Treasure Island

Madrason writer

(24-07-1967 / waalwijk netherlands)

Broze Bengel


Vliegend naar het licht
vliegt zwaargewicht,
bang dat door zijn val
'bam' plots de oer-knal,
alles opnieuw zal beginnen.

Maar voor blindheid alles fel
-het licht van de schijn doet hem pijn-
verbrandt hij in de hel.
De doffe schalen
en Bachanalen,
fee-erieke taferelen,
harpyende minnestrelen.

Alpha redt Omega wel
het is een tijdloos stel.
Prikkende puteaen
op olijven zee-en
prikken snel.

Het ritme van de snaar
breekt vlak voor het gevaar
en jij.......Broze bengel
slaapt zomaar als een engel.

Alleen vuurvliegjes beminnen
het licht dat schijnt van binnen.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, July 18, 2012

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