On Being Us

we are quite far from our middlescence
lurking on, pushing on
and stravaging sometimes

let them call us lotus-eaters
and poke fun at our demeanour
let them stare and label us bumbleshoot,
hampering their manna-rains

dudgeon, that’s what they feel
cos we muckrake them,
and they think we love throwing shade,
and that we take pleasure in the spotlight,
penning what the constituents feel

let them rant and continue to
call us age-old lotus-eaters.
we won’t mock their potbellies
and their shabbiness
cos that’s what they seek to trigger

we are still quite far from our middlescence
pressing on, carrying on
and still stravaging sometimes

the beau idéal, that’s not what
we seek to become
but let’s man up,
by pushing on what’s truly right

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Park Spoor Noord

Time and time again has it been told
Colossal words will be redundant
to clarify the fact of the matter
Who are we to judge?
You, men of today,
who trod namby-pamby
you natter around like week-old chicks
and tessellate in smaller circles,
to dine away your burdened souls
You are ebbing away,
not into the annals of history,
but as disappearing meteorites

So who are you to judge?
You, women of today, who thrive
on inoccent anthers,
to invoke a ripple of approval
from the present
you tessellate unlike your men
in bigger circles
to dine away your troubled hearts
You are all saying your final goodbyes to spring,
maybe actually to Park Spoor Noord

Glimmer of Hope

Let us not use words of flattery today
for be all this as it may,
let’s not broach about impending trials,
for all that is known
was once said, heard or eavesdropped,
perhaps in no pretext of greed
or for just a glimmer of hope
to guide the few or the underdogs
who forever talk in lesser tones,
at the crossroads to self and humanity,
let’s not prune the divisions of the past
or instigate new wars, of the soul and the heart
to stir up deceit and vile acts
For it was once said that
there’s no room at all for fumbling,
when you’re living on a razor’s edge
but there’s still a glimmer of hope
in today’s rays.

AMSTERDAM

As the warm ambiance gradually descends into my being
have I been soaked into fairest realms of mankind, perhaps
To delve into a serene melancholy
have I been graced with uttermost receptions
May the seriousness within my eyes
bring me back once more to your fervent embrace

As I sail through the crossroads
amid the water lilies that flower
no language border
May the test of time seek solace from your compassion
Whenever it sees men who wield below reproach
And encounter women with gritty egos
In your fairest embrace do I forever yearn to be