zaterdag 5 augustus 2017

5th of August 2017

bullet proof bullet proof I drink from the cup of truth to save me
He is standing on the stage and sings
To erase me
Along the edge of the mountains the grey claws of clouds
Threatening the other sides mood
I don't wanna clap I don't wanna meet you
You are the one who deceives
You are the one who irritates me the most
In this country
I wish to climb the edge of the hill
To use my body to feel to sense
I only know who I am when I use my body
Random daydreams dissolve
Drink the passion fruit wine


dinsdag 27 juni 2017

26th October 2016

It is like he drank a juice of the finest berries
The liquid that dissolves the wrinkles that had left him thinking
Deep red sour taste that leaves stains on your tongue
Yesterday the dog was crying
Loud and long
I kept wondering in my mind
How I could comfort her
Stroke her skin with berry stains of my tongue
While we undress
Naked by the light of the moon
I want to grab those berries

Berries that will bring me back in time

dinsdag 13 juni 2017

13th of June

we walked together
I knew something was on your mind
2 bottles of rum
I smoked a cigarette 
while other men stared at me
I smoked alone you made a phonecall
I like to spend time with you

I remember we
went to search for a cave
I navigated on my memory  
on a flat rock litten by moon light we rested
I had been there with someone with a different name
I did not observe 
you knew

I drunk 
To be drunk
To tell more about my past
Lingering on
Sweeping behind me 

When we walked together
Under the carresing moonlight
Sweeping behind me
The shadows on the yellow thick grass
The thorns ripping and scratching my legs
I don't care I like pain I said
'I knew you like plants'
secrets grew out of the hole of your body 
She 
secrets you did not share with anybody else


I also thought that I must have been overwhelmingly 
Present 
in this empty field
Under the stars
Empty bottles were thrown
Secrets spilled
Sealed off 
On the road
Back to the hostel

Should I write it all down?






13th June 2017



I follow the path 2 hours later than you
I wonder if you are there in the space
With old streetlights on a balcony overlooking
The space
You appear in the pictures on the wall
With a smiling face
The other people don't remind me of something

Each time we meet I wonder what to say
Suggesting a cup of tea
I also know it does not matter
The words we waste
The time that is spend
The months have gone by

Still every day at the same time
I wonder if you walk on that path
Along the roots of the trees and the
Barely visible black water
It is part of a routine that soon will be over

Sometimes I open the door to see you there
Sometimes I open it and your not there
I feel blank being reduced to this experience
My blue feet stopped my routine
It keeps me company now
Instead of the words wasted
The nightly walks in circles
The time has chased
The hot air
You have to write

dinsdag 5 juli 2016

19 June 2016

From the window view

The woman is weaving

The sound of weaving

The sound of building

East Europian music plays from the speakers

The purple lotus in the pond

Reflection of the grey sky

Reflection of the grey sky my mind

The window view displaying daily live

A woman walked on the road

The man sat in the chair

The boy touches his hair

Weaving is like love

The thread her fingers

Movement machine

Act of making love

Reflecting the grey rainy sky

I feel unable to move because of you

My tea cup fell down tea spread in a pool on the floor

I try to dry it

Reflection of the grey mood

Today I will leave, its dusty


Clouds drift in my head

18 June 2016

Not understanding my mood

I am not in the mood to dance

He dances his movements elegant and sophisticated

His voice balances like movement of a small water stream

Again a feeling of confusion

When he kisses me I taste bitterness

It overtakes my mind

I surrender and want to taste him bitter again

But instead he dances

With her

With them

I am not able to move anymore my head feels like a stone

We would go to the marker

To find a blouse for my grandmother

I don’t want to complain

Dancing and movement is an expression of an early drop in the morning raining

Swirling movement his hair the morning dauw

The sound of a hammer

You have taken the forbidden path

The path that knowone takes

The morning dauw

Unfold me purple lotus