Author: Richard van Rensburg

Ambitious Writer | Masters Psychology Student | Passionate Literary Lover

Deeper than skin

Seven autumns have passed
leaves fallen
trodden on
swept up
much like dreams forgotten
(abandoned).

Renewal: cyclical hope of change
illuminated by colourful explosions,
a simple wish from crying eyes.
“Please, hear me.”

Sometimes it arrives
like an unexpected flowering
in the middle of a dry winter.
A chance encounter, but brief.
Yet beautiful enough to sustain hope.

Contemplation of Existence

It’s the opposite of loneliness
but you can still feel alone in it
where wispy word won’t cut it
clear, no. It just won’t do.

Sometimes it just isn’t enough
and the cravings for something else overpowers
this.
And nobody knows what that something is,
that some
thing.

Is this the place affection comes to die?
Will it lie here, lapping the tears away,
while the void expands
like those black holes?
Anti-matter matters much.

What to do with an empty bed,
and a full heart that feels hollow?
What to do?

Stamped

Here we go, standing in line
with the sweet smell of innocence
and screaming delight.
Thus with a push we arrive
in our ferris wheel seat.
The light is as bright as noise,
and up we go.
It’s curious how it looks
from up here, still a bit strange
moving backwards but upwards.
The wind blows, and we shudder
but keep going till the top.
Oh look at the fireworks,
look at this climax!
But we dare not look down:
fear.
But a steady decline:
six feet under awaits, patiently
because Death knows eternity well.

Difference

An idea, a thought
elusively gone
like so many lives
lost to conformity.
Difference is far off
like those memories:
a scatter cushion
faded red from the years
of indifference;
or that curious conversation
about the touch of a lover.
Time is almost still
but the shadows still move
yet this can’t be seen happening.

Why is this happening?
These thoughts?
What god?
What cruel creature
on Tuesday plays Candy Crush
yet on Wednesday breaks my heart?