Poem -- I NEVER EVER COMPLAIN

 I NEVER EVER COMPLAIN

I wake up in the morning, it's dark and miserable outside
Where are my glasses, last night they were this side,
I'll swear by all that's Holy it's where I left them last night.
Well said my husband I can see them, clear and bright,
They're sitting on your forehead, where they have been all night.

I can't find my hearing aid or my dental plates
What's has happened to my slippers I'm going to be late.
Please help me find my appointment book and tell me the date
I think Id better stay in bed, I'm getting in a state.

Ma, shouts my eldest son, there a man on the phone, for you.
Please take a message, I'm never going to get through.
I still have to have my shower, Ill bet the water won't be hot,
The window is wide open, the floor is soapy wet.
I'll settle for the flu, or do you guys want me dead.

I don't know why I can't find my keys, where can they be
I'm going into Town, I need my ID, Oy Vay I need my purse.
Every second I'm around here matters, seem to get worse..
Your keys are on the sideboard, they all  shout at me.
You don't have to worry, your appointment's for three.

I relax and ponder, why they all ganged up against me.
They complain they at I never put things, where they ought to be,
And they complain that they always have to look,
From morning till night the missing Newspapers, Lipsticks, or Book
The diatribe is giving me lots and lots of pain.
They don't seem to understand that I never complain.




by Hillie Feldman.   7th January 2003

Poem - The Dancing Kite

 The Dancing Kite
                              for Barry 

They made a kite 
that really flew.
Eyes fill with
Sheer delight.

In all my days 
I never knew
So wondrous 
Happy a sight

With dowel sticks , string 
And paper bright
Much chatter in between.

With balance string 
and pretty tail 
They launched this flying thing.

For many an hour 
that summers day
Way high up in the sky

That kite did dance 
a merry dance.
Weaving happily at its play.

Somewhere up there  
it's flying still 
Among the satellites.

A merry thing 
A wondrous thing 
My sonny's dancing kite.


by Hillie Feldman, undated written on Kibbutz Yizreel

Poem - EGOLI JUGGERNAUTS

EGOLI JUGGERNAUTS

Egoli buses -- Juggernauts of the tarmac
Scattering small fry far and wide
Speeding bus loads of black-
commuters - from city to country side.

Filled to the doorways, strap hanging passengers
Headed for Alex; northwards they ride
Work-weary, exhausted some of them snoozing
A frozen conglomerate thawing inside.

Smoke trails fogging following wagons
Cars and bikes rush, left and right
Grinding through traffic, snorting dragons
Louis raceways--- blazing with light.

No cowhide drums, shields or sjambock
amongst the buses weary flock,
long eschewed by these fashion sophisticates
robed in Western suits and frock.

Open the bridge into the terminus
 red-eyed dragons roar to a stop
old and young, loud, articulate
People pour like peas from a pod.

Ebony river-like blacks, stream through the station
sensing scents and firs of home
Through ill-lit streets and gathering darkness
Speeding on homeward through the gloam.

Back at the bus stop green juggernauts are loading,
Folk off to friends, shebeens or to shop
Wide awake, ready for an evenings of freedom
"All aboard, grab a strap Egoli first stop.

by Hillie Feldman  July1982 in Johannesburg

Poem - TREE TOP TOILET

TREE TOP TOILET

have you ever noticed 

that birds who twitter

amongst the litter

Do their shitting 

while sitting 

in the 

treetops 

I offer my splattered hat as proof.

by Hillie Feldman undated

Poem - Skin and bones

         Skin and bones


The temperature reached 42 degrees today
so I took off my skin and sat in my bones
the wind blew cool through my ribs
and every organ perked up
         the cooler tempertures.

The sun sank slowly toward the west
feeling too cool I dressed again
skin first and then my shorts
Descent in hte eye of the law
I wend my way homeward.

by Hillie Feldman, 21st Oct 1996

Poem- What If (good thought)

What If  ?

What if you lay on you back,
And did not give a damn about,
What happened to the world,
While you burned up with frustration.

Day after day the War goes on
That's been on the go for 102 years
And looks like it's never going to end
And never enough tears can be shed.

A never ending line of young men and girls
Stretching through the pages of history
Head for killing fields and take part
In the on going game of kill or be killed.

Israel wants Peace,  we hear that they do too
Only if Israel will agree to remove them selves
To anyplace barring the Middle East,
Then they will give us eternal Peace
And take all the land in exchange.

by Hillie Feldman  20 October 2003

Poem - THE MOBILES

THE  MOBILES 

They come they go,
They flit about.
The laugh they cry,
They scream out loud
     The Mobiles

In my own quiet way
I hear them say
Were here today
But not to stay
     The Mobiles

The rushing winds,
The racing tides,
The shaking earth,
The lowering skies
     The Mobiles

The stage is set
For great events.
The stage itself
is only lent, to
     The Mobiles

They play their parts,
They make their bow,
The curtain drops.
 They've passed us now
      The Mobiles

The passing show
Is passed and gone
The caravans have rolled along
Headed for some distant throng
     The Mobiles

The passing years
Have shed their tears.
The masks of traji-comedy leer
Doddering age - full of fear
No longer mobile
No longer mobile

by Hillie Feldman  undated.

Poem - COOKS- HILL COTTAGE

 COOKS- HILL COTTAGE

At Cooks -Hill Cottage
 the wind blows warm
on any fine summers day
whispering to the mulberry leaves
in  a friendly kind of way.

Blowing through the hedges high
chasing sheep-clouds in the sky
up and down the orchard playing
finches, sparrows, ruffling, swaying.

Apples, lemons cherries cheer
now the friendly warm winds here
'cause soon behind will come the rain
to speed the fruit to grow again.

Apricot plums and locquats too
know a bumper harvest's due
so do little ones - Sol and Sue
cause they' ll be first in our fruit queue.

At Cooks -Hill Cottage
 the wind blows warm
on any fine summers day
running-laughing-chattering children
Happiness blown our way.

by Hillie Feldman, October  1980 Johannesburg

Poem The Maryland

The Maryland

Twas dawn, in the rolling sea
A gallant ship was riding free
Riding the waves like a daring steed
Away she went with wondrous speed.

Before the sun was very high
Ship sail and sea met distant sky
Then soon o'er the horizon bent
White sail in seeming steep descent.

Headed for some distant port
to fill her holds with spice
Turning once again to sport
With sun and sea and ice.

Many moons later I did see
 my gallant ship so wild and free
Returning laden safe to me
from o'er the waves of the cold cruel sea.

Once again in sweet content
in harbour she did ride
Her anchor down her cargo sent
to places far and wide.

For those of thee who'd like to see
a ship so fair and grand
When next you be , down at the sea
Look out for the Maryland.

by Hillie Feldman,  1 June 1960

Poem- Life is for the living

Life is for the living

The world is full of pain and suffering
hunger disease and fear
so many deaf and blind to cries for help
who pretend to be unaware

Life is for the living
so live it as you must
better to be highly activated
than just a pile of dust.

If you live for yourself alone
you are likely to be awfully bored
but living your life for others
you will live your life like a Lord.

For you will make a million friends
Never a dull moment in your life
cause everyone loves a caring friend
to help them through their daily strife.

You'll get back far more than you give
for life has an amazing way
of granting true happiness and peace
to those who help out the lame and stray.

Poem- My Dreams for Tomorrow

My Dreams for Tomorrow

I'll dream my dreams for Tomorrow
a fabulous new dream for  each day
Where we cast our fear and sorrow
hear laughter of our children at play.

Arab Jews and Christians together
Mixing in our modern Schools
All equally treated , all with he love needed
All free to grow as they should.

Knives and Guns will lie rusting , forgotten
With no longer a part to play
In my dreams we will all live together
Not hatred but love, will lead the way.

To my hopes for a far far better Tomorrow
In place of murder rape and war
To a time and place, all mix and mingle
Truth  Love  and  Peace  Evermore.

by Hillie Feldman   5th July 1998

Poem - POETIC PAINTING

 POETIC PAINTING

A riot of color a joy to see.

The Green of the grass, the blossomed tree.

The last of the daffodils, gold cups exposed. 

      Scarlet bougainvillea, full white rose.

A painter’s palette, sheer ecstasy.

The many colored-bushed, spreading sweet pea

Scented Brunsfelsia, mauve, lavender, and white.

      Perfuming the air, fragrant and bright.

A symphony of bird song, each September morn.

Feathered friends, cooing doves, greeting the dawn.

Gentle winds whispering to grass, bird and tree.

      Completing the picture of nature’s symmetry.

  by Hillie Feldman     September 1982,  South Africa