Before yesterday

The plate with a pizza stares at me from the shelf,
An axe for a knife, a sword for a fork, a laminated drawing from
Before

The constellations turned upside down,
Orion looked so different from my balcony,
Before
I would search the sky from my mum’s garden,
Before I found love, lose love, found love and lost it and
found it, and I felt like with you I struck gold, with your
Smile, green eyes, easy laugh, your everything that I would hold
In my arms until we’re old, I imagined
A house, smaller versions of us, running around,
Laughing, crying, sleeping, screaming, dying, waking up
Before yesterday,
Before,
Before,
Before,
I split us up, with
Tears streaming, screaming through my head
Your hair, your neck, your smile, your eyes, kindness,
I could be buried in, not cremated, but
I was burning and burning, fire flaring, emergency strobe light, ambulance blaring
Through the dead of night, raindrops on your window,
Wet tissues on the ground, I’m so sorry,
I’m so sorry, het spijt me,
het spijt me, het spijt me, I love you and miss you and need you to know
it’s for us, we tried, we tried, we tried, we
died we’re dying, I can’t stop crying
In your shoulder, heaving sobs, stupid sounds, blubbering shakes, tremors,
quakes, the raindrops pounding in my head,
Everything I’ve said, no regret, god I miss you, I miss you,
Ik mis je en god ik hoop zo dat je oke gaat zijn, het is aan jou,
Your heart is in your hands but it’s a mangly mangled up mess, I’m sorry,
Stinking trash can, almost full, tissues go in, shoes on,
I’m so sorry, we’ll be in touch okay?
I love you, come here, god I love you, ik wil je niet kwijt, sorry
this is confusing, I love you,
It’ll rain a bit less in ten minutes, jacket on,
Holding you, heaving, starving, dying, crying, there’s so much
Haunting me, smiles, sleepy eyes, messy hair, protein shakes that make me cry,
holding hands in the shopping aisle, i’ll always love you
and i hope you do too

het spijt me

Remember me

You broke my heart –
Your bruised, confused eyes, staring and searching,
Senselessly clinging onto the shell of who you were,
A lifetime ago, you now wake up every day
To another memory, you remind me of what you are,
You are lost

You’re a silent child, wandering the aisles of the store, eyes searching faintly for your mother,
You might be able to describe her hair, or her jacket, her name, though to you it would just be “Mum”,
Which you call out faintly in your heart,
Wondering where you are, or why you came, or how you got here, or who I am,

I can see a mind fading to black,
A final curtain closing quietly, yet without mercy,
It reminds me of a memory,

My grandpa, my opa, that stoic old man who used to think we were so loud,
When he tried to enjoy his silence, when it was still a choice,
Though he loved music, and the music of his hundreds of clocks, his endless time,
Till he was almost blind and deaf,
Each new memory fading sooner than the next,

When I shared a pizza with him in the garden
A simple salami pizza, but to him it was magical
I saw him transform back into
A quiet little boy, savouring every bite, so content for a moment,
Present and oh so precious,
When he was finished I would take away the boxes,

And soon after, a few months,
A few more cups of tea, a coffee,
And three pizzas,
He passed away peacefully in his bed.

Now I look at you,
Every time you come into my life,
With searching eyes, so confused and almost blind,

I can’t help but feel my deepest sympathy.
I want to cry at the sight of you, my poor child.
I’m sorry I can’t help you.
I’m sorry you won’t understand
Whatever I will say.
I wish I could help you find your peace, or
To take your hand and help you find your mum, wherever she may be,

But it’s not my time,
I’m so, so sorry.

Passing

Passing pleasantries
Ignored like roadkill
A plant in a pothole
Drowning in the smallest rainstorm
Living for every bit of sun I can catch
On whatever leaves I have left
Before
A deer eats my head
A car strikes it dead
Crashes into a tree
It collapses onto the street
Where she was about to cross
She now passes
If only she hadn’t ignored
A pleasantry

The sandwich and the sidewalk

I saw God the other day, sitting on the sidewalk outside of the Albert Heijn.
A crown in the form of a worn and weathered grey beanie, I thought
It must be a tad too warm, but
He does work in mysterious ways.

He asked me for some change, and I told him
I used to pray to him, and ask the same.
Dejected, he asked for some food – a soft sandwich, perhaps, as he no longer had his heavenly teeth.
I got him a bacon and egg sandwich
From the bin with all the ‘aged’ produce,
Priced down to celebrate its final ‘best-before day.’
I figured it would be softened, and moistened by age.
The bacon egg combo is a classic combination, like
Man and sin, bacon and egg, man and bacon, and man and egg.

When I walked out with the soggy sandwich, a spark sparkled in God’s eyes,
A few tears on his cheeks, reminding me of the soggy bread I held in my hands.
He said he couldn’t believe I came back and provided him his heavenly lunch,
And he shook my hand, and gave me a hug.

I held him for a moment.

How did you fall so far?
Was your throne,
Your horse,
Your holiness
So high?

The taller they are, the harder they fall, and you
Were on the highest pedestal—my neck would break
If I tried to meet your eyes, your expectations, and now
I see you in your truest form.
You
Wanted so badly to be loved and adored by all,
And in turn you would grant us your conditional love, but
I guess you will have to settle
For a soggy sandwich.

A Peculiar Nature Scene

The bear waits patiently next to the river, with a rather peculiar duck between her front paws, watching eagerly along. With no intended malice, the bear slaps at one particularly silly salmon, which lands on the rocks besides the pair. Although the salmon was quite aware of the nature of things, he gave them a surprising request.

“Well, you caught me now,” he blubbed, somehow, “this might be the end of my salmon life, but please spare my salmon wife.” This was a bit new to the bear, as she had not heard her lunch ask much of her before, as she was an ever-so-hungry predator of prey. Nor did she ever consider the implications of a salmon marriage, before this day. Alas, she responded to the salmon, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but as I fish with my bare bear claws, I doubt I shall be able to uphold my end of this clause.” Or, well, she would have said this to the salmon, had the duck not swallowed the salmon whole. He quacked. The bear did not.

As for the salmon wife, she was not as fast as the salmon that had just lost its life. She swam, jumped, jumped and swam, until she swam into a large gathering of logs, drifting on the water.

“Damn,” the salmon wife exclaimed, like a fish. “Indeed,” replied the beaver. It was the six hundred and thirty second time that this beaver made this joke this summer, and he was considerably disliked by the beaver community. Indeed, he had been cast out from the community in a permanent exile, which had previously been unspoken of, considering the lack of a democratic system in the beaver community. In any case, he was hated so much, that the beavers figured it out, got together, and kicked him out of the colony. None of this was known to the salmon wife, as she had never met a beaver before. Nor was their interaction of any particular interest. The salmon wife was not interested in hearing about any democratic system, nor did the beaver care much about salmon marital systems.

The salmon wife started, “But, my dear beaver, marine marital systems are of great importance! My salmon saviour stated in the salmon bible that ‘salmon should save the life of their salmon wife, once they are broken upon the rocks by a bear, with no intended malice.’ These teachings must be taught and thought of as truth!” By now, the beaver realised the surreal nature of their interaction. A fish, speaking to a beaver?

Before the beaver could realise many existentially life-changing revelations, the story advanced to the meeting between the bear and the salmon wife. Once more, the bear waited patiently next to the river, with the duck at her side this time. The salmon wife swam, jumped, jumped and swam, and jumped straight into the bear her arm, which was swung with no intended malice. The duck quacked, “wait, wasn’t that the salmon wife? Hadn’t we heard something about her before?”

The bear replied, “Heard of her before? I don’t know, I am a carnivore.”

Blades

tiredness and rain, the feeling of wanting
a breathless escape
from it all and to
watch from a higher place
to the ground below and the wild seas
with waves as high as planes,
green plains of desolation, and grass
that is always greener on the other side
but
what does the colour of the grass matter
maybe i like it damaged and coarse,
and not cutting, separated and divorced

The Two-Headed Calf and the One-Eyed Raven

You look at the ancient stars, shining brightly in the sky. Green grasses wave at you from afar, and you feel them welcome you to Life, as you take your first steps. A stumble, a fall, but your mother by your side, with her caring eyes, willing you to stand tall. You breathe through two sets of nostrils, you see through two pairs of eyes. You are complete. You have with you all that you ever have, and though you will be gone before your first sunset, this night you will experience all that there is in life. The joy of peace, of calmly sleeping at your mother’s side. The tragedy, which is a privilege for others, to have to wake up and face the day. The wonder of hearing the birds sing as they fly through the trees, searching for insects to feed their young. You are not meant for the skies, but as the birds fly, one song meets your ears. Sung with melancholic sincerity, you see the singing raven perched on one leafless tree, watching you with only one eye.

A child has been born, so full of life,
A head too many, here comes the knife,
A slash, a crack, off goes your head,
A mother, alone again,
When she goes to bed.

She’ll watch the sun rise,
She’ll watch the sun set,
She’ll be alone again,
When she goes to bed.

A moment passes, before you hear your mother sing back to the raven, with a desperate dread.

Don’t take my child, lover of the dead,
Don’t make me say goodbye,
Take me with you instead,
Please don’t let me be alone again,
When I go to bed.

im barely here, you’re not here at all

I’m so far gone
But it makes me think of you
Dreams we had
Dreams we never
had
Dreams we should have had
Now
We’re nothing more
Than strangers passing by
On the street, listening
To songs we told each other about
Thinking
About what we could have been
But
Now we are nothing more
Than dust in the wind

Impressions in the sands
Of time
The hourglass
Turns upon itself and
We are where we begun

Being nothing at all

Heaven or Rain

Rain pours down like the fury of an angry God,
As he tries to drown us once more
And breaks rainbows and promises of eternal love.

How could he not
When he sees the joy on our face
Through sin and pain,
As he realises we have no shame.

We are naked and exuberant,
With heads in the clouds –
Joyous reflections in the refractions of sunshine
That shimmer so vividly.

Heaven could not compare
To these moments we share.
You are greater than eternity,
And I’ll take care of you till our hellish end,
My beautiful, rain-stricken friend.

We can dry ourselves by the fires of torment,
Roast marshmallows on pitchforks and torture tools,
And watch the flames of forever
Burn on, and on,
But at least we’ll watch them burn

Together.

Poem: red light green light

The bustling street corners,
Rumours floating through alleys
The woman in the window
A man on the corner
Protection, rejection, a murder
Of crows and other birds
Fly overhead, past street lights
Green lights, I stay
Between the red flags
So I’m safe from the riptide,
The quiet pressure of pounding waves
Pulled along by her presence
Up there in heaven, the moon
And our many memories,
Times together when
We thought we would be
Forever and a minute
Passed before we were reminiscing
About what could have been,
Though tonight I’ve been
Okay on my own
Thinking about
What should have been
And this is it
The only outcome
For a life split in two
So many times
That I’m okay with being just with me
And not being with you