POEM: Ave |
AVE
1 The other me
I am the man of
water. You are the
man of the fishes.
We could have been
a team perfectly
played in.
I made you strangle for
your beauties which
made me envious.
...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: Year's End |
YEAR'S END
DUST SUN
Cold air, blue sky
no sigh of wind,
humidity clearing away
by the frost-sucking
piston.
Beaming sun, which effortlessly
can see through everything.
Can touch every pie...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: C é c i l e |
C é c i l e
1
'Oh, you write poems',
she said slighty surprised.
Her pen, white floated
through the air, 'so
what about?'
While planes in
large curves flew
around us, whi...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: Waiting for spring |
WAITING FOR SPRING
The modest human
appears
to be
in the distance.
The human is
closer than you
think, though.
Certainly if the
heart is turned to.
This human can
endure and
stand...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: The burning star |
THE BURNING STAR
I Prologue
The words were wry
on this evening before Christmas.
The pastor observed
the outgoings flows
no longer flowing in
so abundantly.
Now that he did not con...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: A wounded rose |
A WOUNDED ROSE
1
'You're a sweetheart'
I told her
when she had
friendly helped me
by linking directly
in a procedure.
She laught at full force
on the phone. Her
teeth will undoubtedl...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: frameworks |
frameworks
1
The procession
climbed the hill.
A dome
rose up
between the trees.
'Dad,
there you go'
one of the
sons said.
And they left
behind what was left of him
in loving
memo...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: You |
YOU
1
You
are
you
because
I
am
me.
Never
will
you
be
like
me.
2
Everything that includes me
the outer
the inner
is me.
Everything that I am not
you are
as human, ...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: For Gert-Jan only |
FOR GERT-JAN ONLY
1
It was a Friday in October
of the year one nine nine one.
We were sitting in a big, really
tastefully designed room,
looking out across the river
and on the beautiful r...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
POEM: Cyclus the game of the circles |
CYCLUS: THE GAME OF THE CIRCLES
1
Steaming up
The life
of a human
can be seen as
a big job
consisting of
numerous small jobs,
to steer clear of
the problems
and try and keep
under st...
Posted by wil on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST |
