Category: poetry

It’s not about the money

There’s drifters in your blues jacquard

(..)

And when you play at crossroads
please tell me how much you want
to take me away

(..)

I shot an eight-faced-man in Reno just to hear him say:…

*Inaudible, guitar takes over*

The bands that play past midnight, until the rooster crows,
and then return to play at a different venue, in a different city, where it is already dark and past midnight, are the most fascinating and hard to book shows.

It’s not about the money,
It’s about your souls.

45 rpm

Don’t you hate it when you pick up a faux 17th century goblet and when you take a sip you lock lips with a skeleton.

They tell me I’m at the wrong party because I’m not dead yet.

I can have this one dance but I should leave

You can die tomorrow or yesterday we’re not stragglers for time they say

But if you are only dreaming you can’t stay.

At the court of the sun king it’s always night.

Irony they say, is in splendid supply and twist the daggers under their shirt to their advantage

I’ve never had better

The reflection is empty but so was my life
I’m saving a lot of time always being dressed for the occasion

Grim, but in glided rags gliding over polished floors slick with red

At the hall before I leave I turn once, twice and the dream blurs. 45 rpm.

Pause

“I would like to see some bears, please”

*Universe pauses in thoughtful silence*

“Not up close please. I do not need to experience the insides of the bear. The pointy, salivating, growling, hungry insides of the bear.”

Space

The dead are weightless

They take up space in the mind only

Sentimental objects left behind, become cyphers

to those who can read the past.

Here in the now

Ceci c’est une vase

Ceci c’est une horloge

Ceci c’est un objet d’art

Ceci may or may not be rare enough to fetch money to buy new memories

All ends up lost and is found.

Spam poetry

God Bless YOU C. B. can meet with YOU TONIGHT Fly into the paradise with burning C.W.

EMAIL beneficiary, My name is dr. Foxxy, I am working with the Exploding Dinosaurs Company ltd.

-spam poetry is made with random word input from my spam folder.

Echo

leaves in a sunny spot
via unsplash.com

Langzaam wordt de stof van mijn jas steeds dunner en voel ik de striemen van mijn rugtas meer.

Het gewicht, niet alleen boeken, sleutels,

maar ook pluis..

(Het pluis) een mengsel van nat geregende treinkaartjes, snoep-papiertjes, verloren richtingsaanwijzingen geschreven door een goedbedoelende, maar onleesbare hand.

Kiezels en takjes van toen de tas een keer open viel en je in de haast alles bij een graaide.

De detruit van een reizend leven.

Maar ook van dat wat niet meer is.

Er zitten vreemde vormen in de tas gestanst door het vele sjouwen en proppen.

‘s Nachts verbeeld ik me dat er echo’s dwalen tussen de vouwen, op zoek naar gestalt en een luisterend oor.

Ik heb de tas omgekeerd, maar je niet gevonden.

In the Emperor’s Employ

 

The playful dead drag their bones
The sultan roars
Pigeons high in the rafters
Glance disapprovingly
at the (interlocutor)

Cause of the ruckus

‘I’ve lost my marbles’
Cries he
The little one.
In a big ringing voice
‘Find them’

And softly counting
(and cursing under my breath)
I wait
For the queen to shout

‘Get your brother his marbles
or whatever’

And that little imp
‘s smirk will turn into a baleful brow

When I announce my escape,

‘Sure, I’ll check the garden.

and place the burden

‘Hey Dave, take care of Rob

On my sleepy eldest sibling.
whose defenses at this hour are
still scattered across the town
snoring in their booze

I’ll make sure

The time of day
and the point of return
Meet past noon
while I’m making miles
Across the highway

Out riding my bike.

Good Advice is the banister aside the stairway to hell (Parody)

We all know the original saying ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’

What I’ve always wondered is: is it just a road? Are there hills? Do you at times have to take a stairway? (This is hell after all, not a pleasure walk through the gardens.)

Twitter you tickle my funny bone quite often, especially when you’re in a quotational mood.

It comes in waves; the life is a half-full-glass-of-water-quotes, the mom-‘n-pop-quotes, the luxurious-lifestyle-affirming-choices-quotes.

Don’t feel bad we’ve all quoted at one time or another, It’s fun. it’s “like, your opinion, man” 😉

The things that occasionally set me out to writing repartee’s are the ‘life choice advice quotes’ that pretend to be/are made out to be the end-all-cure-all-panacea to your life’s woes, the troubled questions that race through your head at 4 am and hey it makes great coffee too while solving the oort-equation.

Let me tell you something: Advice Quotes are like self-help books.
They work for the person who is exactly like the author in many (but not all) ways.

So because you’re undoubtedly looking through my twitter timeline to sling some silly quotes back at me…. No, you’re not? I’m vaguely disappointed…

I’ll just list my favourite ones then.

“Smile, nod, agree then do what the fuck you were going to do anyway.” – R Downey Jr.
(great advice when people tell you what to think or do and they are wrong.)

“Do as I say, Don’t do As I do”
(on failing to uphold your own standards)

“Don’t listen to me. Get your own pick and mix.” – mother to her kids.
(Overheard in a supermarket, applies to life in general.)

On a more serious note:

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Because this post was going nowhere fast.

Enjoy your day

and don’t listen to me.

Love,

Cal

Vroeger zwommen vissen trager (Poëzie)

 

 

Vroeger

 

Hadden we meer tijd

Spendeerden we onze dagen

Met relatief kleine dingen

 

In verhouding tot de toekomst

 

Soms wil ik gewoon binnen waaien

Zonder eerst langs de agenda’s te gaan

Maar ik weet dat

 

Kinderen & familie

Rekeningen

Interessantere vrienden

 

Gewoon geen energie voor meer dan

Geen tijd

Geen zin

 

Weet je

Het is

Zo het is

 

En ik reis ook verder in de tijd

En ik ben ook niet meer zo makkelijk te vinden als vroeger

En misschien geef ik niet meer wat je van me wil nemen

 

Gelukkig heb ik de herinneringen.

 

Wanneer ik je zie zal ik je groeten zoals toen

En vergeef je de kleine dingen

Ze doen er niet meer toe.