The colours in my house
nowadays 
black towels in the bathroom
while kitchen ones in orange
midnight blue on my toenails
today is the day
for my best green dress while
my argent laptop provides me
with the best tunes of the world
so today it is
dancing on the wooden floor, like 
devils may care, crimson lacquer heels
and why not, no a silver lining setting 
these days

Nostalgia my biggest weakness
Melancholy my biggest strength

she easily feels
trapped quickly
after a while
in the same house
streets shops parks
at the same time
swarmed pubs parks
make her feel
isolatedly closed-in
as she was young
the vanity filled with girls
with hairspray, lipstick
she just stood there
half part of a world
outside her books
disconnecting back to today
when television resembles
confusing thoughts
haunt for decisions
nervousness relieves
as travelling antes up
yet seeming the only
solution contrary to wishes
of closeness to the
same people if you
think back a long time
when comfortable with the world.

I read somewhere
that a lie makes no sense unless
the truth were felt as dangerous.
I once had a best friend
told her family I made her
come with me to Madrid
told me her boyfriend
was still an ex
told him that her family
adored him
Closing her circle.

Wake up in the morning
Tired like the night before
Sad like the week before
Anxious like the whole month
There's shame and sadness and decline
And there's a relief that it's almost
done.

She sees him immediately
She always does
He does too by the way
They're still connected
For ever
And anyway
She grabs her phone
She pretends
He hates her for that
For ever
And always

Mistreating and cheating
and when after two years
she asks him to come and
collect his stuff
he goes all glum and blue
for having her ending
their last straw.

She has the capacity to fully
enjoy and engage
to go to work hangovered
sniff and stay with it.
She has the capacity to fully
admit and appreciate
the match he is
sup and stay with him.

She knows it's all
temporary, him in her house
her with her contract,

a bike ride along the river,
an old car still steering
She knows it's all

about being inventive
a bright philosophy
She knows it all

I wanted to divulge
start over and say love
and I really could have
yet instead -
my nails poured into the blue
velvet of our dining chairs
my head a cloud, grey, dark,
storms around that shouted
at you and -
I really should have
saved and said
while you -
nothing, looking or
did you try anything
Don't even recall
Only the sinking
my nails in the blue
and you blaming me
not a grownup not responsible
an I-love-you would have
protected
yet instead I held
nothing more at all.

I didn't go. And then a few months
later I did
Left a mark or maybe rather a cloud
because I took my books and left you
the table | the cookware | the roof
Disquiet became quiet
Not at first, at first I was all over the city
later it did
A becalmedness in a scene where the wind
still blows | where a snake still in my head
but it seems better to think
about things rather maybe
When in a total remoteness
With a window to the world

March days have returned yet in
a completely different light than
in other years - in former times

now traffic noise has died
while standing on my doorstep
when looking at yellow flowers

new silence
green gardens
blue rooftops

Days are long and friendless and
I really need to dive in deep
to find the memory between all

this concrete, of the ocean
a smell of salt - sounds of
seagull cries. So here I am

in silence
green gardens
near rooftops

Close my eyes on the upper terrace
knowing the buildings and for a day
all has a blue peace while birds sing

full need to leave it all behind
throughout time it'll be clear
when possible turns doable

texting your from Prague
my thoughts some pictures
and all, you
been there - years ago
Lost my cloud
needing you in Prague
my desire some doubts
and all, you
breakfast with beer
breakfast in tears

Maybe just maybe
It was not him the boy you
just fell in love with you
just started living with you
just wanted to be the one
I reckon he was rebound
instead of the very soul
not counting the amount
of time to be longer you
thought but this new one
the one you
don't dare to name
by his own name you
keep on referring to as
just a friend at the office
just someone I share my bed
just a poetry workshop and
Sure. And it's
alright clouds burst 
a spring in your step
not just a dress 
And you're all right.

it seems she's especially capable
of building relationships
staying in friendships
or acquaintanceships, as you wish
when it's long distance
meeting up once a year
and merely just speaking
over the phone or via Face
it shapes her anyway
and creates a safe distant closeness
or a very close distance, as you like

My mate broke off our friendship
via sms, I kid you not.
I thought only children behaved
like that.

she doesn't really stand out
although she does but then
to a selected crowd anyway
shyness for arrogance
longleggedness for presence
closeness for alliance
a need with a wish
a park on her own
a saturday at sea
waves break for her eyes
only leave every
selection behind

writing each other letters
like in the Brontë days
Romantic souls know
their ways and words
writing each other chapters
Too soon maturing
unto paragraphs or
solely wordings so
Out of the window where
paper becomes powder where
wind storms his thoughts apart

I'd like to be the sort of person
people send a postcard to

It is because of the non-fighting
anymore that somehow
they think
you deserve this.

Took me ten years to disinter
the coasts are clear
this town is mine
Dogs are more endearing
trees abide along the beach
Not knowing the knowledge
to encounter safety when
it's in front of me
A note inside
Innocence is short-term yet
no single river should run
away from the sea

I like the grass under my feet
my latest gray strands
my perpetual doubts
I like to travel by train
my suitcase pocket-sized
my world full-out
I'd like to finish my book
get my head straight
and grow up.

She sits on the bench closest
to the sand; able eyes,
smart soul. Meek, careful,
honest maybe. Talking; once
a psychologist,
always.

How do you loose
your wife, your life, I ask.

Irises as blue as her
goodwill dress, arranged
properly over the wooden
boards where legs crossed
elegantly.

Asking
a fellow rifle bird
about the weather.
Supping 
up some whiskey the skater
brings along because of his
birthday and guardians. It is
good to travel, she says. It is
time for beach now
next month an island. 

It doesn't rain as much
anymore.
Lady Di and Mother Theresa
were good women.

I'm not really afraid
of you.

Irises bluer because of her
tears. The moment I let her
go, I retired. She showed me.
My wife, my life.

I saw someone at home
behind those eyes.
I saw someone go.

conscious about subconscious
moves and twists she hated 

to lie but there it was

the life getting the hold
the songs where the tears
a boy where no love
a kid where no desire
no fear while a mortgage
no shame while a contract

so there it is then

the little voice holds no music
the life keeps her promises

conscious catches subconscious

you remember you were in love
once

dreaming distant hazy state
a scent of home yet not being
able to eat a thing

twice
it was like that

completely absorbing tangly state
sharing a home yet not being
able to fully devote

but the memory feels nice
the love was real and
still
is why the songs are for you
the flowers and peaceful breathing
too

a mind blown tunnel vision
a curl up on the couch

thrice
will.

because the leaves
they rustle turn a light
wind, stroking the season
still warm enough
to dive in unripple
this brightness the calmth

a happiness
polished by so much beauty
trees surrounding the lake
circles lost in this
dialogue of sounds and colours
how many identifiers are
there to believe?
crickets are laughing, a prey bird
sleuths the satiness

a happiness
so unworldly
a gratefulness
so unearthly

that I just dive in bring  
me down back to
the lights ways to
wish on a star

A fascinating smile,
he starts
Reaching out while 
she reaches back glad for
an opportunity to
attention which love as well
Sun flares up
while the red leaves fall 
last Summery days
The park people have gone 
weary not him
not her
he talks to
her dog to start somewhere
building starts to
grow leading to what she
inside well knows
the wind sounds so nice
she's afraid
not in front of crowds 
but a he
so close is too near
not knowing what
happens when they'll do
what he wants
how she wants it too
He lets her
alights on eyes for now

the hardest things
I did
was waking up in
the morning
a rained out Saturday
telling you
I cannot do this
anymore
I cannot talk sit watch
be with you
anymore
the next hardest thing
I did
was sleeping in
this big bed
alone
for a first night in a row
of years after all years
with you.

Deadlocked
So, so cold.

My new middle future
has started
in the blue of my night.

You and I
need to think
I've been avoiding
The path your shoes made
it all so visible
The bright light of your absence
I tell me it's all so palpable
the crack in your soles
a crack in my heart
the crack in our chain
Fragments of life kept
in a box that I carry next
I'm left with and yet
I step out of the house
and even now we're gone
your footprints lead my war
into a mirror of melancholy
Where I will forever find
your smiling shoes
my smiling band
our smiling eyes
the memory of better days
a memoir of the worst
I won't wear your shoes
I stand for something else
One can only choose one

the small print that draws you in
takes you with to the clouds
the moon
wherever necessary to the dream
in and out my 170 pages
in and out your hometown
in and out a forest
the sea
the moves you made
alive on paper
alive in life
all words and feelings
fill in the missing
turn right the wrong
voices sounds smells
a touch the sun
move and growing
alive and dreaming

Jet lagged until i cannot do
it anymore, the schedule of
getting back on track. Meaning
i'm losing it completely, more
than already used to anyway
my complicated brain. Thought,
dreams, hunger, thirst tumble
over each other. Meaning watching
tv at 2 am, reading 5 tabs at the
same time so willing to buy any
discount ticket to any afternoon
show hoping it'll help me sleep
sleep sleep, please!
Eating a bunch of peppermints
again, not answering any calls or
emails the songs on repeat, more
than already used to anyway
during a day. One book ready
upstairs, the others lying around
on the kitchen counter below,
an ideal place to stretch the legs
and make another
coffee, coffee please.

Translation of ''Voor Ari''
by Jules Deelder
[Rotterdam, 24 Nov. 1944 - 19 Dec. 2019]

Dear Ari
Don't be afraid

The world goes round
and has done since 
for ever

People can be good
People can be bad

Yet they all are on
The same roadway


The longer you live
The shorter it takes

You emerged from the water
and will pass through the blaze

Therefore dear Ari
Don't be afraid

The world turns round
and will do so
forever

Shells of desire
Wings of trust
Eyes in wind
Grains of sand
She has no fear
feels the love in 
different layers
He wants fire men to
be able to do their job 
instead of traffic jams
She wants people to
be at the beach without
fear of armed response
He does not want to
sit on his mam's couch 
and work a 9-to-5 feeling
possessed by banks too
anyway.

I really thoroughly enjoyed
our time, our together,
your being around,
your helping me out
I really thoroughly did
and do, still
I need to run and go on
an adventure which should be
my own, without your time,
your being there,
your helping me out
I'll be leaving my past,
your yours, while
justifying my moves to
leave this love and all
I'm terrified though
tears trickle down
my face into your pretty hair
They dry and leave
leaving a trace. I hold you
tighter yet feel the relief
of leaving, accepting
this love and all
has to end, in the end
I'll be back for one week
only so we can really thoroughly
cloud and end and
the tears, the pretty hair
hit me at once. They dry and
leave, leaving no trace.

This one hangs loose colours of flaking paint
the floor has trees growing through
Still full of character - Why have they
abandoned her? So crowded around
those new doors in
this newly built towns
Impeccable versus decayable
Stable versus chaos
Live means laundry on the line
Lawns neatly trimmed Spotless
furniture in line no dust
Versus death rooms deserted gardens
Clouds of dust floating
into another dimension.
Tea time - coffee to go.

A sheet on the milk
A long disquisition re Game of Thrones
and whether he has seen it
or not
Her ex-boy on the street
definitely not waving
And so, we all have something
to deal with
in our first world.

with an energy only
others believe in
still can see
she cannot anymore
like before at certain highlights in
life is losing ground
at the foot of the mountain
the rain in your face is
welcoming drowning

a schism between the lines
a fire boiling in the powder
she tries to go
along, to devise
what the others do

even when you glide
it is hard to trust the wind
around you, above you


the front door opens
puts the future on hold
she tries to move
a silence between the thoughts
a flame boiling in unsad words

Such happiness
I felt with you
and music and films and
just laughing there

Such peace
I felt in the house
and the river and
just lying there

What I thought at least
Until money kicks in
Or envy and
freedom an issue

a week comes, goes
at two precisely
the door strikes
no text message or call
just arrives and knocks
she smiles at the daffs
music to see him
she gives him a kiss
surprises herself

For 1,75$ a fast line
For 1,25$ lots of stops
so - why not converse.

How come you're so tall?
Why you're on a bus?

He is my friend, you know.

It is a warm day today.
You want a soda?
Or some salami?

I love your coat-your bag-
your smile. I'm from México.

We had free Christmas dinner 
in a church with Golden arches 
coupons as a bonus.

Completely unruly,
high on cake and life is good
this time.

The funny girl of the group is
copying accents as if it were
a performance. 

Full of joy, merry, 
come and listen to her act 
some time.

Never lose your height, you hear.

This state gives you space to think
and opportunities to dream.
This state shows palm trees up the sky
and harvests most golden apples of all.

Yet
some travellers live in a car 
on a fixed salary. 
Yet
some travellers have no sugar 
or fast line fares.

When you're poor,
you start hoarding stuff.

The ocean crashes
The desert colours
The gates are closing

Murals on walls

Kind words can warm 
the winter months
Unspoken rules can stay
unquestioned fragments

In buses a world unfolds
so why not converse.

It seems so many things
have turned fifty this year
Woodstock, me, Abbey Road too
On my road trip I met
a beautiful guy who stayed
to see Janis and Jimi
best concert ever, he said
best life to compose yourself,
he knew and this is just
the people I want to
know, talk, live with too
the people I want in
my world and my memories
back to concerts with friends
to my parent's place and
my nan's radio mornings with
creamy strawberries; books, plays too
in mind and in reach
Back home is where I
belong to be.

how weird he said
you don't eat
anything outside the menu
anything from the Chinese super
nor an odd porky pub meal
yet
while away he said
you eat
anything off the street
anything from a cage at sea
or an odd shrimp ceviche
weird one he said
I love you he said

Going into the furniture shop
you turn left to the glass table section
I turn right to the blue velvet chairs
we meet in the middle
nice wooden bench, grey sofa
Works well for years
Adding discs and dvd's
we both like still
playing The Mac when
you're not there
and precisely that way of timing
music before 6 pm shows
who watches over whom
who wants to add a coffee table
Freedom with fear
Enough to love but not
so much so let her go.

All has been invented before
but love - when we're out on the terrace
without the sun but anyway
cos it's a Wednesday and
we just want to get hammered
cos it's a Wednesday and
I just want to look
in your eyes to find the verve
regardless of being at work,
going to work, let's never work
again
it's the kick of a drink (or two)
the kick of your sparkle (or two)
You look away
I weigh you
cos I do not like it (when)
You say I'm too zappy
been told that by the other him
Start jumping to tease you
Start talking to kindle you
I do not like myself like that yet
I do like it less you're provoking
me ignoring me while your eyes
not distant but observant, inviting
me to say more to crawl next to -
Huh
I'll manage, I'll wait
and get you home regardless

Yesterday when you
told me he
asked about me
Last year it was
I broke down
Just did and you saw it
my face froze
as my heart
kept on beating.
The rest of the evening
and the first part of the morning lost
while I walked and walked
the streets but no memory lane per se
but this was our route
and it is still mine
all mine mine mine
my streets my river my city
again but it is not about you
anymore you and me
anymore but it is about knowing
I won't find that body that humour
that sense of spending a Saturday morning
anymore.

Feeling secure about being insecure

Look at yourself she abhors
the mirror as big as she is
not hiding truth like she does,
her friends do, her mother does
about weight and skin and age
Women issues in the way, again
just look at myself she ponders
it itches and stinks and makes
my face go red, my pores and legs
not tighter as assured, as seen
in the advert with ladies her age
told by mum that I'd be grateful at 60
The cream on her legs makes 'em look
more crumpled while all seems tired
belly and ******* under gravity
yet she keeps on applying, better
believe than sorry, better shield
then it'll work in the end, after
all her mother told her so

While walking, I feel a sudden pace
know the words before they come
up, all because of street signs,
parks and tumbling thoughts.
Of thinking of you. My pace
skips a beat, my words stop.
The sun shines and I hold you dear.
The rain pours and I hold you, dear.
You are in my house and I want
you there. You remedy my world
and we cook a meal and talk.
You take me to the river
and back. I have fallen.

Maybe one day I catch
a flight to México to
see the Monarch butterflies
migrate and learn
how to wave through a storm.

How dark is his inside sometimes
The light is up, a sun over the stream
different smells, good food and he
sits inside - sulks over nothing made

into something
too big too bright

for my body to take in
for my mind to zoom out

He calls me his strange little
girl, makes sense I cannot seem
to learn from our failure to stay
together, hit my head on a tree
yesterday - nothing to write
home about

not something
that big or bright

for my body to take in
for my mind to zoom out

So I hired a kayak and took
the stream by surprise, stroking
it slowly, calmed down as the
riverbank moves over, carrying

me to something
so big, so bright

my body takes in
my mind lest forget