Desire, hardwired into my construction
easily misunderstood,
causing blatant, fierce destruction,
forcing things I otherwise never would,
deluded as in rain.
Yet in the end, only bringing pain.
Compromising in any way for highs
or to be sure these weren't lies,
to be sure I wasn't losing ground,
lending jackets, touching thighs
or just putting my arms around
any thing you'd like.

We took a hike in dangerous mountains
returned with stories
untelled fountains,
unlived truth.

I wasn't sure about anything for a certain while,
except for this small, precious dose of overlap
that may leave you wondering how I'm able to smile.

My dishonesty turned you into a trap,
together, whether anyone has to take the blame,
things will never be the same.

As written by the eyes of friends,
as the broken toy our glue mends,
warning signs, it all aligns
perfectly.

Obviously,
words you said, you meant,
as needles, pinches, letters sent,
ripped apart by unclean hands.

We stared into darkness
wishing there were lights
deluded by our sights,
took steps in bismal directions.

We'll fade as our connections,
receive returned letters untouched.
As the time we dreaded, clutched,
we chase,
hoping it would not escape,
hoping it would show its face.

Embracing the lessons learned,
I've lost my will to be concerned

Bearded, hairy, pimpled fairy,
repulsive, obnoxious, loud and anxious,
daring, daunting, sweating, crying,
lying and prying
to get the details out,
presumptious, precautious yet nosy,
bossy, knowing it all and showing it all.

Dancing for no apparent reason,
same for singing,
showering, caring and pairing.
Associations big or small,
drama at the mall,
glances, waves and smiles
helping others with piles
of work, with quirk.

Strong, fierce, succesful beings, kind
with deep eyes, steep noses, cheeks
and jaws, able to cut glass,
a freakishly tight, yet humbling behind
or ***.

Adventurous, spontanious, loving
and watching and staring and matching
catching every voxel, every pixel, every line
or dot
or just a couple or just one or not.

Full, sizeable or rather small, yet kissable lips
or standing tall, bizarre
symmetry, bigotry, whining and ambitiously
becoming a truer version of what you
think you are.

Nudge, shove, turns into push,
words gush, a silent rush
yet no reaction.

Retreat, react, relapse, repeat,
never in the same place,
not even able to meet,
running some platonic race.

Decisions ruin, picking one makes and breaks,
Rice was right yet one solution,
tear apart instead of up,
run away for both your sakes,
run away from this pollution,
this toxic hurricane.

Go home, be safe and sane,
letting outside's air in will only cause more pain.

Ik heb zelf niemand verloren.
Waarom heeft hij te klagen,
zal je vragen. Wel, ik wil luisteren
zodat een ander jouw verhaal kan horen.
Van mij mag jij dat roepen zo hard je zelf wil
of lichtjes in mijn oren fluisteren.

Ik voel dan met je mee, ik wil dat samen dragen.
Daarmee dat het soms, in fracties van, begint te knagen.

Ik weet dat dat niet echt hetzelfde is,
zo simpel is dat zeker niet.
Daarom, echter, dicht ik toe.
Meer dan dat kan ik niet geven,
Ik hoop dat ik zo voor iemand anders,
misschien één mensenleven,
toch iets goed doe.

Om het onbreekbare te breken,
dagen die zo vastgelopen leken
opnieuw te bewandelen.
Om onderweg ongeziene dorst te laken en
zo hopelijk sommige zaken
terug los te kunnen maken.

Om het ongeziene op te merken,
samen te zien en weg te werken,
weerspannige stroefjes
of kale plekken te doen verdwijnen,
in losse proefjes en of strakke lijnen.

Als ik maar ergens helpen kan
dan mag je dat aan mij vertellen.
Misschien kunnen we het onheil vellen
of ermee leren leven.
Meer dan dat kan ik niet geven.

Voor mij is dat het waardevolste wat er bestaat,
elke dag een goede daad.
Zo wil ik laten begrijpen
dat jij altijd in mijn hand mag knijpen
wanneer de pijn weer toeslaat.

Ik wil helpen dragen,
in deze vorm, geschreven,
want meer dan dat
kan ik niet geven.

How do I put it like it hasn't been before?
How do I say it without it tumbling into a bore?
How do I pronounce, in one word, what has to be heard?
How do I write in ways it will not be forgotten?

Is it metaphores like birds and flying?
Is it with fire of dire rhyming?
Is it rambling about loving or dying
or even such harsh expressions it is lying?

With bodies, with intertwining eyes, if not the rotting of a heart.
I'd try with poems, paintings and precious works of art.

But its purpose remains absent
like a dead language in the present.

Iedereen weet precies beter
waar ze heen gaan met *** tijd.
Ik was vroeger vooral een zweter
en zie nog te vaak niet wat ik mijd.

Het lijkt of ik de aarde
onder eigen voeten
te lang heb verwaterd
in plaats van erin te wroeten
heb ik maar wat getaterd.

Doe ik alsof of zij.
Mag ik ook ooit
januari
in plaats van augustus, maart of mei.

Het lijkt zielig wat je voelt,
toch zie ik wat je bedoelt.

Beetje gieten, beetje wachten
tot geduld de grond uit woelt.

Temporary friends, travelling in the same
direction, seated on the floor of a train
that did not pass inspection, heated
in arguments, chilled by the outdoors
but thrilled, had never felt the pain
others carried deep within their cores.

As they smoked inside and lied
about succes and achieved goals,
as the roaring fire charred coals,
they searched for a place to hide,
a place to look up at the sky at night
and still feel safe.

By day they read books
and faced exchanging looks
as the rusty train paced
across this barren land
that'd gripped them in it's clutch.

Some drank too much,
were overmanned, forgot to stand.

Its final destination was a meadow
dark and pure, the only light
came from up above as if it meant to lure
our strangers closer to endure
the shinings our moon reflected.

Even if these people weren't to be trusted
even if their skin was scarred, lip busted
and they made decisions with a coin to flip,
why or how they came up with the trip,
if they were classy, sketchy or messy,
no one got rejected. They made this,
the least ignorant form of bliss.

Whether it was his words
or the cold flake of wind, sent
to make a chill his spine descend.
His mind got divided in two different worlds.

As bumps arose upon his skin
he took the time to let the view in.
He looked too closely, too refined
in a way that every difference properly aligned.

Two friends in pink and red rehearsed
what they had read before he even had discovered
how this image of perfection frantically hovered
so far from his yawn and written cursed.

The cold did not emerge at once. The breath he throws
is visible and harmful though the proces slows.

How can I go slow when I
am sure that it is you.
How can society ask me to
keep it casual when I'm
sure I want to get close.

I know you're right, I have to lower pace
love is not a race, love is not about being fast.
It's a marathon of perfection.
I get the feeling, attraction
never liked me back.

A walk with fire
to reheat and warm my heart.
A flight through wind
to blow away the sorrow from the start.
A swim in water
to help me breathe.
A walk on earth
to be guided safely

back to where I belong.

Orange and green were melting
together, seen almost as a pelting
of connections, flooding like
paint, mixing, touching, unlike

what green had thought,
two colours already made of
combinations, don't blend
don't spend
time
when orange has chosen
to follow instead of make
her own
way

A meadow but less soothing,
a mother but less rooting,
a lover but less passionate,
a wedding but less fashioned.

Deep pink asian flowers,
almost purple, contrast showers
of a mass so captivating,
smell creating, eye baiting,
can you feel their warmth inside you,
do you know for sure you love her,
because you would, after all,
after this, you should.

It's not a matter of being able
I know I could, if I chose to so.
When the ways you love, though
seemingly doubtful or unstable,
are so attractive, you would not part
them. Don't let them mislead the heart.

As it is known to hand in mysterious roads
to you the knowledge but not insight.
As you search for perfection, you might
just see the the air escape her nose, up close
you'll notice the ways are written in codes.

She handed me life in a glass of wine,
I took a sip, gave it a try
as if I fired my personal spy
and everything seemed fine.

It took a while to take the time,
stand still, think and fill
the glass right up again,
it's nice to loosen up
I think next time
I'll drink
it will be from a larger cup.

To all the girls out there who want
a guy to do everything for them. I know
all you wish for is a man with confidence
who also happens to be attractive.

Knowing it is for my own good is not
enough. Give me something extra in
return and I will make a fool of myself
for everyone to see if that is what you

desire. Desiring you is my curse in the
morning, trying more is it in the middle
of the day. In the evening it is failing and
at night it's crying for another way.

Maybe you've already showed signs,
maybe not, I just want to make it sure.

No matter what she's wearing,
she's always overdressed.
I wish I could stop caring,
her body makes me stressed.

Her eyes were shaking, pushing out
the salty fluid, gliding down across her mouth.
Her knees were trembling, trying to control
the mixed emotions, emerging in her soul.

She was losing it, I couldn't watch, bear her state
of being crushed. I rushed closer, held her tight.
Even though I knew in different ways too late
I felt she deserved more than just one night.

As pretty as she was, as loving and friendly, as so
she was not accepting what I knew she understood.
Deeply do I respect, deeply do I crave to
go back and change something. If I could.

I wouldn't have made it go away,
I would have wished I had different things to say.

I wish I did not have to tell you what to do.
I need someone who does those things without asking.
I wish I had someone like you, who loved me.
I need someone to actually love me.
Appreciate me, please.
I'm breaking down on the inside.

The conversation is different
I would have told you anything,
some of the words, they sting
you seem more indifferent

You did this.

Her skin was showing blue and red
Her head was marked by a mark of the dead

She giggled a fake and horrible sound
Her body was nothing but suddenly bound

She took off her dress slowly but sure
Producing a sight no mere man could endure

Her ways were always like this
Impressing with grace and killing

with a kiss

Goeie avond nostalgie,
wat fijn dat ik u zie, zien
mag. Sinds FIFA veertien
lag ik al aan uw voeten,
fijn dat ik u mag begroeten.

Vanavond gaan we drinken,
tuimelen, duiken, vallen, zinken
in een zee van liefde voor elkaar.
Eenmaal, andermaal, niemand bezwaar?
Dan leg ik mezelf in de watten,
vanavond gaan we boiten.

Ik draai me nog eens om
verlies de wekker uit het oog,
toe, laat mij nog even liggen hier
laat mij nog even
de dag uitgesteld vergeten
nog één minuutje langer zonder mijzelf op te hoeven meten.

Krakende opstand, opstaan met de verkeerde hand uit bed.
Opgetogen, afgepeigerd, ingetogen, opgesteigerd,
als een paard met vierenveertig wielen
om nog op het werk te zijn vóór de volgende editie
van Allerzielen.

Vergeten eten, lap, rap eten vergeten.
Anders maakt mijn buik lawaai waar men stilte wil.
Ten allen tijde, vermaledijde.

In eyes we trust but shouldn't.
Girls I thought that wouldn't
ever do such things in front of me.
The bell has rung, all in favour but one
must pay. If I don't remember you,
not even by the stripes printed on
your outfit. If my own camouflage
will hurt my image. Flowers will
grow on the grave of how we're ought to
behave.

There's a mountain here of dirt.
It's so filthy and muddy it's kind of absurd.
I am king and I lead. I'm generous to agree,
the less they bleed the better my degree.

I'm a student god, handling the basic 'how to do's'
of this dirt mountain not a single ant would choose.
My land is forsaken and I have to save
the lives of the useless and those of the brave.

My teacher god is greater, I cannot contain,
the things he does, the power he has, rain
or drought, floods and quakes, how do I maintain
the lives of the many. I'm no divine clerk.
It feels pointless when he influences anything I do.
I think I need to resign. But if I stop my work,
how can I believe he did not do too.

Heads are getting turned,
cliques and bridges lining
up to one by one be burned.
As a fan of fine wine and dining,
Tommy's witches are cursed yet eaten
by b*tches, fighting each other,
boxing, punching to bother,
lunching till everyone is beaten.

Broken glass, everywhere,
stepping with shoeless feet
crawling through to meet
the girl across and over there
the place where clean and neat
statues stand and dream.

Behold this world like no other,
enjoy the fruits and thank its mother.

Dear,
You crave telling what you did
because you craved doing one thing
wrong. Keeping it locked and off the grid.
Your voice is silent, your face does sing,
it shows to those who know you
that you know who
is hurt.
I too
expose the meanings of a flirt.

I am surrounded by listeners,
but fearing the response,
surrounded by a massive crowd
minus the ones who are allowed
to hear whatever happened to you,
my dear.

Ik ben een leeg bed, leg je neer,
bedrijf iets zot,
vervul mijn lot.

I am an empty bed, come lie with me
and fulfill my destiny.

The pages were ripped, the pages were spread,
what in the world could have, ferociously, lead
this young man to snapping?
And black as these pages must have been his heart,

and torn like these pages, his love fell apart.
She saw it coming, knowing he'd crack,
stood there, did nothing, or cut him no slack,
closing herself when he opened up, she

was the case and he was the book, and
mad as a crook, he grabbed his last chance,
did not kiss the cook, killed her instead,
for boiling his rage as furiousness rose

he gave it a shot and tried to propose,
love me or die, so I can be free.

To earth she had fallen, no more than a second,
later, he followed, down on one knee, he tried to kneel,
for his love was too strong, it ate him alive,
perfectly prepared, his favourite meal,
scorched ribs, spare'd.

The menu was wrong.

You're hired, start monday,
seize that day,
take it,
it's yours.

Off course, unmanned
no map, nothing planned,
no lookout, no captain,
no treasure.

Passing hours, passing notes,
wandering the sea
on different boats,
living the illusion you are free.

Let the waves carry you
let the tides, the moon and the wind
guide you away from the times you've sinned
only to return when true,
completely torn apart from value,
blue and red, steady,
don't let anyone knead,
wait until they've fled,
when you are ready.

De ruiten zijn besmeurd,
de huiden zijn gekleurd.

Mensen hebben andere mensen pijn gedaan.
Het doet verdriet om dan
voor de spiegel te
beseffen dat
wij zomaar door het leven gaan
zonder daar bij stil te staan.
Mensen hebben andere mensen pijn gedaan.

*** kan dat toch? Waarom gebeurt dat nog?
Zijn wij, de mens, nu nog niet oud genoeg
om geleerd te hebben, te weten,
als we zo door doen,
zonder meer fatsoen,
het hier rap zal zijn versleten.

While drinking a beer on my roof
I saw a man on the other side
of this river on his balcony
set his cigarette to light.
I waved and asked him
about last night,
what are we doing
and why,
still awaiting his reply.

He went back in,
his favourite sin,
smoking with a grin
was now forbidden behind doors,
he had to come back out
again, to press his lips
and move the air
from lungs to fingertips.

How dare he be without defining,
how dare he deny the silver lining,
how could he act without any further thought
and throw away the things he just had bought.
(seemingly so eagerly)

I accepted friendship from this man.
As I took another sip from my can,
I knew that he could tell
when I noticed my own fingertip
that it was ridden with that smell.

I hopped off without regret
things unknowingly were said
and my mind can't comprehend
why my thumb pressed send.

Closer, I get pushed away
farther, I get pulled back in
and every other day
one of us can get a win.

You're playing games, it seems
and your mind works in experienced teams.

Leave me be, I've seen enough
maybe I'll get back to it
when one of us returns less rough.

This morning
was a fest of sun and rays
and beams and plays.

This mourning
is not some thing that pays
my pain slays
me whole
a hole
where my perseverance used to be.

I never wanted to accept acceptance
but in where I stand right now
I feel darker than a crow.

It was my own doing
to think I thought it would be freeing
seeing you leave.

My heart is frozen but I don't need drama.
It's my sole issue
that I miss you.

In frogs, in pizza, in windows and wine
I can only keep proclaiming I am fine.

Aan het einde van de week
moet ik naar een evenement,
dat mij bij beslissen leek
leuk te worden. Je kent
het wel, niet iedereen
en je moet veel doen
alsof, acteren.
Die moed kan keren
want het was zo druk,
het was vermoeiend op het werk,
'k had niet veel geluk
in de les of in de kerk
om op te letten, bij te blijven,
goal te getten.
Helaas, ik heb al toegezegd,
mijn vat is op en ik wil slapen,
ik wil rusten, voldoening geven
aan mijn eigen lusten.

Afgezegd,
gezwegen en belegen, leven
alle mensen verder
en ben ik heel tevreden
dat ik nog net genoeg had
in dat vat om te zeggen
dat het enige wat ik wilde,
mezelf erbij neerleggen
en hopen dat jullie
er niet te zwaar aan tilden.

Do you remember what you said,
recall your words smacking my head.

The harsh and deeply felt are a purity.
Your love for me was personal security.
Where I ly and laugh and dare to be.
Without the context we would have been
happy.

She wanders, all day,
she roams and walks and strays.
She browses, loses interest,
yet she does not give up.

Some would lose their temper,
others feel uneasy. How can she
stay so natural, breezy.

I swear I wasn't staring,
I tried to restrain.
Honestly, but you know
how I react to smiles,
as beautiful as yours.

I tried to let it go
when I heard your final no.
Somehow I ****** it all away
without you my life just seemed so grey.

I started missing you the moment you said bye
there's no need to keep stuff from each
other, or even worse, to lie.

This is not a class some people teach.
I know I went too fast for you,
when in ways I did not have a clue.

My lack of experience drove me to the ground
I want to hear your voice, it's sound.

I've made bets, I've done my wages,
locked my money in specific cages.
As it rages, as it's yelling to be freed,
I've worked out the raises that may lead
to what I need.

I've parked my car so often so soon,
I've tried to take pictures of the moon
in cities, in bars, on rooftops, on mars.

The plants are dead, the lights are dimmed,
the trees and hedges, carefully trimmed.
My garden is a place of finding
things, binding things, reminding
me every once in a while
how too much water killed the smile.

Other options seemed to pale,
I bailed my investment out of jail
as soon as I saw the rotten, rusty hinge,
stale enough to make me cringe.

When markets are inconsistent
and your growths may seem persistent,
take another look outside
to remember every time you've lied
to keep your dreams alive.

Coping in interacted paragraphs,
forgetting how she laughs,
shrinking two sizes,
time buys us
revelations,
reasons for lost relations,
pathetic reasoning drove men crazy,
sour, winning by being lazy,
there, not in other places.

Depleted, deleted, not needed,
promises, changes, well pleaded.

I dread the times in our near future.
Time will soon be running out
and I'll have to let things go without a pout.

I wish I'd been working harder, I wish I had
my priorities in line. In the end it'll all be just fine.

Duizelingwekkende pijn vertrekt vanuit mijn rug,
mijn ogen staan op barsten
zienderogen
zou ik het noodlot tarten,
had ik mezelf voorgelogen,
ik zou het allemaal wel oplossen
later
maar de leegte keerde steeds weer terug.
Mijn tanden knarsten,
vingers bogen,
het zwarte scherm speelde me te parten
levenloos en leeggezogen
wie kan mij verlossen
van al wat ik mezelf heb aange-
Daan.

The face, it feels like home, tossing
eyes, gazing through the room,
connecting visions, wire crossing.

I saw you first, before others cared or noticed.

As if, one moment and the next,
as if you zoom in and all else fades
as if you consume my field of view, my eyes.
A part of me, small but somewhere, slowly dies,
slowly decides, it is not needed any
more.

My guard down, you won me with your stare
I am no longer able to not care.
One does not compare, when all he sees is all he wants.
A deeper kind of illumination
almost within, ways of temptation.
And the rest is background information.