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Flor 7d
In the canvas of the sky, stories unfold,
As clouds drift by, their tales untold.
With a wild imagination, I watch them dance,
Creating adventures in a single glance.

A dragon's roar, a castle high,
In the fluffy clouds that paint the sky.
A ship sets sail on a sea of blue,
As the clouds whisper secrets known to few.

I see faces, animals, shapes so grand,
In the ever-changing sky, where dreams expand.
With each passing moment, a new story is born,
In the vast expanse of the heavens, adorned.

In the silence of the day, I listen close,
To the tales, the clouds and wind impose.
With a wild imagination, I let them guide,
As they paint pictures, far and wide.

So let the clouds weave their tales so free,
In the endless sky for all to see.
With my wild imagination, I'll soar and roam,
In the stories, the clouds call home.
Another version of Mr. Cloud Tells Me Stories
Zywa Apr 2
Human babies are

infected from birth, with the --


story parasite.
Novel "Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights" (which is 1001 nights, 2015, Salman Rushdie), chapter 4 "The Strangenessses"

Collection "Low gear"
Zywa Apr 1
Within every

story new stories, that's how --


the universe works.
Novel "Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights" (which is 1001 nights, 2015, Salman Rushdie), chapter 7 "Within the Chinese Box,"

Collection "Low gear"
AE Mar 29
There isn’t much to this week
but on this day, intertwined in a breeze
wondering if the clouds will shower
or burst into a freeze
I read pages and pages of past
taking breaks to peel pears
and slice the strawberries
drizzling honey onto plates
and savouring the sweetness of spring fruit
I think of all the mountains I've yet to climb
and how much I look forward to the rain
but parts of me still hold onto autumn
and the feeling of watching the trees
shift into a new ending
It’s just like how these days
I keep returning to the shelves on these walls
picking up all the books
from every conversation in the past
and trying to, once again, read between the lines
to decipher when those questions
became answers
AE Feb 24
Pain resonates through these laughs
a sense of solitude, lonely voices in isolation
I hope to wash off this ignorance
and listen to all that you wish to tell
holding on to the burning sense
that time is leaving us all behind
I think of ways to never leave your side
hoping you keep these stories on your palm
and feed them to birds on their quietest days
Zywa Feb 21
A golden story

is not forged of sparkling truth --


It shines with deceit.
Novel "The Golden House" (2017, Salman Rushdie), chapters (1-) 6 and (2-) 23

Collection "Low gear [2]"
AE Feb 16
To my father, who loves telling stories

Pomegranate seeds,
splatter over the countertops
your laughter heightens their fragrance
a dish rag in my hands
a halfway story exaggerating between your lips
mouthfuls and mouthfuls of past
something so simple about this morning
a togetherness of complex mirage
sun pierces through this sinking heart
and a strong desire to ease the pain
that has sunken into the cracks
overcomes me
I wonder what love is,
If it exists beyond this moment as anything true
and you, still lost in your narrations
tell me all about living
and this wondering finds ease
just as I, in your presence
AE Feb 16
The momentary confines
And the viscosity of this remembering
It sticks to my throat
And I think of ways to love
Beyond the way of words
Beyond the everyday exchange
But to hold on to everything
Past and future in these frail hands
Sew them deep into the leftover stains
From Sunday brunches
And midnight snacks

At ease
You tell me
I listen, I listen, I listen

The pain of telling stories
Clutches onto my chest
I wish I could tell you what hurts
And what doesn't

But I listen, I listen, and listen
Zywa Feb 1
Today, too much is

happening, I must pretend --


it is a story.
Novel "Buitenstaanders" ("Outsiders", 1983, Renate Dorrestein), § 3

Collection "Truder"
Zywa Jan 26
The stories I tell

are too thick, too big, too wide --


You can see the lies.
Autobiographical book "Aftermath: On Marriage and Separation" ("Nasleep: over huwelijk en scheiding", 2012, Rachel Cusk), quoted by Merel Kamp in her article "Karma, lot of eigen schuld? Vertel het maar" ("Karma, fate or own fault? Just tell me"), in the NRC of January 16th, 2024

Collection "Appearances"
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