Madrason . Poems

It took a while, seemed endlessly
but now we move on separately
like one egged twins that almost blind
who looked, so close, yet didn't find
...

My mare and I
are riding up the sky
in to the eye
the sudden why
...

Our farewell rituals decay
like trodden paths of mud
before the concrete shovels in
where can we find our traces
...

De roddeldendron staat in bloei
haar tongen dansen in de knoei
en als je kijkt dan is ze mooi
gevangen in haar eigen plooi
...

Zo veel terreur om de juiste kleur
de juiste plek, de juiste stek
een keur aan vorderingen
gezeur van sluiterringen
...

We patent patiently
like painters
paint the sea
but we are weak
...

Poor me a cup of metaphor
my dearest uncle Theodore
some candy-sugar Pleonasm
and stir the milk Melancholy
...

Yet in the deepest darkest holes
where we lay trodden on or souls
we rise and come to glorify
without meaning to petrify
...

Men are like octo after pussy
squealing and pealing
a rampart Debussy
one thing on their minds
...