Prayer
Give us the courage to think for ourselves
to question the authority that lives in us
When blackness befalls the history we make
Don't seduce us to become what we hate most
In the name of the father, the son, and the holocaust.
Month: oktober 2017
Looking for a web designer
If you have an 'Eye' for the design of Internet websites and have some clear and distinct ideas about how you would redesign the very website you are looking at right now, I'd like to hear from you. I have designed this by myself, so naturally I cannot look at it with the eyes of ...
De grot van Lod
Wanneer je in Noord-Thailand op pad bent, doe je zoals iedereen en huurt een motorscooter voor 100 Baht (omgerekend een euro of 3) per dag. Zo ook wij, in het lieftallige maar door hordes gretige toeristen beknaagde dorpje Pai, drie uur haarspeldbochten ten noorden van Chiang Mai, de tweede stad in het Land van de ...
Profession: poet
I am a poet. Where do I work? In a bank. In a bakery. At a gas station. At a convenient store Or in a flower shop. The people just need me around While they go about their business, I sit in silence I don't say a word but the people know they know a ...
Reading: To Death by Anna Akhmatova
Today I read fragment number 8 from the cycle 'Prologue', called 'To death' by one of the most famous Russian poets of the twentieth century, Anna Akmatova (1889-1966) in a translation by A.S. Kline . Translations of a lot of other Akhmatova poetry is also available on his website. To Death You’ll come regardless – ...
Reading: Tenebrae by Emile Verhaeren
The Belgian poet Emile Verhaeren (1855-1916) was one of the most prominent poets of his day. "His Black Trilogy, Les Soirs (1888), Les Débâcles (1889), and Les Flambeaux Noirs (1889–90) explores the spiritual abandonment of a soul lost in the recesses of its own involution." (Donald Flanell Friedman) I discovered the English translation of a ...
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.
(Pablo Neruda)
For Octavio Paz
I read in a poem by Octavio Paz: The word of man is the laughter of death. When I look again it says: The word of man is the daughter of death. We talk because we are mortal: words are not signs, they are years. I close my eyes and smile. Paz is the poet ...
Pop-up human
I am a pop-up human put me anywhere pop me up in the street: exposure guaranteed. Your target group can sample the human brand / all from a temporary stand. I am a pop-up human with traces of life on my face 100% authentic, foldable at the knees trust me, we can talk about the ...