NaPoWriMo

1st April 2013

Peace Train
Worcester Hope & Reconciliation Process
29 January 2013 – Worcester Train Station
 
A human train is running through our Land
From Worcester to Pretoria with love
Changing hearts changing minds where do you stand
Our guidance wisdom comes from the ONE above
 
On train rails in the dungeons of your mind
Search where you have never been before
Stop at your stations leave the dirt behind
Let GOD open through your cry a new door
 
Solving problems through chaos on your knees
Leave your island and feel welcome on board
A journey seeking everlasting peace
Where South-Africans stand in one accord
 
Envy hatred will bring us all nowhere
You are the difference. Join. Show you care!

NaPoWriMo

2nd April 2013

A better future together for us all
(Worcester Hope & Reconciliation Process)
( A poem dedicated to Abeeda Harris June 1976
   After reading an article by Zelda Jongbloed
   in RAPPORT of 10 June 2012)
 
The beauty of twins smashed by an evil order
An 11year old lily of Sandkraal Avenue George
Hit by a live bullet while standing at a front gate
Watching wandering what’s going on around
Dying with her bread in hand, falling to the ground
 
Where are you sir. You who pulled the trigger?
Who are you and where do you dwell now?
Questions and lies, questions and lies and you?
Walking scot-free raising your child?
Where are you silent killers. Happy – trigger – fingers?
 
Her Mum Susan Harris did not want to be questioned
By the Truth & Reconciliation Commission
For her nothing will secure our future vision
The trauma will be too much of a pain
When thinking of bullets quirts and teargas rain
 
South Africa today is being led by our YOUTH
We believe in you. Your HOPE. We hear your call
You who sees a better future together for us all
A young generation who’s building a new day everyday
Damn you selfish people! Yóu are bringing South Africa to a fall!

NaPoWriMo

3rd April 2013

South Africa our Land
(Worcester Hope & Reconciliation Process)
(17 December 2012)
(Worcester Town Hall 9h00)

let us join hands town to town, save our land
let us fight for joy love peace hope respect
let us create a new path hand in hand
a platform for us all to interact

let us start with the road inside of us
seeds of positivity boiling through
let us look for the diamond without rush
inside the person standing next to you

we owe this to our beautiful country
we owe this to our free societies
we owe this to our sick and elderly
raising GOD’s CHILDREN in communities

*Leon: “Who’s going to get tired first?”
let us stand firm, before our bubble burst!

(*Referring to Dr Leon Wessels, Commissioner of the Human Rights-Commission)

http://www.youtube.com
NaPoWriMo

4th April 2013

The 2nd Level of apartheid

 How do we crush the 2nd Level of apartheid?
When its big smiles with an arm length distance
 
How do we destroy the 2nd Level of apartheid?
Farm workers chased straight into squatter camps
 
How do we extinguish the 2nd Level of apartheid?
When the “Dop” system is still alive and in place
 
How do we freeze the 2nd Level of apartheid?
Education becomes: “Right of admission reserved”
 
How do we guillotine the 2nd Level of apartheid?
When ask: “What are you people doing in our neighborhood”
 
How do we handcuff the 2nd Level of apartheid?
When front covers festivals remain 99% {…} 1% {…}
 
How do we stop this inhumane 2nd Level of apartheid?
Reach out. Touch somebody’s heart. STOP! The heartache! …
NaPoWriMo

5th April 2013

God’s Peace Table of Love & Hope
(Worcester Hope & Reconciliation Process)
(Worcester Town Hall – 09 November 2012)
 
Come to God’s Peace Table of Love & Hope
Reconcile restore the hurts of the past
And build this process on a rock that last
Rejoice His beauty through a telescope
 
Light Your flame of joy while we celebrate
A season in Your Garden of Eden
Sharing pots of gold for a good reason
As we speak today heart – to – heart ’till late
 
Light our candles with a new sensation
let us drop the colours of the rainbow
on shoulders of our future generation
 
While they are playing joyfully in snow
uplifting building with a vibration
we know they will make South Africa glow
NaPoWriMo

6th April 2013

When Worcester goes to Easter
 
In Worcester,
Where it seems as if Moslems and Christians are celebrating together
Tailors are proud for sitting the whole night through
As they see smiling faces of children with their tailorcutsuits
Walking pass their workshops
On their way to the yearly Easter Bazaar
 
Friday,
After the long Crucifying service
Its pickled fish
That nobody in Worcester would like to miss
That’s why all fisheries are bought empty,
Because when you go visit
Pickled fish will be dished
 
Saturdays the last Easter egg
Would be bought from the shelves because
 
Sunday
After church,
Children must look around and seek
For their presents,
Maybe somewhere hidden in a pillowcase
Midnight dances and bioscope are
Now open for all adults and children
 
Monday
Is the day we’ve all been waiting for
When the workers of GOD
Stand up at the crack of dawn
 
To prepare bazaar tables
With confectionery baskets, jam,
Crullers, samosas, jelly and sweet melon
With a horde of games, competitions, lotteries
And roars of laugther
 
Music
Is at the order of the day
It’s brassbands, Coons, “Langarm”
Pop, jazz, reggae just where you go
With the “gedoef-doef” of a passersby
Motorcar
Everyone wants to be louder then the other
Until the early morning hours
Leave the youth with their pleasure
 
Pa, ma, grandpa and grandma must show up with a smile
Because today is the day for the children
Where there must still be money left
For the churche’s collecting list
 
A tapestry of colours and life
Are now in Leopoldt Avenue and Grey Street,
Parker Street and Buitenkant Street,
Le Seuer Street and Durban Street
To the popular bazaars at the AME,
Congregational, Calvyns, NG,
The Moslems at the Ikramia and the Mosque
 
Suddenly so now and then
A thunderstorm and lightning comes to greet,
But even this, is no queller
On our children’s exited emotions
 
With church tables bought empty and doors closed,
The youth now moves
To dance floors for their annual midday sessions
In halls or clubs with tinted windows
 
At twilight time
When the children are coming home
All visitors greet for their
Long walk home
Our town is quite
Everyones at rest
With a deep longing
For our next Easter
 
GOD,
Thank YOU for bringing us Easter
A weekend in Worcester, so unique
Where firmness in faith are making
Big waves
NaPoWriMo

7th April 2013

A Spark to Freedom
(After our Restitution & Reconciliation Group’s Pilgrimage
  to Robben Island Museum Saturday 16th April 2011 with
  Leader and Tour guide Dr Deon Snyman under the auspices
  of our Chairman Claude Schroeder)
 
I hear cell doors slam
Shouts of pain afar
Severe barbaric fury
By generals and their subordinates
Inflicted on defenseless prisoners in shackles
 
Then…the sun
 
O’ the everlasting long
Burning sun on the
Heads of Rock breakers
Freedom Fighters against apartheid
That with every blow chiseled
A Spark to Freedom!
 
Their persistent protesting
Perseverance that
Break licks the bone
Shone in full glory
When Nelson Mandela Robert Sobukwe
Walter Sisulu and shout for joy Comrades
With clenched fists on high
Walked into
A New South-Africa
A New Africa
 
With every visit to
Robben Island Museum
We think of their blood                                        a chisel
                         sweat                               a hammer
                          bones                              a rock
               that lie buried                              a spark
            for our Freedom                              chained in shackles
 
At night when your screams and pain
At my hearts door knock
I know, this is a story
For generation’s never to stop…
NaPoWriMo

8th April 2013

My secret unknown jogger in the Park
 
every early Saturday mornings
in the Park
my heart dies in you
as you jogging by
 
your cute smile
your soft: “Hallo”
makes my knees jelly
 
I bath myself in
your sweaty face
        sweaty skimpy top
        sweaty tights
        sweaty body curves
and faint in the
pink reddish blush
of your cheeks
 
before you disappear
around the bend
you start jogging backwards
waving blowing a kiss
knowing you’re gently
very seductively
killing me
 
who are you lady
with your Swedish white golden
long hair sending out
love – calls to my heart
you’re pinning me
static to the ground
 
I’m so anxious for my
early morning Saturday’s
stroll in the Park
 
you captured my heart
my secret Swedish Lady in the Park
you captured my heart…
NaPoWriMo

9th April 2013

With this ring …
(To: Frederik Bester & Almatine Leen
       on their wedding day 15 July 2011)
 
With this ring my search is complete
I’ve laid my head down on many a pillow
writing deep love letters beneath a willow
but always running crazily back to you indeed
 
with this ring the circle is sealed
knitting two hearts with God’s golden thread
kneeling before Him Jesus Christ our Head
knowing when sorrow strikes it will be healed
 
with this ring we cheerfully say: “I do, I do, I do”
a diamond ring that both of us will wear
the only reflection we’ll see is YOU, is YOU, is YOU
 
with this ring nothing will rock our world apart
we will not be tossed by stormy seas we solemnly swear
we will stay in the nucleus centre, straight in YOUR HEART!
NaPoWriMo

10th April 2013

Mamma Africa is bleeding
 
Mamma Africa is bleeding, like never before
Nobody wins, only losers during modern time war.
 
Mamma Africa is bleeding, babies die like lightning
Africa’s women, the rock, die clenched fist fighting.
 
Mamma Africa is raped. Women children stare
With glazed eyes. Their bodies chained. No escape.
 
Mamma Africa’s beauty, her tapestry is painted
Bloody red. Soldiers shouting: “Watch your STEP!”
 
Mamma Africa casts her black shadow over African soil.
Her body pierced dipped ripped gauged in Baal’s turmoil.
 
Mamma Africa bends her head. Silence… Too ashamed of
What new generations will read about her dead?
 
Dictators with bloodstained hands never stop, nor step down
They cling to their castles, their gold, diamonds and crown

11th April 2013

Worcesterians
 
Now we’ve come to this point thus far
where all of us came with a huge hessian bag
and scatter our past into the wind
respecting cultures tackling problems
 
Worcesterians who wants to make a difference
put their hands up worship praise jubilate and shout
they’re making the circle bigger for HIS task
bending their knees early morning before GOD
 
we are dealing with the past, very gently
working on a future for future generations
building safe havens step by step
because tomorrow remains unforeseen
 
Help healing the lessons of pain through the
Worcester Hope en Reconciliation Process

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 

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Peace Train – by Mr Floris Abraham Brown

Peace Train

© Floris Brown

Worcester Hope & Reconciliation Process (Worcester-South Africa)

1st April 2013

 

A human train is running through our Land

From Worcester to Pretoria with love

Changing hearts changing minds where do you stand

Our guidance wisdom comes from the ONE above

 

On train rails in the dungeons of your mind

Search where you have never been before

Stop at your stations leave the dirt behind

Let GOD open through your cry a new door

 

Solving problems through chaos on your knees

Leave your island and feel welcome on board

A journey seeking everlasting peace

Where South-Africans stand in one accord

 

Envy hatred will bring us all nowhere

You are the difference. Join. Show you care!

 

3 Speeches with the Honoring of Mr Floris Abraham Brown by the Stigting vir Bemagtiging deur Afrikaans-Woordfees and Versindaba in Stellenbosch on the 24 September 2011

 

SPEECH ON THE OCCASION OF AN HONORARY PRESENTATION TO

 

FLORIS ABRAHAM BROWN BY THE STIGTING VIR BEMAGTIGING DEUR

 

AFRIKAANS.

 

UNIVERSITY OF STELLENBOSCH VERSINDABA 24 SEPTEMBER 2011

 

CHARLES P BEUKES

 

Late one Saturday afternoon I sat in the upper room of a guesthouse in Auchterarder, a small

village in Scotland close to the world famous Glen Eagles Hotel where my daughter does her

practical work, and I started writing about Floris Brown. Just because I have been considering

to write an article for some or other publication.

I never thought that this spontaneous piece of work would get expression at today’s

proceedings here at the US where Brown is being acknowledged by the SBA. It is a

tremendous honour for me to be part of this prestigious event. Thank you, Boeta, for

bestowing this honour upon me.

Say the name FLORIS BROWN and several images run through your mind.

It’s the composer, the instrumentalist and singer, creator of many Hit Parade songs.

It’s the English poet, the Afrikaans poet, the international poet.

It’s the cultural activist, the laureate sport legend who was honoured for his contribution to

chess among black players in 2007.

Boeta for his music followers across the country and F A Brown for the culture ghurus of

South Africa and The Netherlands.

Al these qualities in one person, but always as his life calling number 1 – the teacher of

Worcester.

Floris Abraham Brown was a teacher before teachers became educators.

Born in Worcester on 10 September 1948 as the oldest son of Johnny and Maggie Brown he

started his school career at the Primary School of the African Methodist Episcopal Church

and completed his schooling at Esselenpark High School. He studied for a teacher at HEWAT

and Bellville Training Colleges.

Our paths crossed for the first time when my father started the Boy Scouts in Worcester and

Boeta was our troup leader. SInce then I have been privileged to write several articles about

this very talented man.

Brown has recently published his 23rd volume,

Kaleidoskoop, and in March this year he was

already working on three new volumes of work, of which one is a manual for the volume

GLOEI.

Brown’s mission is to inspire people NOT to hide their God-given talents, but to utilise them to

the full, despite being less talented or feeling inferior due to a physical disability.

His music talent was stimulated by his father. At the young age of 15 his musical leadership

was proven when he already played in a band,

Romeo 5, and at 18 he established the

 

Restless Children

 

, which was destined to become one of the country’s most popular bands.

They were in a class of their own, namely a band with their own original compositions, of

which

Until Tomorrow burst through the racist colour barrier to make the official Top 20 of

South Africa. It also achieved GOLDEN RECORD STATUS. At that stage he was already a

member of the prestigious “Guild of International Songwriters and Composers” in England.

Those of you who used to follow the “Allemans” on radio on Saturday mornings would have

heard him and his new band,

Bacarasj, on the program. One of his compositions, Hard to

 

Reach You

 

, was used in the movie “Dollars and white pipes”.

I might add that even today – in post-apartheid South Africa – his compositions are still an

eye-opener to many of our countrymen, as though there is a musical revival of an era on

which they missed out due to apartheid. Many people missed out on the privilege of hearing

the super group Restless Children because it would not have been politically correct to

support a local artist of colour, as a friend of mine found out in standard 9 when he

announced his intention to buy his fellow-townsman’s record. Today he is the biggest

collector of Restless Children compositions.

I was privileged to have been the first journalist to write about the Restless Children, but I was

somewhat irritated with the headline of “Tokkel Tokkel kom hulle oor die bult” in RAPPORT

EKSTRA. It sounded so common, and I thought for a moment that, had it been an urban

group, the headline would certainly have been less banal.

Boeta plays the keyboard, flute and guitar with ease and is one of those artists who has the

ability to make a whole recording on his own with al the instruments and then sing as well!

Like their father, his children Rumacques, Natasja, Glireska and Rhaändi all have musical

talent, but they mainly apply it to religious music.

Brown has appeared in numerous television programmes as individual, as well as with his

band on SABC2, SABC3 (Focus & Pasella) and Kyknet, while Radio Sonder Grense and

other stations have also had him as guest on their programmes.

He started writing poetry at the age of 12 and must have been one of the youngest published

poets – in America and England of all places. Some historians may regard this stage of his

life as typical of the situation in our country in those years – with many talented sportsmen,

singers and also artists of the word looking abroad to utilise opportunities which did not come

their way in South Africa due to apartheid. Basil D’Oliveira, Precious McKenzie, Danny

Williams … to mention but a few.

Boeta said farewell to his life-work – teaching – in 1999, but unlike other retirees his work

tempo has doubled after his retirement if you look at the number of creations that flowed from

his pen since. He would, however, not allow the black victim syndrome to keep him prisoner

2

as was the case with so many other potential black achievers – No, Boeta was not a passive

victim of apartheid, but he fought actively against it.

His wife of 40 years, Gloria, says that there was never a chance of having a relaxed

retirement. The focus just shifted but the volume of work increased. I could not contain my

curiosity as to how Boeta proposed to her, seeing as he is such a fundi with words. She

answered, “He never asked me to marry him. After 40 years I’m still waiting for him to ask

me!”

Unlike other artists he is everything but an introvert and his true love and compassion for his

people and his environment is woven through his work like a golden thread. Many of his

volumes were sold exclusively to provide much needed funding for charity institutions like

Chipros Rural Empowerment and Eden Day Care Centre for the Intellectually Impaired.

In 2000 he establishes the Breedevallei Dichters with the aid of Mrs Christine Gerber, Head

Librarian of the Breedevallei Municipality, as a launching pad for many new and upcoming

Afrikaans poets who would otherwise never see their work printed. To me this meant a whole

new dimension to the culture in Worcester – that of launching poetry volumes and reading

poetry out loud.

In 2001 he was honoured by the Worcester Junior Rapportryers as Worcesterite of the Year.

The Breedevallei Dichters initiative brought even more work, as he is now wearing the

mentor’s cloak for many young aspiring poets. One of these is Kiwidore Fielies, who made an

exclusive contribution to the World Cup legacy in 2010 by launching a competition among

learners of Worcester in which they had to write poems with the World Cup as their theme.

This was exclusive, as this is the only known competition of its kind in South Africa, and

Brown also had a hand in this.

His own contribution to this once-in-a-lifetime event was an internationally played World Cup

song for the Breedevallei World Cup Action, which was played regularly on Valley FM radio

and at the World Cup fanjol in Worcester to inspire and mobilise the rural communities to

become part of this historic event. The Breedevallei Action was the only one in the Western

Cape and possibly South Africa, with our own fanjol signature tune on our local radio station,

Valley FM 88.8, our own World Cup song sung by Alexa Strauss, a Matie student, and also a

World Cup volume as legacy. In all of these F A Brown’s hand was instrumental.

His life motto is: Success lies in those things you leave behind for others to learn from. His

strong sense of justice and fairness can be seen in everything he does.

The pen is mightier than the sword and I believe that if history writes about the legacy of

Floris Abraham Brown one day, it will be reflected how he, as a non-violent activist, as a word

activist who fought against apartheid in a non-arrogant way, has shaken thousands of others

who saw themselves as victims of apartheid, out of their victim syndrome. With his music, his

compositions, his poetry and other written work he has set a living and inspiring benchmark of

how NOT to allow the dark side of externally enforced discrimination to extinguish the shining

side of your God-given inherent potential.

For this, today we salute with pride an icon in his own right from our lovely Breedevallei.

3

 

The Restless Child of Worcester – a poet

 

without acknowledgement

 

© By Michael le Cordeur

 

Dr Michael le Cordeur teaches Afrikaans for Teaching students at the University of

 

Stellenbosch.

 

The time has come for publishers to swallow their pride and acknowledge Floris

 

Brown as poet. Or will we wait, as was the case with another giant and coloured

 

community poet, Adam Small, until it is too late? Michael le Cordeur delivered a

 

speech at the “Versindaba” on the campus of the US on Saturday, in which he argued

 

that Brown has reached maturity as poet, despite being disregarded.

 

I first heard of Floris Brown when I was still at school and he, as songwriter for the group

Restless Children

, achieved golden status with his song Until Tomorrow. One of his songs

was chosen last year to be sung at fanjols and World Cup stadia. Our roads only truly

became intertwined, however, in 1985 when we became colleagues in school sport, where his

knowledge of chess impressed me.

The retired teacher of Worcester was always busy teaching; be it as poet, playwright, chess

master, teacher, songwriter, spouse, father or community leader. Floris never ceases to

remind us that there is always a tomorrow; you can never give up; you can never stop

praying, because tomorrow is waiting.

If I have to summarise his life, I would have to say that he has played an ongoing chess

match against authority; against the former government, his struggle against apartheid, his

being coloured, his God. Always ready to make the next move.

The Restless Child’s contribution to Afrikaans is comprehensive; more than 24 volumes of

poetry with poems in more than 72 compilations between 1974 and 2011; several short

stories, one-act plays and dramas. His writings include

Gloei (1994); Phoenix (1996); Waar

 

Aasvoëls Draai

 

(1996); Die Woudmaker (1998); Skadukinders (1999); Grysvos (2000); Die

 

Koei Stort ’n Traan

 

(2000); Klank van die Byl (2000); Roep van die Maanwolf (2002); Rott

 

(2003);

Blokhuis (2005); Altyd die liefde (2007, in Belgium) and more recently Kaleidoskoop

 

and

Sing vir my (2011).

Anthologies in which his work was published include

Aankoms Uit Die Skemer; Groen en

 

Reënboogstemme; Different Horisons; Nuwe Verset; Taal van Liefde

 

and Carved in Stone.

 

He also published in The Netherlands, among others in

Honderd Nieuwe Dichters 3, De

 

Afrikaanse poëzie in 1000; De Dichters uit Epibreren

 

and Gedichten bij de Netring .

 

His last volume,

Kaleidoskoop, is to me the culmination of Brown’s repertoire; a multicoloured

extravaganza in which he moves the borders frequently, as though he is afraid to

restrict himself. This volume offers a caleidoscopic view on the current workers class’ way of

life. He has an intense appreciation of his own history and the contributions of his own people

4

towards the public good. In

Skertsend (Gloei, 1994) he refers to the contribution of one of the

town’s most colourful characters, Mr Frikkie Dairy, who drives the dairy lorry:

 

sonder oom Frikkie Dairy

 

sal die tee en koffie swart wees;

 

en geen smaak aan die mieliemeel;

 

ja dit sal brand in jou keel.

 

And in

Films he cries over the bioscope (“Bies”) of Oubaas which burned down:

 

Next week se sereal,

 

Me Tarzan You Jane

 

lê asvaal verbrand in die as en die pyn.

 

(Let op die woordspeling tussen

puin en pyn..)

 

Waar aasvoëls draai

 

(1996) is about his love for his family and his efforts to protect them

against the modern vultures. In the poem

Klein Hartedief he writes affectionately about the

arrival of his youngest daughter:

 

Jy het soos ’n dief in die nag gekom

 

versigtig eers loer, skelm-skelm

 

suutjies het jy jou voetjies

 

oor my drumpel gestoot.

 

In this volume he constantly makes the readers aware of the suffering and poverty of his

people:

 

Sewe honger kinders klop aan my deur

 

gee brood en vleis asb meneer

 

ek vra die oudste: is julle nie op skool?

 

hy wys my sy skoene sonder sool.

 

He also provides (in Kaleidoskoop) solutions how his people could escape from the poverty:

 

Huisnood

 

Al trek ek net met ’n tafel op my kop

 

In my munisipale huis

 

Dan het ek alreeds baie gedelf

 

Al die ander goed kom vanself

 

.

5

Phoenix (1996) is a volume about the struggle era in South Africa as it is written in

 

Apartheidsvloek,

 

among others, in which he struggles with God and asks questions like:

 

Was dit God se toorn?

 

vir hulle wat ons so vermink

 

ons kinders begrawe in hole stink

 

vir hulle wat ons inhok

 

ons kinders verkrag in ’n gommatrok.

 

He dedicates this volume to Mr John Beukes (Charles’ father) who was Chief Leader of the

Boy Scouts, and like a true Boy Scout this remarkable man showed us the way long before

1994. He describes the death of Mr Beukes as follows:

 

Die seer-uur sal vir ons aanbreek op Sy Tyd

 

die gemis aan ’n leiersfiguur wat nie meer daar is

 

sal met die aanstap van die tyd verdwyn

 

en so ook die pyn.

 

It is significant that Brown already started asking questions about the ruthless killing of our

rhinos back in 1996. In

Renoster he writes:

 

oor ’n asvaal stofverwaaide grysland

 

soek ’n renosterkind haar ma

 

in ’n gedroogde meer

 

het sy kom kry haar moeder se oorskiet

 

bebloed sonder ’n vlymskerp horing of snoet

 

His volume

Die Woudmaker (1998) depicts a struggle with his Creator and is about the curse

of having too many pigment cells, as Brown puts it. Poems like

Pigmentsel and Kleurgrens

 

are about the injustice of apartheid. Brown writes that love is colour-blind, and as we

contemplate this, a child is shot dead in Robertson. His advice is to Pray (

Bid), and

Remember God in your life (

Onthou God in jou lewe). He ends with Onrustige kinders van

 

God

 

, an indication that the Restless Child has not yet found his rest.

In

Kaleidoskoop the reader is exposed to Brown’s multitude of skills: there is an AIDS drama,

limericks, a short story, stories from his area, and my personal favourite – a few quatrains in

which he makes some social comments about life: He takes a swing at the establishment’s

literary fundis who do not utter a word in support of the struggle poets, of which he was one:

 

Waar is julle

 

O julle letterkundiges

 

is so oorverdowend stil

 

6

 

S-o-o oorverdowend aan het swyg

 

Is julle druipstert na jul gate aan het hyg?

 

He writes about his life for his wife, Gloria:

 

Toe ek geen verskuilde agenda aan jou kon vind

 

Het ek geweet ons liefde is vir altyd gebind

 

As sport administrator he also dishes it out to the Springboks:

 

Dit is die toets vóór die toets

 

Waar die bokke faal

 

Hul struikel oor rassisme

 

Terwyl hul na die doellyn nael

 

But his bitterness about the publishers’ refusal to acknowledge him threatens to dominate his

poetry:

 

Mense hou nie daarvan om

 

Woorde te lees wat kwel

 

Aan hul vel, dus, is ek tot vandag

 

Geen Uitgewer se pêl.

 

But then the chess master makes a brilliant move: When nobody wanted to publish his work,

he published it himself:

terwyl uitgewers soos tipiese blokhuise nog steeds net hul voorkeurskrywers publiseer, is

 

selfpubliseerders soos onderstromige wingerdboer produseerders wie se vrugte een of ander

 

tyd soet op die tong val

 

” (Kaleidoskoop, p41).

In a time when everyone is worried about the future of Afrikaans, it is unforgiveable that an

Afrikaans poet had to publish 24 volumes of poetry himself, that his work was published in

Belgium and The Netherlands, yet he is not acknowledged in his own country. He could have

turned his back on Afrikaans, like so many of his contemporaries who were born and bred in

Afrikaans, but he didn’t – thanks to a passion for Afrikaans, as exhibited in

Moedertaal:

 

Seun vergeet tog nooit jou eerste kontakwoord

 

diep uit jou moederlong

 

se vriendelik omgee tong

 

7

 

is die pêrel deur God geskenk

 

aan jou my kaalvoetklong

 

I would like to respond thus when he asks:

 

Hoe sal ek ’n digter word?

 

Hoe sal ek tog dan nou kan maak

 

Dat uitgewers ook van my ’n digter maak

 

Na wie sal ek my gedigte stuur

 

As ek my jare vasloop teen ’n loodreg muur

 

?

Boeta, you ARE a poet, and now that Adam Small’s voice is silent, you may just be the most

credible voice of the Afrikaans-speaking people from downtown.

8

 

ADDRESS BY FLORIS ABRAHAM BROWN

 

DURING HIS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AT THE

 

WOORDFEES VERSINDABA, PRESENTED BY THE

 

STIGTING VIR BEMAGTIGING DEUR AFRIKAANS

 

ON 24 SEPTEMBER 2011 AT STELLENBOSCH

 

© Floris Abraham Brown (63)

 

Born 10 September 1948

 

Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen

I would like to discard the word “reply” and bring my message under the heading “

Gratitude

 

towards God and my fellow-man

 

”.

I would also like to dedicate this day to my late parents, Johnny and Maggie Brown, as well as

my parents-in-law, Hendrik and Sophia Bailey.

When Gio Aplon, Springbok wing, scored his first two tries in World Cup rugby against

Namibia on Thursday 22 September 2011 he put his hands in the air and gave all the glory to

God. As a young man he sent a very powerful message to our youth.

This morning is a glorious day in the presence of GOD’s grace. Thank you, JESUS, for a day

like today – a day that belongs to You. All glory, praise and honour to You.

Thank you, Professor Dorethea and Wium van Zyl, Melt Myburgh and their colleagues from

the WOORDFEES VERSINDABA, as well as Nicol Stassen and Louis Esterhuyzen. Dorethea

is a strong woman. See how she’s been pulling AFRIKAANS up higher and higher over many

years.

Thank you, Dr Michael Le Cordeur and Charles Beukes – people of this calibre are difficult to

find. You can read about them on the Internet.

 

CJ Langenhoven said:

 

“Stuur die luiaard na die miere, en hy sal daar rondom die miere lê en hy sal hom verlustig in

die vlyt en bedrywigheid wat aan die gang is. Want hy hou van werk – die luiaard: solank as

dit nie hy is wat werk nie.” (Weet nie of ek kan waag om Langenhoven te vertaal nie.)

A big word of thanks and appreciation to the Executive Officer, Dr Christo van der Rheede,

and his colleagues from the STIGTING VIR BEMAGTIGING DEUR AFRIKAANS, who came

upon the thought of acknowledging me after 40 years of writing passionate poetry, and who

made a day like today extra special.

 

Plato said: “With the first touch of love, each person becomes a poet.”

 

9

A special word of thanks to my wife – my first touch of love – Gloria, and our children:

Rumacques Zane, one of three managers at Shoprite Centurion, Gauteng; Dr Natasja,

married to Arrie-Paul Arends of Klerksdorp – both working at the University of Stellenbosch.

Natasja is currently working in the office of the Dean and Arrie is a lecturer in the

Biochemistry Department; Rhaändi, married to Mark Rensburg of Manenberg – they have

produced three lovely grandchildren for us – Nathanael-Mark, Maliika and Esthbeth – Jane.

Then there is our youngest daughter Glireska and her friend Bronwyn. Glireska is a proof

reader at Pioneer Printers in Worcester.

Gloria, I thank you for 40 years of support and the room to also provide a service to other

communities in South Africa.

It has been a privilege to spread my poetic wings to countries like

The Netherlands, with

anchors in Dr Alfred Schaffer; Mary Vlaming; Gerrit Komrij; Stadsdichter Joz & Tiny

Brummans – who co-published “Die Hand wat ons Voed is Weg” with me and with whom I

lodged during my stay in The Netherlands from 28 May to 23 June 2007; Rinze & Christien

Starkenburgh; Tiny Kraan; Professor Karel Bostoen; John Zwart; Loes Essen; Catharina

Loader; Corine de Maijer; Daan de Lange; Freek Leene; Marcel Linssen; Marlies Mertens;

Marja Verweij; Veronie Kramer Snyders; Yolanda & Ton Greuters; José Overkamp; Marjan

Hengeveld; Piet Luijer; Inneke Hamstra; Agaath Schultink; Lydi & Joop Krikke; Hemmie van

Reenen; Jesse Vermunt; Petra de Dreu; Petro Drijfhout; Peter van Halderen; Bramm & Uta

van der Wurff; Janneke Prins who co-published “Altyd die Liefde” with me. The Dutch

Ambassador and his wife, Rob & Marion de Vos, as well as Hilde Vaatstra who brightened up

our volume “Drieluik” with lovely photos.

 

Belgium

 

– Jan Biezen from Biezen who published my very first Afrikaans poem “Madalla”;

Hannie Rouweler who took a selection of 39 poems from my English publication “You and

your Grand Piano” and published it in “Blue Ribbons” through her publishing house Demer

Press; Joris Iven; Roger Nupie; Guy van Hoof; Paul Gellings and Hannie Rouweler, who each

gave five poems which I translated from Dutch into Afrikaans for the anthology “Liaisons

Invisibles – Onzichtbare Verbintenissen – Onsigbare Verbintenis, which was released by the

National Afrikaans Literary Museum in Bloemfontein on Tuesday 12 July 2011 during the

Vryfees in Bloemfontein under the guidance of Otto & Danila Liebenberg.

Rob and Marion de Vos were also at the Vryfees, so Marion could read the Dutch poems and

I could read the Afrikaans poems. “Heartscapes”, published by Hannie Rouweler Demer

Press was released at the same time.

 

Flanders

 

– Prof Dr W J R Martin;

 

Friesland

 

– Jan Kleefstra, who co-published “Sing vir My” and “Uit het legen Midde” with the

help of Jelma Knol, editor of the Frisian Press Boekerij in Friesland. This has been for sale at

the Woordfees of the University of Stellenbosch Versindaba of 2011.

 

England

 

– Margo Opperman;

 

America

 

– Dr Jacques du Plessis;

 

Charles Olsen says: “Poetry is to dance while seated.”

 

10

Thank you to my

light-the-candle people: Prof Jakes Gerwel & Dr Rassool, my Afrikaans

and English lecturers at the former Teachers’ Training College HEWAT; the influence of our

own Mayor of Stellenbosch, Conrad Sidego, who has had a profound influence on me as a

young student at HEWAT. The late Professor Ronnie Belscher; the late Rev Patrick

Petersen; Prof Flip Strydom, Project Leader of the SBA and my colleagues Willem Fransman

– drama; Elias Nel – Short stories – and Rev Eugene B, who, together with myself who did

the Poetry, wrote publications we presented at workshops for high schools until funding dried

up and the project had to be terminated.

 

Thank you to the Holy influence

 

of Sister Joe; Miss van Stavel; Dr Easter Daniel Gordon

and spouse; Miss Dorothy Gordon and spouse, as well as Pastors; Fred & Lucille May;

Rumacques Brown; William Coraizen; Sias le Roux and spouse; Hercules & Melanie; Carlos

& Elmaree; Hennie & Rochelle Swarts; Small groups and prayer team members of all Shofar

Family Christian Churches in South Africa and abroad – especially Ps Albert & Nancy Titus

and their children.

 

Thank you to my sounding-boards:

 

Antjie Krog, Christine Gerber, Otto Liebenberg and Arrie-Paul Arends who have kept me

standing as a poet over the years.

 

Under the poetic influence of

 

Prof Jacques van der Elst; Prof Abram de Vries; Prof John C.

Kannemeyer; Prof André Brink; Prof Ampie Coetzee; Prof Steward van Wyk; Breyten

Breytenbach; Theo Kemp – Breytenbach Centre, Wellington; Leon Vorster – Museum

Services, Cape Town; Amanda de Stadler; Dr Daniël Hugo; Prof Lina Spies; Louis

Esterhuysen; Margot Luyt; Anlo van Heerden; Mr Freddie Botha (CEO), colleagues and all

individuals from the Institute for the Blind; Johan Heyl; Brett Pyper (KKNK); Mia Breed who

filmed a chess insert of me for KYKNET; Anthony Wilson wdo did an insert for TV2 about my

life and the bomb explosion at Shoprite in 1996; Melvyn Whitebooi; Francois Marais;

Catherine Wiese; Julian Jansen; Prof Hein Willemse; Marion and Rob de Vos, the

Ambassador of The Netherlands and his wife; Dr Gerrit Brand; Naomi Bruwer; Leti Klein;

Celia Celliers; Miss Schroëder from TV3; Freek Robinson – FOKUS; Mandy Barnard from

Pasella; Prof Ronel de Goede; Claude Schroeder; Dr Deon Snyman; Kayode; Christine Smit;

Laurentia Robertson; Liomee van der Merwe; Seymore Bothman; Anette Braaff; Eurica

Muller; Sylvia Fourie; Shirley and Sandra Fransman; Alet and Jose Ontong; Deon Pick and

spouse; Catherine Francke and spouse; Johnny and Kayna Kruger; Linda and Lennie Cloete;

Vaughan Karriem and spouse; Clifton Frolick and colleagues from the local EMDC; Steenvliet

Primary School, Touwsriver; Breërivier High School and Dr Allen Grootboom; Tizzy Mangialli;

Bongani Mgijima and Beverley Thomas; Former President FW de Klerk,

I can still learn a lot

 

today.

 

All editors of publishing companies in South Africa and abroad; Thank you to all the umbrella

bodies that are keeping AFRIKAANS alive, as well as Zirkëa Ellis, Eurika Barnard; Hannetjie

du Preez; Derrick Grootboom; Prof Fanie Olivier, who has regularly invited me over the past

40 years to send one or more poems for publication in some or other anthology; Dr Danny

Titus from the ATKV; Dr Karel Prinsloo; Florence Filton; Petro Rhode; Isabeau Botha;

Marlene Le Roux; Jason Lloyd; Selwynn Willborrow; Ruben Bentley; Robert Pearce; Vincent

Oliphant; Diana Ferrus; Dido; Trevor Isaacs; Adrianne Sameuls; André van Reenen; Adv.

11

Maxwell Solomons; Adv. Lynden Bouah; Fasiegh Manie; Shabier Bhawodien; Roland

Willenberg; Anton Marais; André & Sonja Truter; Malcolm Fredericks; Mark Lewis; Karel

Cupido; Raymond Aukett; Anne Fredericks; Dr Joan Wootton; Elmarie van Aarde; Abey

Arendse (Abbangs).

 

Teachers’ Training College HEWAT: Crawford, Cape Town:

 

Former lecturers Greg & Esmeralda Voight. In 1996 Greg Voight gave his 15 HED lll students

in Afrikaans the assignment concerning my volume “GLOEI.” This work was published under

the title “GLOEI – HANDLEIDING”. By doing this, a small part of HEWAT Teachers’ Training

College in Cape Town lives on despite the fact that it does not exist any more.

Thank you for publications and articles in the Worcester Standard, Die Burger, Rapport, Die

Beeld, Gazette and Die Son over many years. A word of thanks and appreciation also goes to

publications in magazines and newspapers of many Afrikaans and Dutch umbrella bodies.

 

“Be there, be on time”

 

I am of the opinion that if we can apply this motto, one of the many keys to success, to our

daily lives, we can build a better South Africa. If this slogan can appear on every door and

toddlers say it out loud before the start of each lesson, no-one will ever be late for a speech or

appointment, not even the politicians in Parliament! It builds character and breeds faith in

others. People start believing in each other, because that person is trustworthy.

Today each one of these mentioned individuals represents vine-shoots enfolding my

grapevine, keeping it alive and prosperous, and by God’s grace I am harvesting the fruit

today, the sweetest fruit, in AFRIKAANS!

 

C. J. Langenhoven said:

 

“As ek die begeerte mog waag, sou ek dit graag so wil hê dat die

engel wat my kom haal huis toe, my daar bring met die verslag: ‘Ek het hom by sy werk

gekry’.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, I close with an Italian sonnet for every person who has chosen to live

AFRIKAANS in South Africa or anywhere in the world.

 

Voorlopers vir AFRIKAANS

 

© Floris Brown

 

Soos ‘n spierwit paddastoel, kernbom

 

Moedertaal. Pronk met vlerke soos ‘n pou

 

as skrywers briewe in koeverte vou.

 

Afpraters doemprofete staar verstom.

 

12

 

Professore Doktore Rektore

 

Lektore Dosente Onderwysers

 

Studente Leerders bly rigtingwysers.

 

Proteas nagelaat in hul spore.

 

Hoër al hoër trek ons haar bergop.

 

Woordkunstenaars fasiliteerders krans

 

Springbokke. Stewige vesting met skop.

 

Ons taal nou lente met ‘n speelse dans.

 

In die reën met ‘n woeste hartklop,

 

bly Miere, Voorlopers vir AFRIKAANS!

 

Thank you very much!

 

13

BLUE RIBBONS (Poetry book by Floris Brown published in Belgium – by Demer Press)

Paperback, 56 pages               

*****

(1 Rating)

Blue Ribbons
Price: $18.74
Ships in 3–5 business days               

 
 
 
                New poems by Floris Brown, South Africa. Floris Brown is professionally a Computer Trainer for Blind Adults -Tourguide at Institute for the Blind in South Africa. FLORIS ABRAHAM BROWN was born on the 10th September 1948 in Parker Street Worcester South Africa. He already published 24 poetry books and poems in more than 73 anthologies. He performed his poetry on a.o. TV-SABC-2, TV-PASELLA, TV-FOKUS, Radio Station RSG, Voice of the Cape – Moslem Radio Station, Radio Station Valley fm 88.8 Worcester. He also performed at festivals in Stellenbosch – Woordfees, KKNK, Suidoosterfees, Passaatwindefees, Chainouquafees, and toured in the Netherlands in 2007 performing in a.o. Amsterdam, Boxtel, Harderwijk and Nijmegen. He compiled four anthologies for the Breede Vallei Dichters in Worcester and included poets from the Netherlands.                                           

BLUE RIBBONS (Poetry book by Floris Brown published in Belgium – by Demer Press)

Paperback, 56 pages               

*****

(1 Rating)

Blue Ribbons
Price: $18.74
Ships in 3–5 business days               

 
 
 
                New poems by Floris Brown, South Africa. Floris Brown is professionally a Computer Trainer for Blind Adults -Tourguide at Institute for the Blind in South Africa. FLORIS ABRAHAM BROWN was born on the 10th September 1948 in Parker Street Worcester South Africa. He already published 24 poetry books and poems in more than 73 anthologies. He performed his poetry on a.o. TV-SABC-2, TV-PASELLA, TV-FOKUS, Radio Station RSG, Voice of the Cape – Moslem Radio Station, Radio Station Valley fm 88.8 Worcester. He also performed at festivals in Stellenbosch – Woordfees, KKNK, Suidoosterfees, Passaatwindefees, Chainouquafees, and toured in the Netherlands in 2007 performing in a.o. Amsterdam, Boxtel, Harderwijk and Nijmegen. He compiled four anthologies for the Breede Vallei Dichters in Worcester and included poets from the Netherlands.                                           

10 Poems to enjoy and share

Tamed horse

(In honour of Old President Nelson Mandela

who conquered apartheid Africa and the world)

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

Dark horse

wild horse

thou fury gone with the ages

once like a fiery orb

your silhouette on the horizon

almighty showed

now, no more …

behold thou thorny heart

with craze in your head

no horseman could tame thee

now you are old

You bastard!

You master of speed!

Strike at me now!

You fool!

Come on, hurt me!!

Where are thou fury now?

Knock my brains in,

like you have done to so many

mad hunters before

long I have been waiting for this

your pride,

shattered through my patience

come on Caesar

come on Brutus

let me lead thee

to my waterhole …

drink tamed horse

drink ’till you

drink no more …

Waiting for that special knock on my door

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

I can show you

Buckets and buckets full of tears

I’ve shed over you when

Our love affair exploded in the air

I can show you

Angry words I’ve carved

Out on my bedroom walls

Making it cry with red paint drippings

I can show you

Burnt letters piles and piles

In boxes hiding my pride

Never to reach you by post

I can show you

My hair locks as souvenirs

Show pieces on my dressing table

To spite, never to be touched again

What you’ll never see

Is the burning flame of love

That’s still longing after you

What you’ll never see

Is your name perforated

In the centre of my heart

I am still dying over you

Crawling all over the floor

Crying over you

Waiting waiting waiting waiting

for thát special knock on my door …

Passion-eyes

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

Two store’s high

there’s an eye

always following

I can feel passion-eyes

taking hold of my aura

I feel it

there’s movement behind

your curtains

but your face never shows

This morning as I walked to work

I saw your face for the first time

calling …

this afternoon as I walked home

I saw you waving

passion-eyes calling

come down, Angel face

make our hearts talk

make me swim in your

passion-eyes

passion-eyes

make me swim …

As you please

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

I will always wait for you

like a wolf

shy

at a distance stays

before it grabs or bites

at a distance stay ‘till you

give a sign to take

if you say “Freeze!”

I will freeze

always staying around you

with bleary eyes always seeking

around you

until you’re ready

growling

at a distance

I will dance

or call,

on top of a skew moonlight cliff

I am seeking after you

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

I am seeking after you

in the shine of a double rainbow after rain

I am seeking after you

in the chaos of the white-ant before the storm

I am seeking after you

in the whirl-twist of autumn leaves in the wind

I am seeking after you

amongst fairies who only dance in fairytales

I am seeking after you

in bells hanging high on a silvery moon

I am seeking after you

in the neon-green glow on midnight waves

as I’m closing my farm gate very depressed

a black crow came flying with your letter in it’s beak

In the softness of your heart

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

The softness of your heart

has come to sit on my face

the very moment we met

the love in your smile

brought a glow to your eyes

the moment when we hug

and fiercely cuddle and kiss

too long cuddle and kiss that

we both very much confused yet

pleasingly break away from each other

in a mutual dizziness that we both

are still into each other for each other …

The night came playing in our love

I, in the softness of your heart

On the dregs of the well

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

Now that the night

has walked and lies empty

above silence

I’m sitting matchstick alone

in my front room

in darkness

I don’t know

hither or

thither

because you’re gone …

I cannot decide

whether I should go to bed

because of what’s there waiting

only the one look

into the break

of a new day and then comes

the moon, the sun

and another moon and a sun

a moon, moon, moon…

on the dregs of the well

I’m sitting waiting

and you don’t come anymore …

You dressed me in purple

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

In my grim loneliness

I also want to love

touch you

feeling with passion

the curves of your face

until I have my picture

of how I think you

might look

your voice, your warm

presence

your smell, your footstep

your laughter, is all I have

to hold on to

to know

you are mine

your explosions of fury

your intolerable manner

of screaming at me

no patience venom

the purple dress you always

clothed me with

as doctors told

dimmed my light yesterday

like the branches of a willow tree

your dark side

hovered over me

clothed me enfolded me

and I wanted to elope

away from the dark side in you

then you give me your shoulder …

I might walk myself bruised

against a motor car

I might even fall from a mountain cliff

but I who knows what darkness is

would rather cling longer

to that which is mine

your light, in my darkness …

Being slaughtered on your altar

©Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

In the stillness of you

being around me

your fragrance of love

filling our room

I knew tonight I am

going to be slaughtered

on your altar

lying in bed

waiting in anticipation

I hear a knock on our

front door

“I am getting it!” you screamed

then … b-a-n-g!

as I rushed to open the curtains

I just caught a glimpse of you two

spinning off in his red Ferrari

oh baby, oh my beautiful Angel

once again, you slaughtered me

in someone else’s car

Invisible children of the dark

© Mr Floris Brown –

 

florisbrown@mweb.co.za

invisible children behind the scenes

invisible children we do not see

schemes of the War Lords

the Drug Lords The Untouchables

ruling the traffic world where

no saint dares to tread

we hear children screaming

in our dreams

we stare numbed at video

footages of little helpless

children drilling like zombies

at the evil eye’s commands

we scream unto GOD for help

while Satan’s Dragons “Yum – yum”

little children – small little tiny

teeny-tots their future

smashed in gang “Yum – yum”

thank you GOD for those

who are taking them on

the brave ones our heroes

who are making waves for

invisible children of the dark …

Worcesteriete – Worcesterians

Worcesteriete

© Floris Brown

So het ons gekom tot by hierdie punt

waar ons elkeen met ‘n groot goiingsak

ons verlede kom uitstrooi in die wind

kulture respekteer, probleme pak

Worcesteriete wat ‘n verskil wil maak

steek hande op loof prys jubel en juig

hul maak die sirkel groter vir SY taak

as hul vroegmôre voor GOD die knie buig

met die verlede deel ons saggies mee

werk aan ‘n toekoms vir ons nageslag

veilige vestings bou ons tree vir tree

want môre bly ‘n onvoorsiene dag

Help die pynlike les, genees deur die

Worcester Hoop en Rekonsiliasie Proses

 

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

 

Worcesterians

© Floris Brown

Now we’ve come to this point thus far

where all of us came with a huge hessian bag

and scatter our past into the wind

respecting cultures tackling problems

Worcesterians who wants to make a difference

put their hands up worship praise jubilate and shout

they’re making the circle bigger for HIS task

bending their knees early morning before GOD

We are dealing with the past, very gently

working on a future for future generations

building safe havens step by step

because tomorrow remains unforeseen

Help healing the lessons of pain through the

Worcester Hope en Reconciliation Process