The sky is blue and cold today
as if the atmosphere is thinner and I can sense the void under which the houses are small and low, meaningless fleeting and interchangeable The old timber factory seems to be leaking On the right side of the base smoke rises from the building as if a reversed draught through the black chimney hole absorbs, from distant stars, seas of gigawatts of power for the city
Jacob van Lennepkade, Amsterdam
I entered the display case
of people educators subsidizing snobs the multirich and companies among tourists and inhabitants who want to be seen in the museum café and with sophisticated pastry lard the conversation with careless clauses they quote from an authority whom nobody has to understand to get the intention of the praised artists The shop was crowded Spotlights on show-pieces fancy coffee table books and chic presents for the season and the next holidays Especially the past is on sale, postcards of the attractions and sights of the city interchangeable like the collections which graduated stylists cast in international moulds to magnets for visitors
Collection "The Yellow House Museum"
lovely apparition for the man in me, lovely decadence of the eagerly, lovely poem lovely, Kissinger and the dearly, how often does one remember how often of the off off the membrane of the soft off the remembrance of thy spine love your poems and the manly woman women are they eager of Shakespeare?
man of the world you want to be your wild eyes threaten my father hand, please, send an angel, light, a woman a favourable wind, sweet dreams someone, something to help you unbreakable mirrors if need be Father, mother, earth, universe make something happen, of course who sees everything, does not know why to intervene freedom would be meaningless if for adults only understanding and obedient everything with measure, giving up what is beautiful and attractive and smiling at the discontented excuses and lies of the past You grow up wounded I too have built, defended and then demolished castles and walls - old men's proud of the scars of my fight
Collection "I am"
The level is rising around
the islands of silt in the swamp, the fishermen see their world widening Old streambeds are also filling up The wetlands become accessible by rivers from the mainland It is a ******* void a gate to the sea, a chance for the peat farmers and the forest people to start trading, to build dikes, quays, a city with a dam in the middle People are flowing over from the prosperous villages to the impoldered land with the new port – not an old core that hungrily conquers the surrounding lands but their colony
• AD 1100, the beginning of Amsterdam
• Almere = Big Lake Collection “New Ago"
my dreams and aspirations
cannot be confined to this textbook for it can’t teach me how to walk the cobblestoned streets of stockholm, surf the waters of bondi beach, ride the canals of amsterdam, nor hike the city of cinque terre. but here i am, not knowing what the future holds in store for me, just waiting for the time to come of which i can experience the joy that is to travel.
Dark clouds in the sunset glow
there's an invisible death below Amidst apartment blocks, I stroll around and around a new black hole of concentrated matter A broken-winged cargo plane smashed friends of friends of friends of mine It is quiet after the blow I want to hear what I don't want to know and then kiss away the danger be it with a stranger Caress me, caress me, make me glory for a night, let me forget this story
“Bijlmer disaster”, a Boeing 747-258F/SCD cargo aircraft of El Al, flight 1862, crashes in Amsterdam on October 4th, 1992