Some of my poetry
By the Sea Shore
Today the sea is insidiously still, yet
A grating current of restlessness
Stirs passionately the realm, that
Neptune’s kingdom underneath.
Hear the seagulls call to dreams,
Salty air and long arrows of spray
As the sea meets rock-fists of land
Listen, you hear the water-earth fray
And the to and fro of peddles and sand
As waves heave and cease, again begin
With timid, yet now cadence more quick
To bring the quivering song of sadness in.
This tempest of a sea I cannot ever tame
Swirling, slashing and slushing of many a wave
Rocking, shocking the boat as a game, but
There is a place on my shore you may crave
Where raging sound and silence will meet
Here we can listen and find rapturous retreat.
Come, be there, and here let us be loving.
Emerging from the slumbering silence,
A wave wishing the shifting sand, breaks
Upon your fleeting footprint, a frozen
Movement of your staying presence, also
Caught in my gossamer of memory.
How our undying longing streams as
Rivers do towards that grand meeting, where
Our false selves flow into deeper waters.
For my memory of you is but a lit illusion
Adorned with flowering heartfelt feelings
Blind to the lineaments of your fierce face.
Easy it is to forget, how
The reality of our belonging
Is untamed to what we crave
Striking our forlorn fragility.
Now, when the light of dusk
Spills it blood over the dunes
When the drawing tide leaves
Us, tasting the salty air, we
Find a ray of touching presence.
Coffee Shop Moments
Images as fast-beat notes
Quicken the pace of a rush
The rush of American dreams
Restless hearts open not
To conversations idle about
This or that or whatever the chat
About all that life may bring
Sipping from many a philosophy
Tasting various cakes of experience
Ensconced in the comfort of now
In the haven from hasty desires
Strangers as warm rays touching
Come together in the smells of
Sweetness and coffee bitter.
Importance of place and time
Crumbles as muffins and bread
Worries in oblivion do fall away
In the caring of dialogues flowing
Such timeless moments just arise
As flickers of sudden openings of
Eternal passages of stories unfolding.
Being here now seeing
People coming and leaving
As thoughts expressed to friends
Calmness can soothe the heart
This, then, is the art of just being.
The branches reach out,
little, budding fingers
towards a patched,
grey lightness of late dusk.
Winter's breath outside
Nestling in warm flesh
Heaving crisp, fine sand
Of a trodden road
Such path, long, winded
Curling cozily, always
As a vein in a wood,
Embraced by a soft
Moonlit, unknown night
My steps, breaking tense
Soft, enigmatic silence
As snares breaking
As this forest, now
Finds this stranger, me
Nudged further in
The heart of all things
Here, now, always I
Behold, unseen to
Tired, conflict eyes
You, my love, are here
Far yet close enough
To the beat of hearts
Of what is awake.
The Well of Grief
I enter into my well of grief,
its clear waters enveloping me, here
I can feel the honesty of sorrow, here
the loss of love and all what was true
shines as glistening stones and coins
lying on that seemingly dark bottom.
There are those who touch grief,
feeling her around her edges, stricken
by her sight, yet not pierced by her talons.
With brittle strength they remain right, as
a cement wall crumbling gradually, exiled
from the tender touches and sudden smiles.
When the sun screams his heat,
When the orchestra of sounds awakens,
the slumber rock is splintered. Now
the world invites us to see with innocence.
Time and time again, as the wind rises,
the moon waxes and wanes, and flowers
blossom and perish in winter’s grip, life
beckons us to hear for the first time.
I enter into my well of grief, only
to discover what I knew long ago, as
an ancient warrior silencing even the leaves,
I hold my breath and pause all dreams.
Here all what I hold dear is alive, matured
by losses, deaths and hurts. Here
the clear waters sustain sincerity.
Here grief reveals what and whom I truly loved.
Des Presstraat 12
1075 NX Amsterdam