Daan - Hello Poetry

Daan Jan 2015

I wish to whisper in the ear you picture
him
nibbling on.
I try to make it easy, to help
you
understand, just what it is
to feel so bright, picturing a kiss,
before it even happens.

if it ever happens
I guess I'm just old fashioned,
though I appear the opposite,
sometimes.

Daan Jan 2015

A walk

A daydream at night
love at the very first sight
sinking, making home
wherever wildly I can roam.
The change itself gets your attention,
attached and gone.
It's greedy to keep the road
your own. Passing lives like
days and loving until it pays.
With effort and a will
you won't get anywhere still.

you can increase the chance, but you'll never be sure.

Daan Jan 2015

meaningless lives

People confess to me every day
and I can't take it anymore.
I have gained respect for people
whom I never knew before.

This will be my job, later
or I can become a waiter,
not a writer, because a
hobby so scarce, should not become
an empty promise.

How can one be so cruel.

Daan Jan 2015

Repeat

Repeat me, keep the cycle going,
endlessly rowing up a waterfall
or when my mother feels the urge to call
all day and ramble on.

Rehearse, retry, redo, start over
and over, be gone, come back
and try again. When I'm gone
you'll miss the roaring sound
my belly makes, or our cats
when the dog mistakes the sound for food.

Laughing nor purring will make you feel
the same as I do.

Daan Jan 2015

Perseverence

The instruments, ruined, in the back,
away from all potential visitors,
even though they're the best you
ever held. Their authenticity is gone.

Your voice seems small,
even though your mouth is tall.
You say too much but mean
too little, stay back.

Stay away, you are too close,
I can't move now, I know she knows
I'm a sad waste of time, and I
don't deserve her. She'll hurt you
without noticing, she's too good for
intended pain.

My cactus died, I gave it too much water.
Doubting *****.

Daan Jan 2015

The balcony

I've been comparing the
expensiveness of the clothes he's wearing
to the level of his unconditional caring
and there is no correlation.

I'd rather stare around, talk
or laugh on that perfect balcony.
But if I ever pass the cold grey stones
and the buds of cigarettes again,
it'll trigger the emotions of a moved, changed man.

As I stare right through you,
as they did, as they will,
I notice I am just as wrong.
But that's what happens when the storm is strong
and the home you've tried to build
on the hill is struggling to stay still
on the day of reckoning.

You do know that judgement is not a one way street, don't you?

Daan Jan 2015

Pretentious

She had the guts ro rob me
of my most important days
for now. She didn't even say
why she left.

She wanted to get rid, afraid
to start another role, enlargening
her lies, making it harder to
accept herself.

I'm guessing the best forms
of inspiration are those
like storms, heavy, strong
and not that long. In time
she'll understand.

What once was so precious
has turned countless