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Zywa Sep 2024
The old man watches

the bathing girl in the lake --


and the sun goes down.
Song 'Song of the Lake' (2024, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds) , album 'Wild God'

Collection 'Break'
Zywa Jun 2024
In the empty hall,

standing next to her suitcase --


mum waits, and she cries.
Retrospective "Autobiografie van een flat" ("Autobiography of an apartment", 2024, Otto de Kat)

Collection "After the festivities"
Zywa Apr 2024
He's vulnerable,

just look at the craquelure --


over grandpa's eyes.
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 2-11 "Revelations"

Collection "Low gear"
Zywa Mar 2024
The many years lived

make me crooked, I subside --


sink into my roots.
Novel "Spertyd" ("Deadline", 2017, Elsa Joubert), opening sentence

Collection "After the festivities"
Zywa Mar 2024
Characteristic

of old people's buildings is --


their name: Home of Loss.
Novel "Spertyd" ("Deadline", 2017, Elsa Joubert)

Collection "After the festivities"
Zywa Mar 2024
The shadows are long,

I'm waiting, it's getting dark --


it's coming closer.
Song "Not Dark Yet" (1997, Bob Dylan, album "Time Out of Mind")

Collection "Great Stream"
Zywa Mar 2024
A new appointment,

and today my first grey hair:


what many changes!
Poem "My first grey hair appeared", 806, Bai Juyi) - "Just ten days after starting this new job, I looked in the mirror and noticed I had sprung two new gray hairs."

Collection "Stream"
Zywa Dec 2023
That old age problem,

of course you know, I have it --


anyway, type 3!
Collection "Slow circles"
Glenn Currier Dec 2023
The breeze stretches and cools the season
along the country road
variegated light, leaf-filtered
from trees that lean
in rivalry for my eager eyes.

Their foliaged arms dangle, then drop
an amber snowfall all around
as if to awaken me
to the autumn creep
into my bones that click and tick
with each tottery step.

Earth awakens me to the beauty
in this splendorous season
of the gliding swaying passage
of life in alteration
and spiritual invitation
to bathe in the slow current of creation
along this road
and its cool and bright possibilities.
Zywa Nov 2023
I'm falling apart, believe me
it's real, and not a request
for pity, just
falling apart, cracking
like an old jar

I've been through too much
suffered too much, for now
it is going slowly
but still faster

I can't keep myself
together anymore, so be it
I just let you know
then you can come
to accept it too

I will soon be about
630 million impersonal
particles, dust
of course
without consciousness
Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 1-3 "Hit-the-spittoon"

Collection "Low gear"
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