Dear mom

IM: Nel Allaart: ϯ 16-04-2018

As I am talking to you

pondering about life

I feel almost ashamed

because yours will end

we don't speak anymore

about plans, there is no

future awaiting for you

your days are counted

I would like to chat

but answer your silence

and I convey love with

my hands and my eyes

wanting to ease my pain

you said: 'don't bother about it'

but I won't miss you that easy

You live in my heart

https://matcatgo.blogspot.com/2019/04/lieve-mama.html

Unforeseen Fortune

Nel Allaart *10-04-1934





















through your ring and bracelet I see
your wrinkly skin
as background

your scarf around my shoulders
is like your caring arm
touching hot

on my wall your ancestors as
treasurers protected
in moody sepia

expanding on an unknown arsenal
causes sacrilege
as treasure diggers

apart from unprecedented splendor, we dig
also a lot of love and we watch
through your eyes

© Mattie Goedegebuur

https://matcatgo.blogspot.com/2019/04/onvoorzien-fortuin.html

Words are like Water

If I slowly want to string

all kinds of letters

on the spelling cable

to form words

I cannot just grab

because not all vowels fit

seamlessly next to each other

not to mention

consonants

If I could write texts indiscriminately

spontaneously and at will

without spelling correctly

if I could compile my own language

then I challenge you

to express my sounds aloud

or tell my intention

chọta okwu ahụ ọzọ

kwaye uza kufumana igama

hallgassa meg a hangot

va siz ovozni bilasiz

whakarongo ahau te wai kapi

sempre amaras a auga

kuula seda muusikat alati

find the word again

and you will get a name

listen to the sound

and you will know the voice

listen to the water

and you will love water

always listen to this music

©Mattie Goedegebuur

Prohibited to flourish

all your words flow thoughtlessy

over your lips

wriggle almost through the bars

of sectarianism

you restrain yourself and you recall

your words

flowers budding in your heart

shall not flourish

in reticence you think you enjoy

the scent of silence

but it is the briny succulent flavor

of imagination

DaD

for five years I have met you
only
in the mirror

for five years I lack your
wise counsel and
have to unravel life alone

for five years I feel your
silence, peacefullness and tranquility
now I search ...

half a century of meetings
more than fifty years to
listen to advice

I got the rest of my time to welcome
silence, peacefullness and tranquility
in my soul

IM; My dad who passed away 5 years ago today

Afterparty

Don't be too big for your boots up there

from all the received tribute,

boozing in your remembrance and

a poetry collection for you alone.

Pleasantly, we have already begun

this in your life, we only intensify.

There ought to be an abundance of

magical words still to come.

You've been reminiscing about your

life. The epiphany is yet to come, that

you live strong, in all of our hearts. You really

should have written your own preface.

Heaven't you hidden a legacy of yourself?

Than we can play treasure hunt and sip

recollection-beer with your text.

Dutch version: http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2016/10/nazuipen.html

Salty Tale

You are nibbling my toes

so soft and ceaselessly

you withdraw and return

like a whirlwind.

Your storytelling is enormous

you whisper the history

of humanity in

my ears.

You tell in allegretto

and continuously

than soft and cheerful

thunderous and powerful.

You foam words are

around me with your

thrust and your sweet

salty tenderness.

Nonviolent you hug me

and gladly I let you

embrace me.

in Dutch: 

- http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2016/09/zilt-relaas.html

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEcEoP0Z6oI&feature=share

B-day preps

she walks through the sunset glow firmly high-heeled
on the way to the stores with a jaunty dangling bag
to refresh family and friends at her birthday

her bag is still empty but her head is already loaded
with exotic dishes in her mind she checks
recipes so she can treat them unforgettable

judging taste and smell she walks through the isles
with her feet continuing on autopilot while deftly
dodging obstacles she approves the goods

in her mind she kneads and mixes and it smells in her kitchen
by precious dishes full of love her steps are light and airy
she hurries elated like a whipped cream dessert

she is pondering about how to surprise her guests in a tasty way
with a delightful dish joyfully and lovingly prepared
she steps firmly forward with a fluttering skirt

 'Red Steps'  Han de Leeuwerk

Summer Day

wet drops nourish the soggy land

which fuzzily resists to the sun

they cause a soft frame

for my sleepy face

red wisps above the horizon

indicate early surrender

of morning mist in sunshine

like my silky hair

the delicate morning sun shines

on translucent young green

colorful and cheerful vulnerable

like your young doe

the languid afternoon sun smells

like satisfaction and arranges

wild purple chicory and hay

as a soft boar nest

the sinking red evening glow

looks back pleased to a summer day

filled with sunshine and love

heartfelt warmth between you and me

in Dutch:
http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2016/07/zomerse-dag.html

Iris

some hearts stay young

clothes will support

wrinkles disappear

behind glass and colour

dressed in fine array

by shapes and smiles

her own choice

in bright jewelry

sets an example

not to grow old

not to become childlike

but to enjoy life

dressed every second

to the fullest

some flowers florish

forever

6 decades

her pale skin hangs

loosely to her bones

but in her eyes

it is still bright

and her voice

is old-fashioned warmly

and still untouched

just as her love

she looks optimistically

to her visitors

she knows she is loved

so she can travel quietly

the last part

still surrounded

by loved ones

at her bed

in Dutch: http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2016/04/6-decennia.html

Being in Progress

Work in Prgress, Han de Leeuwerk

Focussing in the distance

her mind far away from

her body. No shivering

although her clothes are

almost caressing her when

sliding off the soft skin.

The burgundy and golden

dress just fingertipped

saved from the floor.

Her world is exploding

the colours of pleasure

fill her spirit with euphoria

and she seems to swim

in the sea of passion.

She awaits her dearest

and is prepared to

dwell in her memory

as long as it takes.

©MG20160412BS

Passing Goodbye

I say farewell

to the sorrow

in my heart

that comes too

when loving you

it hurts like hell

I say goodbye

to the grief

that engraved

my soul by

not being chosen

it makes me cry

I'll walk away

with dripping edges

from a shredded

existence

will you heal me

with your choice?

©Mattie Goedegebuur 20160326

No time

no time

to reflect

as the years

slosh over us

as salty waves

no time

to prioritize

to lick salty wounds

together until they

taste sweet

no time

no realitize

for the two of us

to dive into

the deep infinity

salty waves

roll death in

tackled eights

locked

in themselves

©MG20160225BS

Pollinated

enchanting pheromons

lure me to earth

your opened petals

are my landingstrip

almost weightless

I tiptoe on your skin

with volatile touch

I rub your stamen

searching for the fuel

on which my soul survives

I suck your nectar

I leave you shuddering

while I continue on my way

and glide away from you

©MG20160124BS

PS if you want to read it in Dutch:
http://matcatgo.blogspot.nl/2016/01/bestoven.html

To my beloved one

Oh Wystan dear, don't dwell upon

those shiny stars, they haven't won.

No-one ever could tame your heart

tear into pieces, fall apart.

You have to lock away your love

for the heavenly bodies from above.

Because you learn to love deep black

and hide the love, the love you lack.

The equal love between us two

needs no-one covering for you.

You'll always keep me in your life

so silence is no sacrifice.

In spirit and in flesh we share

a unique love that is so rare.

Sleep well my love, sleep well and rest

I'm in the pocket at your breast.



response to W.H. Auden
The More Loving One (1957)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EXdeHucf4X0

Plaster

you stopped my life

put me in a cocoon

you gently caught me

in tender spun love

my broken wings

cannot carry the load

of a burdensome heart

I am earthbound

my hopeless tears

freeze until milestones

of my stationary life

they splint my being

my withered craving

to cuddle up to your warmth

is a defleshed desire

to let my spirit

die of starvation

your love cures

melts my steadyness

so I rise above myself

and it embalms my soul

I love you thoroughly

©MG20150729BS

√

Beauty is insight

the pure words

that you write

the fine sentences

which you send

with a wonderfully intention

exceed highly

the revitalized beauty

that I will become

by your beauty

which I reflect

in my cristalline heart

through the gash

you are visible

for them who

may see you:

my beloved

thank you for

your purifying love

I will cleanse myself

you are my sponge

and my sincere soap

fresh, soft and taintless

will you polish me

until pristine/immaculate* white

*which one fits better?

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

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