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My Dear Poet May 27
follow me not
follow me less
and follow me little
oh shadow, oh glue

afraid of sun
or dark
in shades of grey
or spark
you breathe between the two

free to go
free to flow
till swallowed
when day is done with you
Astonishingly beautiful world spins around sun
Good and bad souls balance out
To come play with angels
Demons emerge
One needs the other
Cannot survive without
Good cannot exist without evil
Zywa Apr 7
A person must learn,

there are no suns anywhere --


that don't cast shadows.
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 3-7 "Abracadabra": We must live, I'm afraid, with the shadows of imperfection

Collection "Low gear"
uv Mar 24
Contentment
Pause
Breathe
Hope
Free
The mind
The load
Slow down
Rewind
Sit back
Intertwine
earn
Your keep
yearn
peace
Contentment
A place
A balance
An emotion
Zywa Mar 9
It is all pastel,

the light, the music and I --


this very spring day.
Composition "Sonate per due organi" ("Sonata for two organs"), Muzio Clementi, performed in the Organpark on December 2nd, 2011 by Erwin Wieringa and Theo Hellema
Walls in pastel colours, stained-glass windows

Collection "org" #18
Jellyfish Feb 22
I should be thankful,
To be able to live the way I do
To not rely on my parents
To no longer suffer from abuse

This is the way I make a living
But it's hard for me to show up.
It's hard to explain it,
How I feel is tangled up.
I want to live in a book plot.
Zywa Jan 29
Between star and night,

between black skin and white skin --


our fire is burning.
Poem "Yúya Karrabúra" ("Fire is Burning", 2015, Alice Eather)

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
Zywa Jan 4
Climb up the ladder

and look next to you, a snake --


is waiting for you!
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 2-2 "Snakes and Ladders" (the board game "Moksha Patamu")

Collection "Low gear [2]"
Zywa Jan 1
Living to the full,

always searching for balance --


and finding myself.
For Maria Godschalk

Collection "On living on [1]"
I once wrote of a grand hero who protected galaxies from would-be conquerors
the remnants of a single town on a single planet following it's self inflicted demise
I wrote of love
of dreams
and of ghosts
many things that few wish to discuss
we are merely shadows of ourselves in the 'real' world
or perhaps this is merely a warped perception I have
yet the only true solace I find
is here
what poetry means to me
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