PATHOS

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(Illustration by Rien Poortvliet)

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There is something poetic
about my death
Something outrageously beautiful
about my very last breath.


Audaciously sad,
this longing to grieve
my own pain
rejoicing at the thought of others
mourning in vain.

I am curious
about this suffering
I and they
will have to endure.



But to draw any conclusions
at this stage
would be premature.

OUR EYES

Our eyes
tell the happiness we share
when they smile together.
And I can feel you feel
my smile is brighter
when you are there.

THE SKY IS THE LIMIT

Yes, my house
is falling apart.
They said it was unwise
to stay inside
but I don’t consider myself
that smart...

Besides,
where else
am I going to fall sleep
whilst watching the stars?
Why should I come
down to Earth
when I can live in Mars?

Others see curtains,
stained glass
and sorrow
when they gaze at their windows
from the outside.
But I see infinity
in shades of blue
I am happy and free
When I come home to you.

A SHADOW

(Beautiful drawing by Rien Poortvliet)




Who's there?
What do you want?
The morning mist
confuses my eyes.

How do I know
In this strange light
Whether you're friend
or foe,
whether you've come to help
or fight?

Cute and helpless

Cute little helpless creatures, we say.
And we tend to forget that we, also,
In our own complicated way,
may not be exactly cute
but are definitely as helpless, today,
as when science and religion were mute.

Damp feelings

(watercolour by Rien Poortvliet)


The rain has come down upon the earth
And turned my home into a dirty pool.
The world is now a sad, smelly place
The grey clouds seem to me so cruel.

I look around and sigh, feeling vaguely sick
The ground is soft, but treacherous and cold,
Is this a plot against me? Who played this dirty trick?
My strength is gone, I must have grown old.

WORDLESSNESS

Not that I am not thinking
Not that life is passing me by
Not that I don’t want to share
Things that make me smile and cry


But I have come down
With a strange illness
My tired brain is dumb
In a kind of verbal stillness


I think and feel it all,
From excitement to sadness
But I can’t seem to express it
I’ve been struck by wordlessness.

Restlessness

Restless, restless,

My heart runs along,
while my soul finds no song to sing.

Restless, restless,
My heart runs on,
Not knowing it has a broken wing.

Faster, forward,
Sometimes looking back,
Tripping over stones of loss and sorrow,
Humming to itself, carrying the weight
Of the grudge against my soul
Who finds no song and no reason
To run along with him.
(She knows she has no wings...)

Restless, restless,
He sings. But his song lacks
The power and the grace
To make him fly

And so he must die.
(1995)

TIMEFRAME

Maybe if I put a frame
around this moment
Time will stop.
Maybe if I sit still
If I don’t talk
Things will stay the same.

Maybe if shut my eyes
You’ll be here

Maybe in disguise
You can come near.

MISGROWN

How can you tell
that you’re grown up?
Do you one day
simply wake up
and say
that’s it,
no more dolls for me?

Do you start wearing heels
and being sexy?
And making up
And making out?

And what if you never
- throughout your life -
find out what growing
is all about?

GENTLE BIRD

Gentle bird,
Please bring me down to earth!
Flying so high
With you
Is a dream
Come true;
But I am dizzy now,
My lover awaits me,
I’ve been gone too long.

So bring me back
From the sky
Down to light grey
From bright blue.

Literal happiness

We read and write
day and night,
we communicate
with each other
and ourselves.
Book upon book,
our lives
are gathered
on our shelves.

The words we bear
and bring to light,
the dreams we share,
the wrongs made right
all seem to have one purpose,
at least to me:
to make us feel alive
and close together
to make us both feel happy
and free.

Lost in thought

I could be mistaken
I could be foolish or crazy
I could be wise, maybe,
Or simply lazy


But I would love to get lost
inside your head.

The wise and the wild

I feel wild
when I go against the flow
to be me...
I feel irrationally free.

But you seem wise
when you do the same;
You don’t seem to get burned
By the flame.

Wisdom, my friend,
Is your valuable shield.
But I hope that,
When I come near,
You will yield.

SOUL MATES

There’s an inexplicable
Incredible
Ineffable
feeling
Inside.

I feel like the sand
being constantly
smoothly
lovingly
bathed
by the tide.

It is all in my head,
you say,
and I know,
but, my dear friend,
even so,
I’d rather
rejoice with a fulfilling dream
than achieve a wise,
frustrating thought.

HAND IN HAND

Ours
is the joy
Ours
the grief
Ours the dream
and the belief.

Ours to split
Ours to share
Ours forever
Here and there.

EASY

It would have been so easy
just lying there, gazing
at the different hues
of the greens
and the browns
and the blues...

Oh, life would be so easy
If only I could choose.

BY THE SHORE

Out there, by the shore,
There’s an infinity of paths
For us to explore.

Out there we shall walk
We shall wander, hands entwined,
And we don’t need to talk.

I want to take you there
Kiss you there
and tell you,
with our bare feet
buried in the sand,
That I can be your best lover
as well as your best friend.

THE FOOLISH WISE POET AND MY GRANDPARENTS

They are not fools,
as Larkin said.
They are just fading
withering slowly
and perhaps,
yes,
going slightly mad.


They have come to a point
when their minds alone
can help them forget
what’s become of them
and, worse,
what’s coming!...
but they’re not fools
made of skin and bone.


You’re right, though,
“we shall find out”
But you,
old fool,
you’re already just the shadow
of a doubt.