Walking Through today

Walking through the sunshine

                Brightening the day

Walking through the rain

                Purifying on its way

Walking through the snow

                Dulling with its sway

Walking,
                Walking through today

Coming Home

Met een ruisend geluid en licht wappperende haren zit ik en trekt het landschap aan me voorbij. Achter me klinken mannenstemmen die een koeiengeluid proberen te maken. Dit is mijn weg. De weg naar huis, naar diegene van wie ik hou, de stad waarvan ik hou. Wachtende mensen op de eeuwige rechte weg met de oneindig vele stoplichten. Ik ben blij dat ik daar niet tussen sta. Dat is dan toch weer een voordeel van geen rijbewijs hebben. Een lichtelijk brandend en onprettig gevoel heeft zich verspreid in mijn voetzolen, door het eindeloze lopen in de stad. Zoeken. Elke week weer. Elke dag weer, in mijn hoofd. Het wordt donker voor het raam, geen landschap meer. Nog even wachten, dan ben ik er. Wat ‘er’ ook moge zijn. Sommige woorden betekenen zo weinig, maar zonder zou de taal het toch niet redden. Ach. Dag bomen en grasvelden. Hallo station, hallo Amsterdam. Ik stap uit, de wereld in.

“The great enemy of clear language is insincerity.”
                             - George Orwell in Politics and the English Language (1947)

Tartarus

She lost her voice,
In the crowds of all that sound,
She lost her sense, her sense of time,
but still her clock would count

Every second of her time,
never used enough,
every limit of her mind
and her body, oh so rough

Her greyness, boldness,
all these colourful leafs,
water away before your eyes

till there's only
one drop left
and you are the one that is
melting away now.

Three

I waited for a few long seconds and then started moving towards the door. I slowly opened it and when I looked out, fearing to see those red eyes again, all I could see was the empty hallway. Suddenly, when I had almost slammed the door shut, I heard something. I reopened the door and look down, to see Elena sitting there. “E-E-Elena?! What are you doing here at this hour? Is there something wrong?” “Hey David.” is all she said when she walked in. Still scared I looked into the hallway and when I saw nothing I closed and locked the door behind her. I followed her into my small living room and asked if she wanted anything to drink. She didn’t want any. I sat down on my favourite comfy chair next to the couch on which Elena seated herself, I quickly glanced outside, but again, nothing.

A few silent moments later I heard her twitching uncomfortably, so I turned around and for a moment I thought to see those red eyes again. Scared out of my mind I almost jumped up, but it was already gone. She gave me a strange questioning look, but I decided to ignore her. Oh, hell! Why was it that she always managed to show up on these moments! Why couldn’t she just have visited during the day? What made her visit me this late at night anyway? What could have happened? The last time she visited it had been this late as well. She came to me, crying because of her ex-boyfriend who had dumped her or something like that. Why was I always the one she came running to when there was something wrong?
While I was absorbed in my thoughts, she suddenly started to say something. “David? C-Can you do me a favour?” Again!? Was all that crossed my mind, but I couldn't let her down, not now anyway. “Of course I can! You know I would go through the fires and flames for you!” I said and she started to blush. Shyly she asked me if I would lend her some money because her boss could, once again, not pay her wages. “Well I don’t have that much spare money these days either, but I think I can provide you with enough to come around for another month. You have to promise me one thing though Elena. If they cannot pay your wages next month, you must demand what you’ve earned and look for a new job. This can’t go on forever just because you like to work there. Does that sound reasonable?”

The Clock

De tijd vliegt, de tijd staat stil.
Dagen rennen, kruipen, vliegen.
Maakt me gek, en maakt me blij.
Ik wacht op jou, jij rent voorbij.
Wanneer de dag is aangebroken,
                          dan is hij zo weer weg.
Hij is nu alweer weggevlogen,
                          heb ik toch weer pech.
Nu wacht ik weer,
         for time to pass,
                          for time to pass me by.
Toch wacht ik weer, die ene dag,
                          en nu ook jij op mij.

From The Down

Cancellations feel like holes

            Shot in something that never existed

Fire away with your gun of words

            Kill the anxiety, kill the creativity

Aim your gaze at the horizon

            So you’ll never have to see again

Follow the flight life has taken

            Try to turn it around and fall back down

Shout at all that are mistaken

            But the truth still isn’t to be found

Carrot cake might taste sweet

            But you will never know

Cause you don’t have the courage

            To be exited, curious

Life’s span seems like an age

            What it might nearly be
            But you will never let it
                                          and just see

The crowded mind, no space for

            Thinking about the fun

No planning, no future, just now.

            Where today begun.

Afraid to look away,

            Scared to look me in the eye

Crazy about some,

            Careless about life

Where it will take you, no one knows

It’s time to jump. Out of your shell,

From the hilltop.

Not just carry on, but go further.

Improve and be inspired,

Don’t sell your life to boredom

Spend it on what you can

Get to know what you like,

Or not. Take that chance

And do it. Don’t lay back,

Sit up and show the world you’re here.

Two

I had a rough day. Seemingly happy I helped all customers with a friendly smile, but I felt like crying. Just before work, I went through the freezing cold to visit my mother. I had to ask her for a favour again. The coffee house in which I have been working since I was 18, was in deep financial trouble, but I could simply not quit the job: I would probably not be able to find a new one, and, the shop had been such an important part of my life that I could never voluntarily throw that away. The owner, Jessica, told me yesterday that the wages would be somewhat later than usual (as usual). I haven’t had any salary for three months now, but it would be too hard on me to make a fuzz over. This is why I had to ask my mother if she could borrow me some money for another month, and this is why I felt tears burning in my eyes the whole day. She told me she had difficulties to pay her own bills at the moment, due to the crisis. I felt I could not make life any harder for her at this moment, so I decided not to ask her for anything. I went to work, was nice to everyone, and tried to come up with a solution.

When I was finally home at half past 9, I lay down on my couch to watch TV, hoping some kind of solution would offer itself via the flashing screen. I fell asleep and dreamt of people in uniforms coming to my door and kicking me out of the house, without giving me time to pack my stuff. I started awake and decided that this time I would have to ask David to do something for me one last time. I had asked so much of him already, but he was my best shot at the moment. It was getting quite late already, but I decided that I would see if his lights were still on and then just ask him. When I got to his building, I was just in time to see him walk away from the window. I went to the 3^rd floor, knocked on his door and waited.

One

It was a cold and rainy night in November. I woke up with the strange feeling that I was being watched. To soothe my mind I looked out of my window, providing a view over my neighborhood. Gazing through my window I suddenly saw a man appearing out of the shadows in the alleyway under my windowpane. He was staring at me, and I stared back at him. There was something odd about him. Then I suddenly realized what it was, I was staring into glowing red eyes.  Directly backing off the window I reconsidered if what I had seen could have been real. “No this can’t be real,” I said to myself. "It must have been an illusion.”

Drawn back to the window I carefully looked outside again hoping that he was gone, and he was. I sighed deeply relieved that he was gone when all of a sudden I heard a hard knock on my door. Could it be him? No he certainly must have been an illusion. Then who else could it be at this time of night?

Falling From the Trees

There is a girl, falling from the trees, where her comfort and

love once was. Flying down, faster and faster, earth is blurry

in her sight. With a loud dash, she lands on the ground, not

knowing where she is, not knowing where to look. All she

sees is new, because she is new, and treated like a curiosity.

A curiosity that doesn’t fit, and isn’t welcome. There’s no

language she knows that will help her any further, so she

talks with the birds and hugs the trees, longing to go up

again.

"Sometimes I Wait"

                              I

                   Sometimes

Sometimes I wish I could atone for sins of the past,

sometimes I don’t want my memories to last,

sometimes all I want is to forget.

Sometimes I wish my choices to be changed,

sometimes I don’t want to be deranged, 

sometimes all I want to be, is happy.

Sometimes I wish my life to be less messed,

sometimes I don’t want to be depressed,

sometimes all I do is wait and hope.

Hoping that all will be well.

Waiting because the time will tell.

                          II

                      I wait,

Waiting for a sense of time

Waiting for the bell to chime

Waiting for my sense to return

Waiting for the sun to burn

Hoping for my soul to heal

Hoping for my purpose to reveal

Hoping that all will be well

Waiting because the time will tell

De Bus

Normaal vind ik het heerlijk om naar Haarlem te reizen en geniet ik van de treinreis. Vandaag gingen er alleen geen treinen, en moest alles met de bus. Ik heb een algemene afkeer van bussen ontwikkeld door de jaren heen. Vroeger werd ik altijd wagenziek, maar mocht ik nooit voorin zitten. Toen ik later begon met uitgaan, was de nachtbus soms de enige optie, maar dat was altijd een angstige ervaring. Vol achterdocht staren naar die onverzorgde man rechts voor je: zou hij straks als je uitgestapt bent achter je aankomen, je verkrachten, of erger?! Dat er altijd bijna geen mensen in de bus zitten om een uur of drie 's nachts maakt het ook niet beter. Vandaag zit ik in de bus, niet misselijk gelukkig, maar elke keer als hij een bocht maakt knijp ik mijn ogen dicht, in volle verwachting van de klap die mijn dood gaat betekenen. Doe mij maar de trein.