Macarons
Lured by a row of pastel macarons
I enter the store like a stray verse,
looking for comfort in its soothing hues
The soft face behind the counter smiles
when I smile, before I order a coffee to go
with my pink and orange macarons
Author: kamiel79
Zo kennen we elkaar: tien facebookvrienden in het echt
Het volgende artikel was niet interessant genoeg voor de traditionele media. Het is op deze plek gepubliceerd omdat ik het eventueel geïnteresseerde lezers niet wil onthouden. We weten allemaal hoe er in de traditionele media over social media wordt geschreven. Er kleeft een stigma van oppervlakkigheid aan. Het gangbare idee is dat we ons online ...
Wealth
A downtown apartment with security and a water cooler.
The furniture landscape emerging from a Persian rug.
Slow drip coffee. Long bookshelves with "art".
A low noise dehumidifier.
A mahogany banister.
Gentility.
Heirlooms.
Silence.
Freelance bullshit jobs
I have been fascinated with anthropologist David Graeber's concept of bullshit jobs for a while. I have written a bullshit job poem and a bullshit job rap. In this video, Graeber mentions an informal poll he conducted on Twitter to classify bullshit jobs. He arrives at five categories: Flunkies.. the people sitting around doing nothing, ...
Spiritualiteit
Deze keer een gastbijdrage van Henk Beukering, die ik wilde redden van de vergetelheid der blauwe duimschroef.
Spiritualiteit is collectief pathologisch narcisme.
My violin teacher
After twenty years I found my violin teacher
on Facebook. She remembered me, that was one of the joys of teaching, she wrote.
In the mean time, entire lives have started:
our children born, nine eleven, financial crisis. History has happened.
I want to ask her about my vibrato.
Reading: Harbach 1944 by János Pilinszky
János Pilinszky (1921-1981) was an Hungarian poet who served in the Hungarian army in the Second World War. His work has been translated by Ted Hughes and János Csokits. Warning: I read a very dark and graphic poem:
Dinsdagcolumn
Voor het eerst sinds een jaar heb ik, volgens mijn eigen berekeningen, gisteren mijn maandagcolumn gemist. Vanmorgen leek het er even op dat onze rakettenman Kim Jong-Un dat ter ore is gekomen, want we werden wakker van het oorverdovende geluid van overvliegende straaljagers, langer dan gewoonlijk in deze contreien. What is that noise, zei mijn ...
Oh great people, great healthy people
Oh great people, great healthy people with bosoms abulge and necks like reeds I want to like the fire of empathy that burns on your cheeks I want to write in the wake of your perfect gait I want to abide your teeth, carnivorous and straight I want to bury my envy at your feet, ...