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Dark Dream May 2
It ebbs and It flows
Like the desert wind
Into murky soup
across some unknown veil
A Frequency of Signs
And Co-Signs
It bombards and It leaves
abandoning like fallen trees
Trying to survive
Inside a wave of tides
Or a rip of monsoons
It was a nuisance
It was a heartache
leaving was survival
Time to put out/get out
Flip to the other side
We are human beings
With feelings.
Look around
Not enough empathy
Each day we look more like robots.
We are so clever, only brains.

Shell ✨🐚
With advanced technology we ourselves have less  empathy, less interest in people near us.
I wanted to write a poem
about the incessant discomfort
I always feel in my left eye
whenever my contact lenses
become old and dry
I thought about how it tickles
but scratches at the same time
and starts off alright
just a minor annoyance
but quickly, overtime
becomes almost unbearable
like my pre-school bully himself
is folding down one of my eyelashes
just enough for it to poke me
at the slightest movement
then I thought about how
I'd sooner write a poem about my life
and how it started out equally alright
and quickly, overtime became almost unbearable
as if my pre-school bully didn't do it right

so I found him in his adult life many years later
wife, two kids and a mortgage
yappy staffy-cross, two cars
and an alright job as a graphic designer
his garden full of gorgeous flowerbeds,
a full head of hair and a fading right hook
a puzzled look on his face,
garden hose flooding his drive and the yappy
staffy-cross still yapping away
at the living room window
so he called the police
and I never got to feel young again
unless you count scurrying away from
a council estate under the threat of
a poor meal at Parkside police station
the rekindling of my youth

so this is my infomercial poem
about how not to confront someone
always be fully clothed
that's very important
avoid being drunk
any mind altering substance
is best avoided in my opinion
remember just because you care
just because you remember
does not mean anyone else does
oh and
don't eyeball craft beer when
you still have your contacts in
you know what?
-just don't eyeball craft beer
Juno Jan 17
When we made eye contact earlier
it wasn’t the same.
Something hangs between us and I can’t feel you as clearly as I used to.
Zywa Dec 2020
We hear the glass skin

that separates us, ringing. –

Another outbreak.
Social distancing

Collection "Different times"
Zywa Dec 2020
Our skin is a pleasant separation
to undo with our body and limbs
and when we kiss and are one breath

we are also one spirit
no different thoughts
one passion, nothing separating us

agreeing with each other and ourselves
complete in boundless

But where there is space
presence arrives, thoughts
tacitly sneak in, hand in hand

they build a thick wall
as a solid support
for familiar views

You no longer see a wall
only a green hedge

rampant with repetition
and rooted in the need
to be apart, with acquaintances

without contradiction
ambivalence and understanding
safe and not powerless
“Borderline” (1994, Joni Mitchell)

Collection “The drama"
Zywa Sep 2020
While reading I meet

distant people as neighbours –

so intimately.
“Een goede buur” (“A good neighbour”, 2020, Ellen Deckwitz)

Collection "On the fly"
Zywa Aug 2020
Less than two square meters
that isn't much skin

to make contact
with so many people

who attract me, all the children
I would like to cherish

besides the cows and the donkeys
with whom I'd like to have a talk

too many animals to mention
also the amazing beings

that plants are, their strength
and acceptance to carelessly

lose to fruitrobbers what they get
and the stones, rough and smooth

in all colours, they touch me
down to the finest folds, deep

in my body with the wind
of my thoughts
Collection “I am”
Zywa Aug 2020
Trembling in my view:

a woman, looking at me –

through my telescope.
“Het veer” (“The ferry”, 1997, Willem van Toorn)

Collection "On the fly"
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