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You were

The beach and the mountains to me

The highlands and the green pastures to me

You were

The dolphins in the blue waters

Jumping and floating and grey

You were

The cows in the meadows

Black and white and sacred

You were

The sunsets to me

The clouds to me

The crepes to me,

Sweet, nourishing and still i had to go

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Our stereotype, is not so bad

and for that, I am glad

they paint us as, saints that walk the land

this isn’t completely fair,

we have bad apples here and there

we are not all, John lennonites

but still, most try to be nice.

Danger, can bring people closer

maybe that, is why we get past

petty differences, For we survive

The rage, of the disturbed Goose

The conniving villainy, of the Raccoon

The power, of the Grizzly bear

The hunt, of the Orca

The Hardship, Of winter.

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When there's rain,
people smile.
When there's sunshine, people laugh.
When there's both,
people know they're in Belgium.

A place with

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The Big Five; lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo, rhino
hawbo!

catching waves at the beach
eish!

At a braai, having a jol
Boerewors, poetjie, sarmies en droewors
Gatvol???

Biltong is a must have
Laduma, yebo, rugga, vuvuzela

wildlife
beach goers
sports
friends and family

auntie
ballie
bergie
lanie

united under one anthem Nkosi Sikeleli

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The Middle Kingdom was my home

Until my native language became that of another land

The Land of Liberty was my home

Until industry desired to take me elsewhere

The Low Countries were my home

Until I lost a lover

Until my close kin flourished with malignancy

Until I found a soulmate abroad

Until intentions were aroused in alternative lands

And now I’m haunted by reminiscence

Ambitions unknown

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Red
for the courageous
white
for the pure
blue
for the loyal
let there be freedom for all no matter race or religion

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The land of fire, purity and peace,

No other has this pride,

The beauty and independence within its land

The richness of India is nowhere to be banned

It may be the sculptures, or the scriptures

Or even the culture
N

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The glistening waters
that represents a
great compassion within
And concerning hugs
like the depths of your lakes.

The tall and sturdy trees
which shows your experience
and tells the glory of your life
It makes you look wise and old
with the greenery flowing through

The garbage might be ugly
but its a reminder of your wrongs
and the people who wronged you
the excrements of great events
sorrow to never fade in this life

But thats what makes you real
your imperfection is perfect
and thats why Im proud.

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you could thank belgium
for having
a
balanced diet is
chocolate in
both hands

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I see a boy

Standing on the his mother’s surface

Waving his flag, and proudly screaming

“Hindustan”

A place where true colours are shown

And place where each individual has a smile

That will never wash out

My mother keeps all her children

In the great land of humanity

and the great land of diversity.

My mother has given us region with religions

Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism

Aren’t they all the same

My mother provided resources and knowledge,

And I can with honour say

my mother is INDIA.

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Uncontrollable state of mind

Is a thing that’s always at your sight

Good-looking and rich and tiny

Are a few things that I see and like

But where the heart is

Is where the truth lies

Heat and rain and sand

Are a few things I’ve heard you have

Water and wind and light

Are a few things I’ve heard you’ll see at night

However,

Where do I draw the boundary

Between sand and rain,

And wealth so nice

Will I be able to decide,

Where my feelings change for life?

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You were

mountains to me

grounding and strong and true

You were

rivers to me

deep and flowing and blue

You were

the stars to me

bright and light and new

You were

the salmons leap to me

the castles keep to me

the eagles shriek echoing echoing

You were all I ever knew

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'Belgium or Fifty shades of really Grey' (Mr. Bart)

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'Belgium or Fifty shades of really Grey' (Mr. Bart)

# data[].attributes.body
angry mud
marks of labor under a heavy sky
pregnant with yesterday's regret
sink my spirit to a deeper plane
the wind is breathing unfinished
poetry into the damp air
and as I look back
only footprints bear witness
of this silent treatment
this uncaring tableau
this melancholy stream
calmly meandering
like the canals and brooks
that fail to glisten in the sun
that is not there
and mute the chanting
of birds looking to migrate
church bells weeping
over the dying grass
and oddly detached
my mind wanders
until a sharp sound
a metallic shriek invades
and wakes me
brings me back here
where I belong
a goddamn traffic jam