Divorce - Part 2 - Why did I go

Divorce - Part 2 - Why did I go

 

If I could turn back the clock in this moment of shock
Which caused me to make such big a mistake
I would be better off now as I am anyhow
And will not repent some stupid event
Which brought me hence to recompense
For some unknown fate which has of late
Deprived me of my peace wanting full release
To free my mind of things unkind

How did our love start

How did our love start? – a poem by P.K. Odendaal – September 2017

If I think of how we met, how can I then forget?

That it was both you and I who wanted to give it a try

Not that we thought it would bring us aught

Or that we had some notion it would stir an emotion

We just happened to gel before we could tell

What was the next step after we have met?

I asked you by the way if we could meet another day

To which you made known that you were also alone

An Ode to God - No. 1

An Ode to God – a poem by P.K. Odendaal – August 2016.

For a mere mortal like me, and a very ignorant one at that, I can make no other rational deduction than that God had created Himself. It is therefore with humility and wonder that I composed this Ode to God:

O, wondrous God, what happened on the instant you made yourself?

There were no mountains to tremble or thunders to rejoice,

There was no human or angel to bow before and adore you,

Yet the greatest miracle of all was born without a sigh.

An Ode to Life

An Ode to Life – a poem by P.K.Odendaal – April 2018

Soft, tell me how you find life's purpose and life's mind

Are you the one who says life's fruits are all a mess

Let me not hear that you heart is full of fear

Because you doubt what life is all about

You tell me that life is pain and only grief remain

That the good that you have done did benefit no one

And each time you tried to rejoice it was with a hollow voice

Yet all the suffering and shame was repeated again and again

Love is not love which alters ...

Love is not love which alters .. – a poem by P.K. Odendaal – April 2018

And so it came as a fright to my senses last night
That love is not free as I thought it to be 
Love is not love when we have to defend the feelings we have to pretend
And to know it is there in moments we care

To entertain a notion when we know that emotion
Is an impostor when such feelings we foster.
And should not drive our fate when our love turns to hate

If we say that we love when we are not so sure
Is more than our frail souls can endure

Our fate in this place

Our fate in this place - a poem by P.K. Odendaal - March 2018

People end up in hate when they accept that their fate
Will keep them in shame for the rest of the game
In stead they may find a moment so kind.
To do as they should in the moment so good.

Not for their sake but in order to make
Mankind and earth a place full of mirth
For they then shall find that all will be kind
And they will never go back to their previous attack.

Love of my Life – Part 4 - A poem

Love of my Life – Part 4 – by P.K. Odendaal – October 2017 

I wish I could die whilst knowing that I
Could never be seen to have breached that stream
Which flowed from my heart right from the start
And kept me awake just for her sake 

And indeed it did never stop my endeavour
To try and make sure I would always endure
When love's own sweet grace would shine on my face
Like a blessing on me to let me go free 
And let me forget any kind of regret
As the years would go by without any sigh
Or as troubles would flee in the face of such glee.

Love of my life - Part 3 - A poem

Love of my life - Part 3 – by P.K. Odendaal – September 2017

We got to the start of what was painful and hard

Because we had thought it was the love that we sought

And so sweet and so right for a future so bright

Which shone like the stars through our nebulae of scars

A love lost poem

A love lost poem - by P.K. Odendaal - August 2017

In the previous part I have constrained my heart, to say what I want without any doubt, but now I must hand the pen to a friend.

I love the poems of Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and the following one will beat everyone:

FROM THE GRAVE

When the first sere leaves of the year were falling, 
I heard, with a heart that was strangely thrilled, 
Out of the grave of a dead Past calling, 
A voice I fancied forever stilled. 

To the love of my life - Part 2 - A poem

To the love of my life - Part 2 - by P.K. Odendaal - August 2017

At first it seemed right and my future was bright

But as time went by, I could not rely

On a love that was blind and I unable to find

Peace for my soul to make my life whole.

I was far too shy to give love a try

And she to find a friendship so kind

With a boy who knew less of a loving caress

Than a soul on the run just looking for fun.

To the love of my life - Part 1 - A poem

To the love of my life, whoever she was – by P.K. Odendaal - August 2017.

The muse visited me last night just before bedtime and this poem streamed out of my soul – hope you enjoy it and that it touches a part of your soul:

This is just an ode to a friendship of old
Which went up in smoke when love had no hope
Yet the grief and the pain is all that remain
In a world and a season when friendship had no reason.

Poem - Peter and Paul

Peter and Paul by Lewis Carroll.

I do not know why I love this poem - it makes me laugh and it makes me cry and it makes me see how the world goes by - but here it is - for those of you who have friends which should really be your enemies.


‘Peter is poor,’ said noble Paul,
‘And I have always been his friend:
And, though my means to give are small,
At least I can afford to lend.
How few, in this cold age of greed,
Do good, except on selfish grounds!
But I can feel for Peter’s need,
And I WILL LEND HIM FIFTY POUNDS!’

Phantasmagoria - Canto V

CANTO V--Byckerment

"Don't they consult the 'Victims,' though?"
I said. "They should, by rights,
Give them a chance--because, you know,
The tastes of people differ so,
Especially in Sprites."

The Phantom shook his head and smiled.
"Consult them? Not a bit!
'Twould be a job to drive one wild,
To satisfy one single child -
There'd be no end to it!"

Phantasmagoria - Canto IV

Phantasmagoria by Lewis Carroll - Canto IV--Hys Nouryture

"Oh, when I was a little Ghost,
A merry time had we!
Each seated on his favourite post,
We chumped and chawed the buttered toast
They gave us for our tea."

"That story is in print!" I cried.
"Don't say it's not, because
It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide!"
(The Ghost uneasily replied
He hardly thought it was).

Ballad of Reading Goal - Part VI

Ballad of Reading Goal - Part VI (end) - by Oscar Wilde

 

In Reading gaol by Reading town

There is a pit of shame,

And in it lies a wretched man

Eaten by teeth of flame,

In a burning winding-sheet he lies,

And his grave has got no name.

And there, till Christ call forth the dead,

In silence let him lie:

No need to waste the foolish tear,

Or heave the windy sigh:

The man had killed the thing he loved,

And so he had to die.

And all men kill the thing they love,

By all let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!

Phantasmagoria - Canto III

Phantasmagoria by Lewis Carroll - CANTO III - Scarmoges
 

"And did you really walk," said I,
"On such a wretched night?
I always fancied Ghosts could fly -
If not exactly in the sky,
Yet at a fairish height."

"It's very well," said he, "for Kings
To soar above the earth:
But Phantoms often find that wings -
Like many other pleasant things -
Cost more than they are worth.

Ballad of Reading Gaol - Part V

Ballad of Reading Gaol - Part V.

 

I know not whether Laws be right,

Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in goal
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.

But this I know, that every Law

That men have made for Man,
Since first Man took his brother’s life,
And the sad world began,
But straws the wheat and saves the chaff
With a most evil fan.

Ballad of Reading Gaol - Part IV

IV 

There is no chapel on the day
On which they hang a man:
The Chaplain's heart is far too sick,
Or his face is far too wan,
Or there is that written in his eyes
Which none should look upon.
 
So they kept us close till nigh on noon,
And then they rang the bell,
And the Warders with their jingling keys
Opened each listening cell,
And down the iron stair we tramped,
Each from his separate Hell.

Phantasmagoria - Canto II

CANTO II--Hys Fyve Rules

"My First--but don't suppose," he said,
"I'm setting you a riddle -
Is--if your Victim be in bed,
Don't touch the curtains at his head,
But take them in the middle,

"And wave them slowly in and out,
While drawing them asunder;
And in a minute's time, no doubt,
He'll raise his head and look about
With eyes of wrath and wonder.

Ballad of Reading Gaol - Part III

Ballad of Reading Gaol - Part III

In Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the dripping wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a Warder walked,
For fear the man might die.
 
Or else he sat with those who watched
His anguish night and day;
Who watched him when he rose to weep,
And when he crouched to pray;
Who watched him lest himself should rob
Their scaffold of its prey.