Poetry by David J. Ferreira

 

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The Ingrid Sea

 

Cape Town 1965

The sea hush me with each grace across vast shore

Calling to his cold embrace, me to his adore

The moon lace an impassive face, whispering winds calling to me more

“Come O woman with poetry a fraise,” with siren song and lore.

“The Ingrid whose face I seek, show at my seashore.”

“Come O beautiful Jonker,” a hiss to my core.

 

The night enshroud I, the widow of words – I hear his roar

See my faults not, woe of my humanity hear nor

The tears I weepily wipe as his sinister shore swallows, to people had I implore

Sea of death all along was, I fear it all lies – too late now, he devours me, my dark mage

The sweet calls transform to terror elicit rage

Sea crash over me, smashing , dispose of I with turbulence, O dark and biting cage

I struggle against a watery embrace, my grave of dark depression

His suffocating silence, his nefarious laughter – My consuming suicide – a clean Lucifrian deception

My mind swirls with memories of life and pain, of love, laughter and glee

Then, my last breath filled with burning sea

 

Indeed a disconsolate day tomorrow, a father mourns, "They can throw her back into the sea for all I care."

Jonker, your mesmerized writings of rhyme and rhythm immortalized – Ingrid Jonker O beautiful solitaire…

 

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BLOOD

 

the Ending never beginning

Alive never dead

the smile never tearing

the doors of dread ahead

Looming

Like the sunshine of a day fading

fading, failing, fault, flaw, failing

mists of misfortune lingering like darkness of dominance

So s-wept so sideways so the man so innocence

“Crucify” Sacrifice!

And then by predators called friends – fiends! His body was broken!

Sweating BLOOD – pain - Praise, pride passion power taken?

Received!

slithering tongues, scaly skins, soft lies, a savage sadistic murder, a trophy, He - a victory token

the skies darken, the sacred dividing curtain riven

Night Ending, now beginning. But He would fight

JESUS – Salvation

BLOOD, holy fire, Light

we - salvaged by His pious devotion

Blessings, Salvation, Light, Light, Light

Present becomes past, pristine, a new emotion

Do you understand -

fright (the lamb slaughtered) sight, bright

- LIGHT!

 

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A Love Letter From an Uneducated Gardener

 

Yo’r mother writhed in a scream of pain when ye departed in blood

that miscarriage, a crak in the fasade - a crumble in the veneer

fortress a formidable fortification, broke down by a forming life

for ye my dear, a thousand tear

my babe, for twenty and six weeks me knew ye were inside my wife

(i know beacuase i counted) six moons thy was nigh, and i…

…howl, bawl, drawl, whimper, wail, weep

Oh how i must believe that with the angels ye sleep,

lost to a father in the sky

my precious unborn girl that died before ye lived

(stillborn they called ye)… for you i cry

my soul seems ded, my heart bled,

my life is now an endles dark winter with no spring to come

Oh how can i sow another seed in me wife?

Oh how can i e’er have another? no none!

Oh my Aster, my Marigold, my Eden…

my Lilac, my Lily, my Iris, my Abelia

…my beloved AMELLIA to ye i write this love letter…

i clamp me teeth and i wipe away a single tear…

 

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