Chris van der Westhuizen

As julle maar net kon sien
dat jul woorde wonde toedien,
dat jul houding teenoor my
die woord antagonisme oorskry.

My eens borrelende, warm hart
is oorvol smart.
My eens vriendelike, opregte mens
se gees is nou verwronge.

Die ironie van die saak is wel
dat my oppergesag nie daaroor kwel.
Ek het my misnoeë bekend gemaak,
maar het myself daardeur geskaak.
Want my oëaanskynlike, onbenullige grief
brandmerk my as “oorsensitief”-
as iemand tog net jul skuld kon sien
verby jul heilige, vroom gesiggies!

Die front wat ek voorhou
verberg my wonde, rou.
My gesig, my hart in jul hand,
is onherkenbaar - misvormd verbrand.

My liefde is vervang met vrees;
ek word verwerp, ek’s wees.
Sistematiese vervreemding is hier die reël -
help! My glimlag is gesteel!

                              Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2017 (Gedigte gedeelte 1 van 6)

My Smile Has Been Stolen

If only you could see
how your words cut wounds in me,
how your coldness toward my face
goes far beyond mere lack of grace.

My once warm and joyful heart
is now weighed down, torn apart.
The once sincere and kind in me
is now a warped identity.

The irony that cuts me deep,
Is that my boss just lets it sleep.
I voiced my grief - my deep dismay -
and in so doing, pushed myself away.
For my seemingly petty, apparent grief
now brands me as “just too sensitive.”
If only someone dared to trace
your guilt behind that holy faces!

The front I wear each day I cope
hides raw wounds beneath fake hope.
My face, my heart within your hand
is scorched beyond what one could stand.

My love has turned into my fear;
I’m rejected - I’m left a cast-off here.
Systematic exile now sets the tone -
help! My smile is gone. I'm all alone.

                              Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2017 (Poems part 1 of 6. Translated from Afrikaans)