us happy

we feel warm and contented

their company pleases and amuses us

time passes and if we are careful

gentle and cherishing

our love will continue to grow

sending roots downwards, outwards

gaining encouragement

from the nourishment of fidelity

our love deepens, our vision widens

our desires are less for our needs

we wish for more for our beloved

for their happiness, their satisfaction

we long to protect them from harm

to supply their every need

to offer them joy in every day life

peace grows in our heart

we begin to imagine a future

a sharing, a togetherness

an always and forever

this then is the second stage of love


we are ready to offer the loved one

commitment

we desire to proclaim our loving partnership

before our family and friends

to share the inevitability of our love

with a world less interested

commitment requires long term, logical thought

in a way, the very antithesis of love

we must look deep into our heart

and apply the gift of our mind

to the future of our relationship

we must know, we must decide

this is the one, my love mate

the companion of my days

the lover of my nights

the one with whom i would forever share

the triumphs and tribulations of life's road

the one whose tears will mingle with mine

in sadness

whose laughter will peal out with mine

in joy

i accept this person as my future

and their future as my own

i will care for those they love

i will be there for them in the dark hours

i will set aside the instability of my emotions

embracing this one person

promising my forever

this then is the third stage of love


and so we promise, we commit

the wonderful and rewarding journey begins

for the offering of true love

of faithful heart, physical fidelity

unending intellectual devotion

is a commitment to our beloved

and a gift of wonder to ourselves

day by day we learn to share

to feel irritation and accept

to feel anger and put it aside

to feel hurt and not require revenge

to march through the bad times

head down, one foot in front of the other

pausing only to extend our hand

to offer encouragement to our beloved

to dance through the good times

hand in hand, grateful for the togetherness

of love

we will need to learn new lessons

discovering that forgiving is easy

whilst forgetting is not

understanding that there will be times

of distance, of doubt, segments of time

in which we might forget our love

our passion, our undying devotion

we might forget many things

but never, our commitment

our decision to join our lives together

to share all that life might throw at us

the commitment of our heart, our body, our mind

supplies the foundation for eternal love

love which will continue to grow

to deepen, to blossom

becoming so beautiful, so strong, so real

our understanding will expand

our selfishness lessen

we will learn the love of forever

for today and for tomorrow

unquestioned, inviolate

this then is the truth of love

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the link

pause and think
regard the link
review the past
gone so fast
live in the now
do you know how
the future waits
owned by the fates
chaos rules
and we are fools

yesterday today tomorrow
time the one thing we can't borrow

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the night

the night is long
when you sleep alone
the silence rings
in ears which long for
breath
the darkness
haunts with the lack
of energies entwined
in vain the senses search
for body scent
as yet unknown
realized only by the absence

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the power

i have the power
to see the light
to watch a bird
engaged in flight
i have the power
to feel the sun
and contemplate
it's power of one
i have the power
to smell fresh bread
and follow my thoughts
through memories thread
i have the power
to hear the sound
of children playing
all around
i have the power
to taste with gladness
from life's great bowl
of joy and sadness

i have the power
to taste the sea
to hear her power
as she calls to me
i have the power
to feel her spray
caress my skin
on a summer's day
i have the power
to breathe her deep
the scent of her
in my heart to keep
i have the power
to see the place
where sea and sky
are joined in grace
i have the power
to witness gold
as the rising sun's
first rays enfold


i have the power
to love the night
engulfed in darkness
stars shine bright
i have the power
to hear the noise
of a near cicada
giving voice
i have the power
to feel the heat
die from a day
in the dark replete
i have the power
to love from my soul
to care and cherish
to gift my whole
i have the power
to close my eyes
and create the world
i fantasize


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

latter day epiphany

what is time
but a question
of knowing, or not
what happens tomorrow
and the past
you forgot
no power to haunt
and draw new blood

to ever exist
in this moment
the future unblemished
by imagined fear
we live in the now
unchained and free
moments of guilt and shame
left behind with yesterday

does the river ask
when will i arrive
in time to spill
into the sea of salt
what of yesterday
and banks burst
with raging, rising
must i regret and repent

does the seed question
unravelling stem, wriggling root
as to the hour
the arrival of saplinghood
we call the time
by a rising, sinking sun
a star which burns regardless
less mindful than we

what is time
but an aberration
useful for timetables
a rueful latter day epiphany

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

who makes the rules

the sky did not fall
it should have
maybe it still will
not yet though
today is grass green
and sky blue
if i really tried
i might blow that cloud
that big, fluffy white cloud
out of sight
why not just do it
why wait?

for everything a season
who makes the rules
if we stop listening
will the sky fall
probably not
we own our future
we create our mind view
triumph or tragedy
ours is the power
breath deep
and colour your world
sunshine


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

beyond glass barriers

a sound proof glass prison
where i wait
there is life out there
i feel the passing energy
as it touches my glass walls
i am invisible as i watch
the laughter and the living
beyond glass barriers


i so craved the company of love
i tried to be who i am not
a wasteful exercise
for i am many thoughts and ways
all indelibly me
nary a one interchangeable
with another
one day i read words
less than kind
at last, enlightenment
i understood
i am good enough for me
i am calm and comfort
at ease with being
uninspired by worldly ambition
love lives in me
and wraps her arms around me
it is enough
no need to offer myself
as a distraction to the unaware

i built my glass tower
to hold the living world at bay
while i grow strong enough
to know, once more
the heat of undeniable passion
and bask in the streaming sunlight
of an uncomplicated
forever love story

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

heart hunger

what do i do with the hunger
the need to love and be loved
when i fear the consequences
of allowing the love seed to take root
in the fertile garden of my heart
for my mind has learned the dark lesson
i have come to know in truth
that love and adoration
are not always meant to last forever
fear and pride wait patiently
to conquer and destroy

i do not need just another woman
i seek a glimpse of eternity
burning unafraid in her eyes
a woman to brand my heart with her promise
to take my hand and leap fearless
across the river of time and tomorrow
a woman who seeks as i do
the burning, searing passion of destiny
the peace, the surrender of forever
how i long to read her words, hear her voice
drown helpless in her gaze and know
you are my forever girl

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the essence

the essence of female attraction
first felt in the long hot summer
your presence an ache of unknown origin
long tanned legs stretched out before you
perfect teeth biting into perfect lips
you concentration total, engrossed in knowledge
sun bleached hair, blonde against beach brown
we would laugh and giggle
students now reverting to adolescence
you would lean in close
touching, flirting without knowing
friends experiencing enjoying
tempting
the essence of female attraction

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

rattle the cage

rattle the cage and what do we find
we all have a demon who lives in our mind
he waits every day through our sweetness and light
for just the right moment to provoke us to fight
he knows us too well and he is well aware
that given a prod we will seldom fight fair
we return to our basics our first reptile brain
fight or flight instinct, our answer to pain
snapping and snarling, our anger ablaze
we rise to our full height, disdain in our gaze
with him in the saddle we are out of control
we ride our emotions, forgetting our soul

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

intangible

words of woman
honey laced with arsenic
rolling tasty
sweet against the tongue
waiting for the bitter
killing bite

in the dark hours
plotting vengeance
of ten thousand morrows
cruelty waiting
for the shifting sands
of power

time pauses, shattered
whilst the i
who is not me rises
the fury of arrogance
quick beating
at pounding temples

the watcher sighs
my mortal body whispers
remember to breathe
awake we are whole
immersed in the present
intangible, untouchable

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

blowing smoke

i would have to rate you
right up there with fresh baked bread
and english cherries ripe and red
i have forgotten, almost
the feel of my young
lying sleepy, sated, in my arms
but i still remember past time
through the faint blue tinted clouds
of your addictive hazy company
memory wanes with ticking clocks
yet few remain as clear and sharp
as my first time with you
nine i was, the very first
the old farm house, cut into the hill
the garden terraced above, terraced below
me and joe hidden in the long grass
of the top terrace, smoking
keeping a watchful eye on the family
as they enjoyed the cool of the day
on the long red polished verandah


my sister, the wild one
or so my young mind imagined
the idol of my childhood
born to be the rock and roll generation
who slept with a framed photo of elvis
tucked beneath her pillow
she worked in the city, wore three quarter jeans
with stripes and laces
her boyfriend rode a motorbike
she rode with him, she smoked
and so i sneaked about
and stole a cigarette from her pack
and dragged poor joe after me
up to the top terrace
where, hidden in the long grass
i smoked you, my first cigarette
of course i shared you with my little brother
the equally guilty do not run
wide eyed and innocent
with tales to mama


did i enjoy my first smoke?
i remember the dizzy head rush
of the first nicotine hit
that year the russians launched sputnik 2
with a dog on board
the dog never made it back to earth
not as a panting, barking, tail wagging
living animal
she died from overheating and panic
what did they expect?
so, laika the russian dog
died in space and i smoked
my very first cigarette
in 1957

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

rain

as the rain falls
does it know
the river beds
it will tumble over
is there an understanding
of a future, seeping,
slow, through
soil and rock bed
does the rain wait
in anticipation
of the gathering
into the salt infused
great waters

and we ...
do we understand
the journey
as we clutch
the guaranteed pure
deep mountain spring
plastic packaged
rain


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

laundry fresh

i stroll the path
which runs beside the sea
the sun reflecting
hot and bright
on my white shirt
laundry fresh
a sweet breeze blowing
from the north
carrying highland tales
warm with the scent
of summer soon
the field is clover green
star studded
buttercups adorn the green
in such perfection
almost painted
while small white daisies
flee like spattered paint
across the canvas
the firth is still
baby waves wriggle shore wards
and sigh, soft and sibilant
emboldened by their goal
sun hot white sand
with open ears
i hear the earth
my eyes soar
with the hook beaked gulls
to dive white flashing
through the water barrier
i feel the truth
i know creation
my soul sings
while i learn to breathe

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the wordspinner

he sat at his desk with his pencil in hand
his mission to write of the sea and the sand
the world and the mountains, the sun and the moon
the legends of arthur, of desert and dune
of castles and pixies and horses that run
of children who cry and girls who have fun
he was a word spinner, his mission in life
to expose with his magic, joy, trouble and strife
each day he sat waiting, for knowledge to rise
allowing expression, the truth and the lies
for no matter what happens a writer must write
for in words are his soul food, they bring him delight
he cared not who read them, nor what they might think
his stories his own, he explored every link
he wrote for his pleasure, because he had need
put pencil to paper, the world would recede
at the end of each day he would lean back and sigh
stretch out his legs and stare at the sky
thank god for the magic of the words in his head
because with no words a word spinner is dead


All materials Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

what is love

what is love but a missing part
a drawn out silence of the heart
the ache inside of absence felt
no brown eyes in which to melt
the long goodbye the missing one
the waiting for the time to come


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

time enough

The sun sinks slowly, allowing nights gathering dusk entry. Autumn nips at summer's fleeing heel and the slow chill recalls winter's dark memory.

The seasons follow us through life as we tread our chosen road. Time is both enemy and friend, the incredible optimism of childhood...endless time at our disposal, every new experience a wonder to be marvelled at.

The arrogance of youth, immortal in our outlook and impatient in our understanding.

The middle years, a time of building and nurturing, the slow acceptance of responsibility. We learn to love and we learn to lose, time teaches us that great joy and

great sorrow walk hand in hand through the seasons.

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, the seasons pass. So now we stand, fully adult and finally free of the responsibilities that time gifts us with.

A magic time, with freedom to chose.

So I stand, for the moment and look back at the past and I am pleased.

For it was not all good and not all bad, neither always difficult nor always easy.

Joy and sadness, laughter and anger, pain and pleasure.

But it was my road and I have walked it, keeping pace with the seasons, sometimes weary with the load and sometimes dancing with the joys my path provided.

And now a new time ahead, new forks in the road, new decisions to make, a new path to follow.

My mind a little wiser, my heart more gentle, my step a little more careful.

What can I wish for on this last part of my journey through life.

The ability to see those who have need of me and the patience to share my time with them.

A heart that learns to love selflessly and a mind that may understand the fears of others.

A body strong enough to carry me with grace and dignity towards my final destination.

A companion, a love, a soul mate, to walk beside me, for we grow weary alone. A friend to share the wonders and marvels of the road, a life partner to bring joy to all the seasons.

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

omega

i will tear the fire from my body
and kneel before the gods of passion
i will beg them to accept my offering
accept my fire and grant me peace

day by painful day i will wait
prostrate before the gods of love
will they in time grow weary of my presence?
and accept the gift of my heart's love

but for the gods of past and future
i have nothing that i wish to lose
i will willing, pay the pain price
for every memory of you

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

a child of creation

i love to wake up in the middle of the night
when the drunks have gone home and turned off the light
the world and it's people are far, far away
not busy and noisy like during the day
there's a chill in the air and a silence around
that during the daytime can never be found
a child of creation, i enjoy being alone
with past and with present and future time zone
i can think of the people who matter to me
of what might still happen and what never be
for we're always creating the world where we live
by the things we imagine and the thoughts that we give



in my mind i can wander where others dare not
indulging my thoughts in a fair camelot
a place of white knights and princes and kings
in search of fair ladies to present with their rings
the rest of the people may live as they please
but past midnight i claim as my time of reprieve
to live as i wish in a world all my own
where magic holds sway and reality's flown
the dreams of my heart form the world where i live
and my lover desires all the love i can give


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

parrot pellets

tomorrow is parrot pellet day
i need to awake at an early hour
parcelforce waits for no man
seven minutes absence in 48 hours
seven minutes and they are come
and gone with unseemly speed
and the small smurf bird
ugly as a small vulture
with unfinished feathers
and raptor eyes needs weaning
fruit and veg and seed
are not enough for thoroughly
domesticated and ultimately
absolute vegetarians
pellets are required
and i must be there to collect
i need to sleep tonight
but the muse is once more
abroad and wily demands
my full and conscious attention
i say the muse because she, my muse
ignores me now in precious ways
were i sheit on her shoe
i would receive more attention
than this poor poet in pain
no matter even in her ignoring
i find my inspiration
for she it was who taught me
tales of my genius with words
she rubbed like warm oil
slick and soft against my skin
until i believed not only in my craft
but in her everlasting love
which i believe in still
i have no god but my belief in us
in our destiny together
but small blue parrots busy weaning
require my presence to collect
parrot pellet parcels
in the morning

All materials Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

saying goodbye

saying goodbye
to people and places
bidding farewell
to beloved faces
love like an anchor
a weight in the chest
a beginning an end
a time which was blessed
the future is waiting
each day a question
of how to survive
without love's obsession
time now a punisher
some day a healer
just play the cards
which are dealt by the dealer
the sweetness of love
the peace of together
life is all chaos
and nothing forever
remember our love
the extent of our caring
the fun and the laughter
the bliss of our sharing

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

insanity

insanity a precocious loop
a swashbuckling mind traveler
favouring only the some
neglecting the others
their minds boot sucking
in the boring morass
of the legally sane
why favour some with the ability
to hear the voice of god
to be with surety
an erstwhile hero
are the mad tormented
sad and lonely souls
existing in their false reality
or is insanity the gift
allowing access to a world
mind designed
a place of resurrection
from the inanity of a world
lost in the imaginings of the normal

All materials Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

impartial observance

impartial observance of every day actions
is rarely achieved, there are constant infractions
we know what we know, we believe what is true
so often another has a whole different view
their truth is not ours, they do not understand
the acceptable future for which we have planned
our truth is their lie, our goodness unseen
they suspect us of plotting, a dark monstrous scheme
so, history sways from the left to the right
a viewpoint induced by the presence of might
who so holds the power is the owner of truth
effecting the press and impacting the youth
prejudice, politics, talk of the day
awash with the truth or the lies of the way
illegal immigrants, marriage for gays
should iraq be invaded, does war deserve praise
depends so entirely on our point of view
some agree, some would challenge, some do not have a clue

All materials Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

forgotten

his grey hair wiry, unbrushed, forgotten
he stood gazing seawards, lost in thought
the high tailed wind,tugging at his shirtsleeves,
defining his spare frame, the wasted muscles
tall he was still, stooped now, with the burden of age
what drew his gaze and engaged his thoughts
the white caps riding the green, grey sea
their coming and going random, at the will of the wind
the small yacht sailing, black sails filled with motion
the sea birds, wrestling with the wind
none of these did he see, the present was absent from him
his mind journeyed in the past, in happier times
his body once more young and strong
his thoughts, ordered and coherent, his memory intact
his beloved wife, vibrant by his side
her smiling face turned towards him
her clear eyes spilling adoration, her enjoyment palpable
how she loved the sea, the sand, the rushing wind
he turned to take her hand, to grasp her to him
he found only the echo of yesterday's memory
the present embraced him with a sad sigh
there was probably somewhere he should be
something he should have done
his mind so clear in past memories
wandered lost in the mists of the present
he found himself alone in a world grown strange
he longed to cry, to howl out his pain
for the loss of his woman, his life mate
she, the familiar, the remembered, now absent
torn from his side by the twin enemies of age and illness
he survived, half of the whole they once were
he wiped the wind tears from his face and turned for home
to the warm emptiness of his present, to his new companion
the television, satellite, one hundred channels
of mind numbing entertainment, absolving him from thought
encouraging him to sleep, to dream of yesterday
as he sat slouched, slack jawed and unconfused

All materials Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the way of words

words are my tools
words are my pleasure
words are for using
enjoying at leisure
words can make mischief
and words can make magic
words describe life and death
cheerful and tragic
words can weave tales
about loving and leaving
explaining emotions of
great joy and grieving
words can be written
or spoken out loud
whispered in love
or roared out in a crowd
words are a way
of exposing my mind
the thoughts that i think
and the questions i find
my days are kept busy
with words in my head
and thoughts so inspired
by the words i have read
i listen to music
hear words in my brain
my words are inspired
by sun and by rain
words cut and they heal
like a good surgeons knife
they offer excitement
and knowledge of life
remember their power
whenever you speak
think of the kindness
or damage you wreak
for words are just words
until they are hurled
with love or with venom
out into the world


Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann

the shell

the surface, the outer shell
extended into the world
in self portrayal
we show that which will please
gain us credit, buy us influence
in a watching, calculating society
we nurture our true being
deep within, safe from the judgment
of the others of our kind
in childhood we soon feel
the slicing whip of humiliation
dispensed by those who gain pleasure
in the torment, the pain of others
the sweet faces of young innocence
hide the cruelties of which
only a child is capable
we ache with the shame, the mortification
soon, we withdraw, a little at a time
learning to hide the truth, building our mask
we absorb the lessons of protection
to weep inside and let the mask smile
when we feel fear, we master the snarl
and the world in ignorance, steps back
we find the strength to laugh
when we would hide in shame
we may hide our truth so well
in time, we might believe the mask is all
the gentleness of our humanity
lost through time
the softness of our hearts
lost forever, an absence not noted

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All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

at fault

molten metal arrows thrown from near
fear and twisted bodies fill the space
where peace should live in the still
now aerial displays of vengeance
kill and subdue in place of talk
no one is right and all are wrong
roll out the tanks filled with death
and other mother’s sons in uniform
strike first, make death your ally
carry high the bodies of the children
burned and broken by the years
of shame and unforgiving
your soul and mine laid bare
before the march of inhumanity

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

cogito, ergo sum

i find i now remember
the word i need to use
no more pregnant pauses
no offering up of clues

no need for you to wonder
what i am trying to say
each sentence is quite clear
in an elementary way


i think, i speak and i explain
i conjugate each clause
the words which once evaded me..
no longer give me pause


i thought it was the passing years
which caused my brain to slow
while actually a chemical (prescribed)
had caused the words to go

i write, i read, i watch the tube
i stay awake all day
"i think, therefore i am" you know
more eryll in some way!




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All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

fake me

turn me fake me
mimic me and make me
i am the clay and you are the potter
i am the pencil and you are the jotter
untwist the wire of past evolution
humanity bleeds through unplanned revolution
the past is encoded, shrouded in mystery
the lies and the truth written down and called history
tomorrow the future untouched for the now
no vision projected protected somehow


so mix me and mold me
a new way enfold me
set up the dominoes give them a tap
let chaos embrace us a flag on the map

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

windstir

close my eyes search my mind
seen as if floating
on great clouds of red dust
they stretch their magnificent muscles
defining movement
great manes flying with their own wind stir
the ground vibrates
with the music of their hooves
the staccato rhythm of the herd
the tall hills applaud their return
the long grasses sway
a dance of joyful celebration
the horse whisperer kneels
in thanks
for to own is to be owned
a whisperer without a herd
ceases to exist

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

the caterpillar

photo by scotproof (flikr)























i watched a caterpillar today

he definitely knew where he was going

perhaps he was a she

do caterpillars even have he's and she's

i will play god and decide, he was a he

he moved with purpose, he had a mission

what brings such focus to the mind of a caterpillar

does a caterpillar even have a mind

or is it merely instinct in action

my caterpillar was black and very hairy

with a bright orange stripe down his back

no hanging back, he had places to be

things to do, what things

he ignored every bit of greenery in his way

a pile of roses, thrown away, faded, dead

my caterpillar did not even deign to pause

a container full of vegetable peelings

ready for the compost heap

slowed him down a little

only because it blocked his chosen path

he made his rapid way along a fence post

lying forgotten on the ground

he reached the end

and launched his caterpillar body into space

only the purchase of his back legs

kept him from falling

his caterpillar head waved up

and down and side to side

seeking ... i wonder what

whatever he was looking for , he found it

with multiple leg movements

he dismounted the fence post

and disappeared, leaving me wondering

i guess the ultimate destination of a caterpillar

is to become a butterfly

a beautiful, fairy winged creature

to float and hover and breed

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

the boys

the boys with voices gently slurred

are out again tonight

they stop and talk by street lamps

moths beckoned by the light


the smoke from cigarettes

curls upward in the light

the air is ice and as they breathe

the cold holds it in sight


tonight their tones are gentle

no louder than a sigh

they wander home in peace this night

with lager's lullaby


this time their minds are smoothly fogged

with alcoholic cheer

the village sleeps in peace tonight

although the boys are near

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

my skin was white

born and bred in Africa
a child who wished no shoes
i grew strong beneath her sun
i slept beneath her moon
i walked her earth
and breathed her air
i knew no other land
and i grew up and tall
and loved my land
and all her people
i was African
my skin was white

i felt the beat of nationhood
i knew the love of country
i carried the white man's burden
the guilt of more in a land of less
the guilt of separation
the division of our nation
the guilt of attitude
the white man's sin of arrogance
towards the others
his brothers in the land
i was African
my skin was white

freedom came
and it was good
no longer need to feel
the white man's burden
the guilt was lifted
from my shoulders
to see the young together
growing, they wish no shoes
they see no colour in your face
they share the land, at last together
i am African
what colour is my skin
All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

let the glory words fall

like a jumble
in my brain
still in joy
and forged in pain

rising now
unending stream
in the light
and in the dream

tight my chest
and i must write
releasing words
into the night

born in hate
rise in sorrow
words to reach
my new tomorrow

to be free
thoughts must flow
in my mind
words must grow

glory words
in tumbling fall
my heart my soul my mind
my all

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

if they could speak

if you could speak if you could choose
to exist a while in sun and rain
be born and drink your mother's milk
to sleep and then awake again

to breathe, to move, to live a life
to walk the green and see the blue
to feel the bite of winter's wind
a life that led to death, would you

choose a birth of purpose
born only to grow and die
cared for by your killer
do you sometimes wonder why

or would you rather be
elsewhere, uncreated, free
never born the world to see
but uneaten, just like me

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

jeans

once upon a time you know
a really long long time ago
when i was young and tall and slim
and quick of mind and strong of limb
i bought a pair of jeans one day
that suited me in every way
in the newness colour bright
and the fit, it was just right
those jeans i bought were just so great
to wear them out i could not wait
i wore them here i wore them there
my jeans and i were quite a pair
my friends would say , girl you look good
in jeans like that i surely should
and so time past
things seldom last
and i grew up my jeans grew older
summer past the weather colder
those jeans whose fit was once so right
were now beginning to feel tight
the colour once so bright and true
now took upon a faded hue
and still i love those jeans of mine
when i wear them i feel fine
i keep them for my days at home
to wear when i am all alone
not so easy to throw out
jeans you were once mad about
All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

the hunt

what calls us to the hunt
the eager baying of the hounds
following their instincts
does it feed our blood lust

the thundering rhythm
of man and horse in motion
ploughing through fields
of future intent
is this the fascination

the thought of the kill
does this inflame our passions
would we leave this place
with blood on our hands

for to hunt on horses
with dogs
is hardly an act of intrepidness
when the prey is
a fox
indeed, a killer in his own right
with a blood lust all his own

clever, wiley and fast
but no ravenous man killer
hardly a worthy opponent
for an educated man

and still we persist
for it is our custom
drawn from our savage history
the last justifiable kill

so play the many against the one
follow the pack until he tires
when the courage of his heart
can no longer deny
the exhaustion of his body
watch him taken, torn and rent
enjoy the kill
wash the blood from your hands

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

soledad

observation, need to share
while you are playing solitaire
what am i supposed to do
sit around and wait for you
while you might fear deep emotion
i am addicted to the potion
i will not hide what i am feeling
perhaps you find this unappealing
step by step is how you live
while if i feel then i must give
i have no choice this is my way
i crave a love who longs to play
without mind contact i am bereft
the child in me has never left
when i need space i look inside
there's room enough in which to hide
in you i sense some slight resistance
a need perhaps to keep your distance
if i withdraw you soon pursue
must i play this game with you
intensity is what you fear
while it is something i hold dear
when you desire to be alone
i feel my heart it turns to stone
i think perhaps you ask a lot
i can not be who i am not
my sins are arrogance and pride
i am like the sea the restless tide
great minds i find them everywhere
a great temptation now to share
my inner thoughts my inner being
with others who desire the seeing

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

i prefer cake

i dislike work

prefer leisure

to eat

brings me pleasure

my mind

is exquisite

i prefer

cake to biscuit

i am addicted

to smoking

i sometimes

wake choking

i visit the doctor

but never the shrink

i crave coke and coffee

and sometimes a drink

i used to like boys

and now i like girls

i love to watch rain

as it comes down in swirls

i love to look up

and i love to look down

i am happy in country

and happy in town

i long to touch others

and pass on the healing

to open my mind

to life's endless revealing

my thoughts are so restless

my mind never still

i am blessed with a body

which dislikes being ill

i have my own horses

who others can't see

perhaps they don't need to

because they're not me

All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

the lost appetite

where has it gone
how can this be
i find it strange
it's just not me
i eat to live
and live to eat
i never stop
until replete
i wake and think
of what i'll eat
bacon eggs
potatoes meat
sweets and biscuits
crisps and snacks
i buy them all
in multi packs
and now it's gone
i just don't care
my need for food
is just not there
no hunger pangs
no desperate craving
just think of all the cash
i'm saving
All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

wolf

a wolf must always
be a wolf
for if a wolf should try to change
in deference to polite society
he would not become a lamb
he would only be
a sad and lonely wolf
separated from his own identity
in a futile wish to please others
longing in the quiet hours
for the forest, the dark, the hunt
remembering others of his ilk
existed still
in the freedom of their self expression
for the way of the wolf
is a matter of pride
he controls his fear and shows his fangs
if the pack reject him
he will hunt alone
let the lamb be the lamb
to gentleness bred
do not ask the wolf to change
for a world without wolves
would be less
and society would have
a lamb in their midst
who in the dark of the night
would still howl for the moon
All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann

passion

passion
to live without passion
is to sleep
to exist in a world of dreamlike quality
for passion makes the music sweeter
the colours brighter
passion brings to our attention
the minute of life
the detail
for those who search
passion lights the fire
for quest
the rhythm of nature
must be appreciated with passion
to hear the beating of the rain
and wish to feel the wetness
is passion
to worship sun
and lift ones face in adoration
takes passion
language may address only
or incite
with the power of words
and passion
to live this life
this gift of glory
in dignified pursuit of the mundane
may be enough
for the many
but to open heart and mind
to the beyond
the greater
to live each day in pursuit
of just one moments
perfection
to allow oneself the release
the pain the beauty
of passion
is to reach for
the ultimate fulfillment
to be alive and to be aware
All materials Copyright © 2004-2008 by Eryll Oellermann