Poetry portfolio :]

En dan mijn portfolio voor poetry. Alle feedback is welkom. Het is al ingeleverd, maar nog verre van perfect. Please enjoy :]

I lie you more beautiful
In the morning I’m the first who smiles at you.
Shamelessly I watch how the light strokes your body.
I smile when you warmly embrace me,
I kiss your neck and my lies make you more beautiful.

In the afternoon I accompany you to fancy restaurants
and let us be admired by the others.
Pride colours your voice when you introduce me
and intimately I stroke your skin while I make you more beautiful.

At night we look at the stars together
and I see how you make love to someone else.
I emphasize your charms,
because I lie: you are beautiful.

I never thought the day would come
on which you didn’t need me anymore.
You replaced my pure white elegance with my golden twin
to lighten up your fair neck, and use my nieces for your ears.
After that the key to my door would never be used again.




Vanity

Lazy you hang on the wall,
adoring all the attention
you’re given. You reflect
time with age and fortune
with wrinkles. Unaware
of the hatred in those
who smile upon you.
After all, there are no lies
hidden in your world.
When glancing at yourself
all you see, is eternity
leering at you.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
don’t fall down, you will
curse us all, for 7 years...




Cow
Sometimes I wish
I could write poetry
about a cow
instead of love.
I would praise
her eternal beauty;
her patient character
and honour her warm
hearted assistance.
Only to discover
that the poem was,
once again, about love
and I would have to
start over with glorifying
this black spotted, milk-
giving, grass (re)digesting
love.




Following footsteps

Step by step I’m moving
on, enlarging the distance
between me
and my front door.
Time is my chaperon,
as we both follow the same road
as the day before.
Stubbornly my feet continue

their early journey –
never sure what to expect
around the next corner –
while my mind tries to figure out
this sudden uneasiness.

Just before the end of the street
I stop.
Looking back on the path
I’ve been taking
it suddenly occurs to me;

Shit I forgot my keys.




Death in Seattle

It’s a colourful situation
this darkness in which I exist.
Disposed of, underneath
the earth.

Six slats,
my soft cushions
and my old, favourite pipe;
just out of reach.

Until now I haven’t been allowed
to behold heaven, nor hell. It looks
like my Sunday best will only please
Lord Atheismo. And my family
of bacteria that surround me.

No, even now people don’t stop bothering me,
apart from my direct neighbours perhaps.
‘Cause being dead and buried,
doesn’t mean you can’t have friends
over; thus my webcam.

Though I wonder why
they like to see me rot.




A Sunday’s lunch,

together with the whole family;
it has been a while. Father invited
his mobile phone, exclusively
for this occasion. Best friends those two,
with their loud voices. 5
I have forgotten what his laughter sounds like.

Mother rolls her eyes,
whenever she sees brother’s new flirt.
Brother’s girlfriend tells him, that with her
size 0 she is too fat to eat. Little sis
hides behind her fringe from girlfriend’s
inspecting looks. Quick to smile

I give a toast:
to all the calories! Calling girlfriend
by the name of ex number 5,
by accident. Brother’s swearing is like a mirror
of father’s. Their voices almost identical,
as one asks for silence and the other
for justice. With her crocodile tears girlfriend
states to have had enough.
Little sis seems to drown herself,
underneath the table cloth.

Father screams again for silence
and brother tries to calm girlfriend down,
using the wrong name.
Mother demands peace
from in the kitchen and if accusations
can be called peace treaties,
she gets them served immediately.

Girlfriend stomps. Brother points. I sigh.
Sis keeps quiet. Mother puts the food on the table.
Dig in.