dinsdag 9 december 2014

A degree of patience

contact makes fire
ping pong with words
an art to tackle him

mutual textual pleasure
far past midnight
no normal bedtime

alcohol makes naughty
both in his mind
as in his oral language

she will not hold it against him
she is particularly deaf
she carefully chooses what she hears

she understands between his lines
she looks over his walls
and she opens his doors

he does NOT want this, because
he persists to stay closed and gloomy
he keeps distrust which is selffulfilling

she is a naive opener
he can't forgive her
so he deletes her ....

© MG20141209BSp

http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2014/12/hardt-van-stapel.html

maandag 8 december 2014

Metamorphosis

The men who are seated in front of their self-portrait both wear foam beards. One looks like a person from the Middle East with his beard and dark appearance. The other one has blonde picking in his gray hair.  Both gentlemen surrender themselves to relaxation and they enjoy noticeable. They are confident in the smooth knife.

Mr. hook nose shines happy with himself and he bows his head down until his head is almost banging in the sink. In my mind's eye I watch a horrible video. In horror I imagine that the knife goes down ... luckily it is only water and more foam, shampoo-foam this time, which hit his head. As soon as the head had been shaved and washed it converses in Arabic with his almost slaughterer.

Blonde Gray meanwhile escapes from beneath the bright orange towel, he pulls on his coat and is going to checkout well cut. A new beard takes the seat, I hear him say, 'The sides can be shaved and I want the back also nice and shortly trimmed'. Whatever he desires, but in this weather....: wet snow bursts on the windows. But, if you have a bad hairday, bad weather won't be an issue.

A young woman with long black curly hair is seated in the chair on the opposite wall: the women's side. It is a hairdresser with a men's and women's section. She is eager to have her hair de-curled, she calls it 'styled'. Actually it is just ironed out. A steam iron would undoubtedly generate the same result. She is at ease with her hair-stylist and chatters relaxed. In her hair more and more little squares appear, divided by the comb. Then it is steamed and de-curled in small pieces. Her hair is getting longer. Her nice long hair is cut to lenght and a ponytail has been trimmed, which of course also smooths over her forehead in a graceful arc shape.

This hairstyle strengthens her partial Asian features that were previously not noticed by me. She is a beautiful woman with beautiful arched eyebrows and her light brown almond shaped eyes accentuate her exotic appearance. She sparkles when she gets up from the chair. And she seems quite happy with her new good looks: but she is amazed by the cheerful girl she sees reflected in the windows. Thoughtfully and unsure she asks me: 'Do I look good anyway?'

©MG20141208Hoorn

in Dutch: http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2014/12/metamorfose.html

zondag 7 december 2014

Comfort Chat

it is my consolation
that you save in your heart
your love for me
that there has no iota
been removed
that there has no ounce
been disappeared

that you treat it as
an extraordinarily valuable treasure
from which from time to time
the dust blows away
and is greeted warmly
not as dead relic
but as living proof

donderdag 4 december 2014

First Outdoor Experience with Icy Icewater

My long-haired cat ran excited -not hindered by the refrigerant temperature- outside, to the mortar tub loaded with rainwater, which is the tastiest water, because it is alife. Since this is for him the first winter that he can go outdoors, after 7 years of being a purebred indoorkat, he has much to learn. He has discovered that he is a cat: he has been behind butterflies and has chased frogs through dense ivy plants. Recently he can climb, light as a feather, he runs into a two meter high wall. Now he dashes to the mixing container to find out there is no water in. He checked it twice (unfortunately I didn't have the camera in my hand)

I decided to help him and enter the garden warmly wrapped. I call him, he shows no interest. I break the ice, but still he shows no interest at all. He looks for a while with a look that seems to say "I've already seen it, the water is gone". I decide to catch his interest and let the water splash, I play a bit with a stick in the water and it splashes on the ground. He recognizes that immediately. That is such a nice character of water, it is not only drinkable, but you can also play with it, by splashing, trying to catch it and running through puddles.

So he comes. Somewhat incredulous he doesn't show to be interested, but he can not resist to investigate the splashes and than it appears to be water, so he stands with his front paws on the edge of the mixing container and tries to catch an ice floe ... haha ... if that does not work, he chooses to drink, it is lovely to drink water with long strokes ... what is it good: icy water!








woensdag 3 december 2014

Heart Jubilee


as sweet as honey
your lips touched
the consonants
of my name
deep in your throat
your mouth
made the sounds
you didn't speak
you sang with
the sweetest melody
my name flowed
like nectar
over your lips

I satiated me
licked the nectar
of your lips
I drank your sounds
dulcet tones
a delicate timbre
of sweet-voicedness
the wordchain
that you sang
as only
someone sings
who endlessly
loveth

vrijdag 28 november 2014

Doubt


Idiom of sad

©MG20131222NL

De-Decorate

Fur Lined Boots
rest next to each other
chunky knitted woolen socks
revealing white winter toes

legs step smoothly
gray satin stretch pipes
arms wrestle skillfully
fluffy angora sleeves

soft scratchy warmth
volatilize uninhabited
wristless ticking time
gold next elasticity

white lace lingerie
stretchable porcelain skin
uncovers goosebumps

blank body slides between
clean white and smooth
draped in peace

©MG20131209NL

Wet Africa


©MG20131127SA

Women




Rain in Africa


©MG20131120Swaziland

AFRICA

Grazing horned cows
in
wide green meadows

Yellow weaverbirds
in
woven hanging baskets

Young maize and dust
in-
habit rolling fields

Springfonteyn & Woestalleen
revealing
Lowlands origin

White rhinoceros wandering
along
blue ponds

Antelopes and ostriches
randomly
spread like cattle

Termite monds and jacaranda
color
orange and purple in the green

at treur rivier women weep
&
at blyde rivier women laugh

and God looked through his Window
and
He saw Africa was created well!

©MG20131119SA

24°52′29″S 30°53′29″E

a view through God's Window: over the Lowveld to the border with Mozambique

Pouring

Like water
I flow
I surround you
With
All My love
Soft and wet
My tears
Dry
By Your kisses
Your silent lips
Tell me
Those words
I crave for

MG20131027NL

Ringgg

My old-fashioned doorbell will hang a little, the annoying ringtone penetrates your bones and makes me have goosebumps. The sound suits my old house. I live in a cozy old-fashioned neighborhood where everyone knows each other and the children play safely and happily in each other's gardens. The children happily populate the alleys. These alleys are the roads from the residents.

I open the door and two boys from the neighborhood are standing on my doorstep. Of course I know them from seeing them, but at the moment I just cannot remember their names. One is about eight years old, a handsome boy, his companion is a little younger.
‘Does Ymke live here?’
‘Yes, she does.’
‘Does she play outside?’
‘No, Ymke is gone and when she comes home it's already too late.’
‘Does her friend live beside you?’
I realize that my daughter and the girl next door played with the two boys.  The question overwhelmed  me, so I've responded immediately without thinking first.
‘Yes, that's Ymke's girlfriend!’
I close the door and as I walk into the living room I don’t feel good about it. I decide to call my neighborlady.

‘Hey, it is me, a second ago there were two boys at the door to play with Ymke and they also asked for Rachel, so soon they will come to you too.’
‘Yes, this week they have been here to play with her.’
‘Oh, what did you do?’
‘I thought it was a bit strange, so I stayed with all of them.’
So my neighbor had, just like I did, no good feelings about it. A good idea that she stayed with them, during their playing together. What on earth two tough guys of six and eight are intending with two girls aged four? I'm not sure what to think about it, but I do not get it anyway. To feel even worse I have to admit that the boys are tinted. Their parents have a different hometown from mine, from a Mediterranean country, with Mediterranean views, Mediterranean values, not according to Polderland values. As if that is important, in my mind. I do not know if that matters, but it bothers me that these thoughts are catching me.

When it is dark I get my daughter from the school care. I have cleaned my house when Ymke was gone and I love the shiny black tables and polished wooden floor. In my limited living room it creates light and space. In the small kitchen adjacent to my lovely outdoorplace, I know that all the preparations are made for supper. As usual, I take plenty of time for her. She throws her crafts on the table as she clatters about what she did. I listen when we're together on the couch.

When she has told all her stories and has calmed down I can not but ask the pressing question.
‘Honey, do you ever play with such and such?’
She replies in the affirmative.
‘What do you do with them when you are playing?’
‘That's a secret.’
‘Tell me?’
‘No, it's secret.’
Unfortunately, strange thoughts occur to me. Do loverboys of eight years exist?
‘Honey, you can tell mom anything.’
‘No, I promised it.’
‘But we don’t have secrets for each other.’
She still refuses.
I decide in desperation to a bribe action. Not pedagogically correct.
‘Ymke, do you want an ice cream?’
She does.
‘Then I will exchange with your secret.’
‘Okay, Mommy.’
‘What do you do when you play with the boys?’
‘If they go fishing, I always have to dig out scary animals from their fishingnet.’
Relieved, I see in my mind how the family honor by the two boys being tainted. These young boys were brought up so that they have been bothered by the sense of honor. A sense of honor which forbids little girls to get dirty. A sense of honor which prohibits the weaker sex to show its strength…

©MG20110405NL

Air~f~light

exuberant leaves ballet
a white winged solo sailor
trees sway me

© MG20110205NL

A-way

Now only dust 
touches me
where once 
there were 
voices swirling
my heart 
only experiences 
emptyness

invisible residents 
in my heart
withhold 
from my love
away, are they
by their itinerary
in Asia, Australia 
or AMSterdam

©MG20110119NL

Déjà vu

I drive on the A27 and then I decide to take an exit to drive through Breda, I think it is a shortcut…
But it turns out to be a longcut, although it brings back childhood memories. My grandparents used to live in Breda when I was a school kid. I remember the apartment building, it is close to my shortcut so I take a glimp into town at the right moment. I see a broad alley with on both sides a lane and in the middle a green lawn. These wide traffic area is restricted with high modern white buildings on the left side and modern lower redbricked buildings at the right side. It doesn’t bring anything back in my memory.
I drive behind an expensive black car with a silver line around the windows. Truly a black beauty. It appears that he knows his way around. So I follow him. That decision is getting me quicker out of the local traffic jam. The driver knows where to drive on the left side and when to choose for the right lane. He gets me through the city in no-time and when we get back on the highway I leave him behind me.
I drive along farmland which probably just is seeded. I see brown fields, just ploughed. The signs I pass let my mind fly back to earlier times. My brother used to live close by Bergen-op-Zoom and my current destination is just a few kilometers away from there. I enjoy the foresty environment and when the trees don’t surround me anymore it seems that my new goal is to see my brother and his family.
When he lived here, we saw each other regularly and I enjoyed to play with his little girls. I loved to tease them. His wife is a great cook and his hobby always was a source of curiosity: he bred seahorse, actually he is the most intelligent person in the world if it matters about these elegant sea animals. He is the first fish farmer who was able to not only breed little sea horses but also to keep them alive. He researched the kind of food they needed to stay alive. He caught some food fresh in the nearby sea and some food he bred himself. Me and my children enjoyed listening to his stories and watching his aquaria. There never was a dull moment.
Then I see the old manor. It is an old white beauty. I wonder what kind of rooms they house in the steeples. I drive slowly past the antique building to find a huge parking area around the corner, hidden in the bushes. The temperature still is summery. I walk to the pond where a duck decides if he needs to be afraid of me and has to run or fly or that he can trust me. He decides for the last option. The presence of the duck in the silent water transfers some tranquility. Calmly I enter the maze behind the manor to find my way to the back entrance. It is warm in the building. At the end I am glad I can escape, although it means a long journey back home.
Just being in this acquainted landscape hurt me more than I can tell. The memories are bittersweet. Driving back home late, in the dark, unaware of the people around me in their cars and invisible for them as well the tears land. In my mind I visit my beloved brother and his family. In my mind I see them playing with each other, I see them arguing with their parents and I see them fighting together, wrestling about a jacket or nail polish. I smile, luckily they are totally normal kids, but the girls become beautiful intelligent ladies too. I missed their puberty. The girls attend university , highschool and elementary school in Victoria. They are fluent in English….
Driving further away from my memories help the tears stopping from dropping. I force myself to take notice of the new signs and they bring me back home. My home is so far away from the area my brother choose to live in. it is only 16.811 km to the south east. If I bicycle 4 hours a day and 5 days a week I will be there in a year…

So, where do they live nowadays?

©MG20110420NL