you said i was exotic,
and i said ooo
what do you mean?
exotic like a fruit?, like
i don’t know what tropics
you think i came from, was
imported from, but you read
my skin like the label
on a flavour of coca-cola
you had never been
offered before and i
was refreshing, and
different. and you liked
the way my coke-bottle
curves felt beneath your
fingertips, said you’d never
tasted caramel
like me before,
you said i was exotic.
like i was a work
of west african art,
even though my mother’s
from the east, like
i was from a storybook like
1001 african nights, like,
you saw my cover and you were
hooked, never did think to
look beneath the jacket,
just wanted stories like the
ones scheherazade sold,
i was your sheba
and you my solomon.
we rode lions across
the sands, your kiss
was salt on my lips,
i needed to quench
my thirst and you offered
me the brand new flavour
of coca-cola.

you said i was exotic,
like a pretty foreign thing,
some mail-order thing,
special delivery
just for you,
a flavour of coca-cola that you
had never tasted before.

I am growing a flower

'Twas rooted in good soil

I nurtured and watered my flower

It grew strong and bold in color.

Then a day came when foreign seed found its place and tainted thy soil

As nutrients became scarce

I poured more water so the soil became soft as I fought the foreign seed

I wept. My flower has rejected the nutrients from my water.

I fought till every foreign plant had been removed and rebuked their roots

I nurtured and watered my flower

It grew stronger and more bold in color

I have a new flower in full bloom.

I came to this world,
             As a twisted seed.

Drifting along in a realm which,
             Did not belong to me.

But these roots have sprouted,
              Now suckling on lies

A foundation built on malnutrition,
               And a trunk full of wickedness

To be ingrained is a nightmare,
                This forest is for the ******.

These branches reach for home,
                But cannot escape the canopy.

Underneath the bark of the horrific crown
                 None are surprised to see how hollow...



                                      ....I have become.

the words that flow from my soul

to my veins and out through my fingertips,

to most are obstructed by either confusion, misunderstanding

or whatever other baggage they carry that won't let my abstract thoughts

penetrate their unfortunate heavy epicenter.



never have my expressions been powerful enough to break them,

i met you, spent half a day with you, and you left,

that was it, gone, just like that,

1,000's of miles away.



but however, whatever ill-fated scenario that was,

we speak to each others soul, lover we don't even have the same native tongue,

yet you understand my core better than any other that has ever entered my leading light.



i'm taken back to a child-like state,

i feel scared, forlorn.

i'm afraid just like an absent father,

you will provide me with certainty that it will happen.



sweetheart, i hate to break this to you but,

age doesn't pause for life, love or the desire to pursue you

as scary as it may be, if what is spoken to me is true

that dive, as deep, as dark as it may be, know i am writing to you from the depths.

i vow, i won't let you drown. please, babe, dive in,  

my skin is only withering without you.



love & art, 1991

henk holveck

Don't say you love me.
I have a hard time
accepting those words.
Like they are foreign and
do not translate into my
native tongue.

Don't look at me
with such kind eyes.
It burns my skin and
overheats me.
Like sun rays on
newly exposed flesh.

Don't hold me so tenderly.
My body can't handle
the pain of your gentleness.
It has been conditioned
to the harshness of humanity
And may break apart if
handled any other way.

Don't leave me.
I know I am difficult,
closed off and crazy.
Truly a complicated puzzle
to piece together.
But I promise I am
worth it.

You can find me skipping through the streets of Paris. I'll be the girl with the long brown hair in a black summer dress. I'll have sunglasses on and as I make my way around this foreign town I'll wonder why I ever need to go home.

You can find me arm wrestling in Germany. I'll be the girl in the shorts and the lips t shirt surrounded by angry, sweaty German men who just want to take a chance on beating me. And as I laugh my way through the match I'll wonder why I ever need to go home.

You can find me in Italy drinking wine and dancing under the moon along the cobblestone alleyways.  I'll be hand in hand with some beautiful Italian man as we kiss just because we are young and free. And as I kiss my way across the canals I'll wonder why I ever need to come home.

And if by chance I make it home to America, where the lights aren't nearly as bright and the memories aren't nearly as fun. You'll find me in a boring office working as I dream of my foreign adventures again.

English with 26 letters, is generally thought to be the simplest language on earth. A language built up on 26 letters is amazing.

But within just handful of letters, how many words can be misspelled..

My childish attempt to rhyme and write...

ei or ie, we are confused when we write,
it's then the words jump to end their lives.

Homonyms, homophones, homographs
It's fun to know the very facts.

Bear tried to **** Jack with its bare hands,
Jack had to bear the brunt of the bear.

Speed is what we thrive to do
If we forget to Brake, will break a head or two.

100 cents makes a dollar
Jack sent his wife to buy a stroller
She smelled the scent of a broiler
And forget all about the stroller.

The people who lives in Desert
do they have dates as their Dessert?

The dinner was perfect
The wine complemented the feast
The hosts were perfect
And were complimented for their treat.

The King who reigned Prussia
Rode high holding his horse's reins,
But his horse started to panic
As it started to Rain.

Drew looked at his new site
The building looked a perfect sight
When asked for the legal owner
He cited the document which held his right.

To the class of __,

I hear them call my name
as I briskly walk across the narrow stage.
Encumbered in my regalia
weighing me down like chains,
I peer up into the blurry faces
protruding a hand from ambiguous bodies.
I shake rigidly looking across the stage
to face a mass of opaque beings
accumulating into one lump of ambiguity.
I know not their names nor their lovers and dreams
I dreamt alone I sat alone I cried alone I ate alone I worked alone
I sighed alone.
Though in the company of many,
their ship had sailed and I sat in the lonely rowboat
moored to their rear listening from afar
to their ecstatic shrieks of glee
glimpsing the glow of fire in their eyes
flames like distant stars finally reaching me
a dead and gone ancient memory.
A diploma weighing in my hand,
I exit the stage and take my seat to wait patiently
then once we turn our tassels to the right we rocket
into the air blissfully triumphantly
bodies joining hats soaring I amidst it all
the aimless rowboat in a sea of smiling faces--
tossing and turning in their wake.

Feeling like the kidney transfer in a foreign body.

I live in strange cities and talk with strangers
About things dear to me
I walk on alien paths and eat foreign food
And remember
I paint **** women, their hips large
Dark hair and full *******
And I know
We all seek perfection, not knowing
We are already perfect
I sing, my notes rise and fall endlessly
Like a tireless swallow in the sky
And I praise
Hosanna in the highest
And as the dust motes dance in the wintry sun
In my wooden church, I am transported
To singing with Irish nuns
My skin browner, in a country of heat and dust
A country of mangoes and temples
Of saffron and silks
And as I don my jeans
Memories of my mother’s swishing silks
Take me home
But I live in strange cities and talk with strangers
And home is just another four letter word