NO MORE TEARS

The light in the window is a crack in the sky
A stairway to darkness in the blink of an eye
A levee of tears to learn she’ll never be coming back
The man in the dark will bring another attack

Your mamma told you that you’re not supposed
to talk to strangers
Look in the mirror and tell me do you think your
life’s in danger here

No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears

Another day passes as the night closes in
The red light goes on to say it’s time to begin

I see the man around the corner waiting,
can he see me?
I close my eyes and wait to hear the sound of
someone screaming here

No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears

It’s just a sign of the times
Going forward in reverse
Still, these were our first
It’s just a hand in the bush
A hand in the bush

So now that it’s over can’t we just say good-bye? (bye-bye, bye-bye)
I’d like to move on and make the most of the night
Maybe a kiss before I leave you this way
Your lips are so cold I don’t know what else to say

I never wanted it to end this way my love
my darling
Believe me when I say to you in love I think
Im falling here

No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears
No more tears, tears, tears

It’s just a hand in the bush
(in the bush, in the bush, in the bush…)

ARTIST: OZZY OSBOURNE.

TIME

So ruk gelede sit en gesels ek en n vriend van my oor geloof. Die gesprek gooi toe n draai by die duiwel en sy streke, meer spesifiek oor hoe die duiwel mense verlei in die versoeking in. Sedert ons die gesprek gehad het, het dit in my kop bly stoomrol, presies hoe verlei die duiwel ons. Nou ek ken nes miljoene ander mense die storie van die duiwel plant idees in jou kop in maar ek sluk swaar aan daai een van kindsbeen af, of die duiwel verlei jou met beelde van n halfnaak vrou of man in n advertensie of hy gebruik die oog in elke huis genaamd die televisie, en so kan ek aangaan en trilbiljoen goed opnoem. Die teenmiddel teen ou nick en sy streke sal enige gelowige vir jou se is eenvoudig geloof baie bid en kerk toe gaan en tog ten spyte van dit val duisende gelowiges elke dag, en moet hulle weer Sondag gaan bid vir n vale in die kerk, hoekom is dit so? Daar sal dalk gese word ons is en bly sondaars of miskien was die persoon se geloof nie sterk genoeg nie. Met dit stem ek saam maar dit antwoord nie my vraag nie.En toe so paar dae gelede stuur die Here vir my n antwoord, op die internet van alle plekke. Iemand het eenkeer vir my gese God is a universal post office if you keep asking questions you will receive an answer, wel hier is die antwoord op my vraag nou nie presies soos ek dit gesien het nie maar naby genoeg en, ek moet se dit maak sin.

Once long ago Satan and his horde of demons had an annual meeting. Satan stood and spoke to them in a loud thunderous voice. It matters not what we do but the Christians will always exist, and they will always pray to God, and they will always go to Church. Even if we lead those very Christians into temptation every single day they will still believe in God and his son. I have been thinking of a new way to get more souls in hell. What is that, all the demons shouted ?

We steal their time!!!

For a long moment all was silent among the horde, then an exciting chatter broke out among them and one asked how do we go about doing that?

It is easy Satan said, we keep them so busy that they won’t have time to spend with God. I want you to go and expand their trade industry this will force them to build huge shopping malls, in this they will spend their time. I want it so big they must trade even on Sunday’s from 8 until late this will keep them out of church. I want you to go and expand their sports and entertainment industry, sport and entertainment must become their new God and church, they must worship their favorite sports team, sports player, favorite actors to the existent that this must be all they talk about giving them no time to talk about God giving them no time to spend a few minutes a day in prayer. I want sports to be played on Sundays hence keeping them out of their churches. I want you to bombard their minds with television and film it must be all they talk about. I want you to expand the food industry make them aware of how fat they are how ugly they are make them so obsessed with the way they look they must spend all their time about how they look what they wear how big and beautiful their houses is how much money they earn how nice their late test car or cell phone is. Expand their music industry I want concerts were thousand at a time worship their favorite bands and artists instead of God. So now you know what I want as long as we can steal their time with God their souls will be mine so do what you must.You now have the idea I am sure you will come up with more ways to steal the Christians time.

Wie die skrywer van die stukkie is weet ek nie maar dit laat my dink, aan my stresvolle werk, die dol gejaag van die stadslewe, hoe ek en my vriende mekaar elke dag aanvat oor die Bulle Sharks Lions en Cheetas, hoe kwaad ek raak as ek in die verkeer vassit en die eerste helfte van Sting se konsert mis.

Die jaloesie wat in my opwalm oor my vriend wat n nuwe BMW ry en ek piekel rond in my Toyota bakkie. Ek dink aan die 4 ure wat ek in die mall spandeer om n nuwe hemp en broek te koop en nog 2 ure om n fliek te kyk. Ek jaag in die aande om by die huis te kom want ek gaan 7de Laan mis, dan kyk ek die laat aand fliek en val middernag doodmoeg in die bed sonder om my stof bedekte Bybel oop te maak en net iets te lees, ek le op my rug en begin sag in my kop te bid maar die dag was so hectic ek snork nog voor ek kon dink Onse Vader wat in die hemel is laat……zzzzz.

Ek dink aan die Saterdag wat ek by my pelle drink en braai en rugby kyk, ons vloek en skel mekaar en mekaar se spanne, later as die game verby en vergete is en ons staan en drink om die vuur en vertel ons vuil grappe en praat net oor sport seks werk en karre, en ek wonder waar is God se tyd met my heen vandag. Dan teen middernag val ek weer moeg op die bed neer te dronk om te probeer bid.

Ek dink aan my Sondag wat teen 10 eers begin want ek het my roes afgeslaap van die vorige nag se gekuier. Teen 11 kry ek my vriendin vir brunch teen 12 bel my vriend en vra of ek die krieket gaan kom kyk by die sports bar ja se ek en ek en vriendin slaan saam by die kroeg uit en krieket en kuier tot 7 die aand want more is werk ons kan nie te laat by ons huise kom nie oppad kry ek kfc vir aandete en kyk n dvd tot net na 11 die aand gedaan van die hectic naweek val ek op my bed ek le op my rug en bid gou voor ek slaap Onse Vader wat in die hemel is laat u naam ge………..zzzzzzzzzzzzz!

OWNED

[Written by the Gypsy - 06 February 2009]

this world
self-proclaimed perfection
yet they adore the beauty of their rainbows
with colour-blind eyes

this world
self-proclaimed perfection
yet they feed their hungry children
with photo-shopped printed media

this world
self-proclaimed perfection
yet they love and caress their people
with the hands of abuse

this world
self-proclaimed perfection
yet they inhale the sweet odour
of the flowers of corruption growing wild

this world
self-proclaimed perfection
yet they indulge in the taste
of currencies world wide

this world
un-proclaimed sinners’ haven
yet senselessly omitting one single letter
find (t)His world, find Heaven

GYPSYCROW CHEMISTRY

[Written by the Gypsy – 05 February 2009]

you’re my tourniquet
my nymphetamine boy
you somehow stop the bleeding
ease the pain
calm my fears
erase the stains

you secrete my tears and
set me free of that which holds me hostage
you declare it void
fill my veins
with your oxygen
my sweet breath of life

my lithium heart
exposed to your precious face
crimson turning white
as we drown our tears
forget the past
your nitrogen name engraved in my heart

* Lithium: When placed over a flame, lithium gives off a striking crimson colour, but when it burns strongly, the flame becomes a brilliant white. Lithium will ignite and burn when exposed to water and water vapours in oxygen. It is the only metal that reacts with nitrogen at room temperature.

Hmm .. 3 verses 6 lines each .. 666 .. reminds me of the following ..

FOR YOU

[Artist: H.I.M.]

In the grace of your love I writhe, writhe in pain
In 666 ways I love you and I hope you feel the same

I’m for you
I’m for you

I’m killing myself for your love and again all is lost
In 777 ways I love you ’til my death do us apart

I’m for you – and I’m dying for your love
I’m for you – and my heaven is wherever you are
I’m for you – and I’m dying for your love
I’m for you – and my heaven is wherever you are

In 666 ways I love you and my heaven is wherever you are

I’m here for you – I am here for you
I’m here for you – I am here for you
I’m here for you – I am here for you
I’m here for you – I am here for you

LASTO BETH NIN

[Written by the Gypsy – 04 February 2009]

Y ou appeared and cast a shadow
O ut of the darkness you came
U nannounced taking my hand into yours
R escuing me running away with me
E scaping to a world only we know of

M y compass in the darkest night
Y ou give direction you bring light

E mpowering me to soar above the woods
V ultures can hurt me no more
E ngraving my name in the palm of your hand
R estless souls running two become one
Y ou are the faith inside of me
T hrough every hour of each day
H onestly I can’t deny
I love you forever if I may
N othing will ever erase those words
G the only letter in my alphabet

*Lasto Beth Nin: Elvish for ‘Hear My Voice’

HOW FORTUNATE THE MAN WITH NONE.

You saw sagacious Solomon
You know what came of him,
To him complexities seemed plain.
He cursed the hour that gave birth to him
And saw that everything was vain.
How great and wise was Solomon.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It’s wisdom that had brought him to this state.
How fortunate the man with none.

You saw courageous Caesar next
You know what he became.
They deified him in his life
Then had him murdered just the same.
And as they raised the fatal knife
How loud he cried: you too my son!
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It’s courage that had brought him to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.

You heard of honest Socrates
The man who never lied:
They weren’t so grateful as you’d think
Instead the rulers fixed to have him tried
And handed him the poisoned drink.
How honest was the people’s noble son.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It’s honesty that brought him to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.

Here you can see respectable folk
Keeping to God’s own laws.
So far he hasn’t taken heed.
You who sit safe and warm indoors
Help to relieve out bitter need.
How virtuously we had begun.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It’s fear of god that brought us to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.

Artists: Dead can dance.

SHADOW OF A GYPSYCROW

[Written by the Gypsy – 28 January 2009]

phantom figure
against the wall
walk beside me
break my fall

take my hand
hold it tight
don’t let me go
help me fight

run away with me
into a dream
hear my whisper
silence my scream

following me
wherever I go
my mirror image
my shadow

phantom figure
against the wall of my heart
let the journey begin
this is our brand new start

a monochrome world
seen through our eyes
where we grow closer
forget our goodbyes

a gypsy and a scarecrow
hand in hand
shadows against the wall
forever we stand

SKADU’S TEEN DIE MUUR

die donker kom van buite
en syfer deur die ruite
en ek gooi nog ‘n paar kole op die vuur
en die tafel en die laaikas
en alles wat eers was
versmelt tot blote skadu’s teen die muur

ons drome van gister
word somber en sinister
want kyk alles het ‘n vasgestelde uur
ons beplan toringblokke
maar die slopers is betrokke
en ons drome is bloot skadu’s teen die muur

met orrelbegeleiding
kom die voorspel tot die skeiding
maar dis alles reg, die liefde is ‘n vuur
en van die vorige hofmaak
hoor ons later in die hofsaak
want die liefde is ‘n skadu teen die muur

in swart of wit getooi
in ‘n stoet of in konvooi
wonder elkeen hoelank alles nog sal duur
en leef holderstebolder
want die kis wag op die solder
en die lewe is ‘n skadu teen die muur

die donker kom van buite
en syfer deur die ruite
en ek gooi nog ‘n paar kole op die vuur
en my voete en my hande
word ou bekende lande
in skadukaarte teen die muur
die wereld word ‘n skadu teen die muur
‘n flikkerende skadu teen die muur

Kunstenaar: Koos Du Plessis