Zywa Attached

It goes up and down for me
I embrace life and let it go

because it has no future
I crossed off impossibilities
and little concrete remained

But love
For myself, my desire
to live, the people

around me, yes, even for
time and again, their clumsiness

And I don't want to miss any of it
Except when I feel a little better
and get annoyed again

at road users and so on
who act substandard, which is
an unnecessary impoverishment

Yes, it goes up and down
for me, since I have cancer

Poem 6087
Amsterdam, 2026-07-19
In my body (Floor Rusman) - 2026
Series of autobiographical articles "In mijn lichaam", part 2, "Annoyance", in the NRC of July 18th, 2026
Collection: Pending rain
Tribute to: Rusman, Floor 
 

Being very ill,

you learn to die, and also --


what it is to live.


Wie erg ziek is, leertWer schwer krank ist, lernt
om te sterven, en nog meer --zu sterben, und noch viel mehr --

wat het leven is.was das Leben ist.

Poem H6120
Amsterdam, 2026-02-27
Collection: More
 

Zywa How small

How small can life still
be interesting?
How small can my world
still be big enough?
How small can I

make the pain and
remain clear
remain in shape
remain a human being
with the little

that still functions
miraculously
in my body
in my head
in social care?

Can anything cute up
the days
myself and
my future?
Perhaps you?

Poem 5748
Amsterdam, 2025-12-13
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

The disease turns out

to be benign, suddenly --


I have time again!


Pff, de ziekte blijktDie Krankheit erweist
goedaardig te zijn, ineens --sich als gutartig, plötzlich --

heb ik weer veel tijd!hab ich wieder Zeit!

Poem H6017
Amsterdam, 2025-11-17
Collection: Heart's Delight
 

Slipping through the snow

I bring a little life to --


the dying person.


Slippend door de sneeuwGlitschend durch den Schnee
breng ik een brood, wat leven --bringe ich etwas Leben --

naar de stervende.zu der Sterbende.

Poem H5951
Amsterdam, 2025-09-18
The snow was high and is was thawing. Frozen snow (Frida Vogels) - 2014
Verse "De sneeuw lag hoog en het dooide. Opgevroren sneeuw", published in "Diary 1977-1978" - August 28th, 1978, Bologna (on the death of Valeria Decimi)
Collection: Helices
Tribute to: Vogels, Frida 
 

I feel sick, I am

feverish and dream around --


over barren fields.


Ik voel me beroerd,Mir ist schlecht, fiebrig
koortsig droom ik rond over --träume ich herum über --

verdorde velden.verdorrte Felder.

Poem H5244
Amsterdam, 2025-02-10
Seventy years and more (Basho) - 1694
Poem by Basho (1643-1694), on the day of his death, included in the 1986 collection "Japanese Death Poems", compiled by Yoel Hoffmann: "Tabi ni yande / yume wa kareno o / kakemeguru" ("On a journey, ill: / my dream goes wandering / over withered fields")
Collection: Over
Tribute to: Basho 
 

Zywa Love song

My trumps played
The last ace

is not upright
Fretting how
to conjure up a handicap

from untreatableness
conjuring it up from
the marvellous world

It costs me a lot
of energy and time
in which I live little

I caress the fine decoration
of my magic wand, aim
the point at myself

Live!
what I can live, not playing all
or nothing, not losing myself

Live what I can
otherwise I won't be able
to let go

Poem 5580
Amsterdam, 2024-12-09
With an image of the Tarot card 'Ace of Wands'
Collection: Dearme
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Spring Tragedy

Wanting to enjoy
everything, forever
wanting and having
to celebrate, I sing
your name

A procession
In the past it was with goats
the billy goats, satyrs, people
who celebrate, I sing
your name

You are not there
Your sighs are not
in my arms, and no
liberating laugh, I sing
your name

Poem 5566
Amsterdam, 2024-10-16
Maria turns 42
'Tragedy' = (he-) goat song, satyr-song during the procession of the Thracian and Macedonian Dionysus Festival, in which, in comic scenes, vines were planted and the beginning of spring was celebrated
Collection: Pending rain
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Refuge-ruins

Hoping for a miracle
that I don't believe in
an extension, being able

to do what ordinary people do
on ordinary days, eat
and not be sad

Getting stronger, restoring
myself, no longer needing
the names of my diseases

Only my nose is healthy
puts me in my own stink
smells where it's going

Pigeons coo more plaintively
cawing jackdaws scratch in me
Missy turns around me

The city is full of life
rushing past the ruins
which still know who they were

Poem 5569
Amsterdam, 2024-10-16
Collection: Pending rain
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Knowing you're going

to fall from the narrow ridge --


above the abyss.


Weten dat je gaatZu wissen, dass du
vallen, vanaf de richel --fallen wirst, vom Felsvorsprung --

boven de afgrond.über dem Abgrund.

Poem H4979
Amsterdam, 2024-10-14
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Turning point

The Discovery, first by the doctor
then by me, my journey
along the keywords: - Harmony
(disturbed) - Understanding (my condition

could not be understood with all the
explanations and reasonable assumptions
and my intuition is blind)
- the Order (lost, everything
under the sign of the end - negative)

Growth - only Care
- and Attention, like when
my life began, but now I need
to entertain myself, go
on a diet and abandon

what I am no longer capable of, I need
Cleanliness, Calm, and Routine
need to understand the familiar
differently and drift along
in good times and in bad

keep noticing
the wonders and surrender
to the Power in which everything is
Connected

Poem 5542
Amsterdam, 2024-07-08
Collection: Metamorphic body
 

Zywa Springtail Blues

My metabolism stagnates
and then there is even more awaiting
Then there is much to wish for

My tail goes limp
I no longer jump
and no longer feast
on the wonders

I become malnourished
my skin is coming loose
My friend gets worried
as he caresses me

My thoughts, too, are thinning out
Into ghosts, into a horror
of how it may end

And through it all: the bombs
on waterworks and hospitals
There are many alarm signals
and no shelters

Poem 5345
Amsterdam, 2023-10-20
It was Maria's birthday this week
Russian bombs on Ukraine, Israeli bombs on the Gaza Strip
Collection: Pending rain
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Who am I? These hands,

feet and teeth, but no longer --


is there a middle.


Wie ben ik? DezeWer bin ich? Diese
voeten, handen en tanden --Füße, Hände und Zähne --

en geen midden meer.und keine Mitte.

Poem S1810
Amsterdam, 2023-06-28
House (Johanna Pas) - 2023
Terminal cancer / Gender identity
Poem "Huis" (collection "WAS of hoe ik mijn huid verloor")
Collection: Over
Tribute to: Pas, Johanna 
 

What is left to write?

My sweet body is drowning --


with empty letters.


Wat nog te schrijven?Was soll ich schreiben?
Mijn lieve lichaam verdrinkt --Mein süßer Körper ertrinkt --

met lege brieven.mit leeren Briefen.

Poem S1797
Amsterdam, 2023-06-20
An empty postman drowns in the country road (Hans Lodeizen) - 1949
Poem "Een lege postbode verdrinkt in de landweg"
Collection: Moist glow
Tribute to: Lodeizen, Hans 
 

Zywa I learned to laugh

In the glory days of K-1
nobody could touch me
Life smiled at me

I wasn't a child anymore
I learned to laugh
and I could handle everyone

The galas, watching and being watched
the tough friends, many things to do
The world was mine

The helplessness, the past
no longer mattered
I learned to laugh

     but my strength is gone
     my body often helpless again
     unease makes me drowsy

     everything comes back
     at the wrong moments
     as if it is happening now

     If I don't laugh anymore
     I am dead, or almost
     the world is almost closed

     I learned to laugh
     from loneliness, mama
     I was so alone

Poem 4625
Amsterdam, 2022-08-24
Collection: Bruises
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Well, I just tick off

what I can't do anymore --


for the rest I live.


Ik vink gewoon afIch hake einfach
wat ik niet meer mag of kan --ab, was ich nicht mehr tun kann --

voor de rest leef ik.den Rest lebe ich.

Poem H3236
Amsterdam, 2022-03-24
Collection: On living on [2]
 

I can't go ahead,

after this nothing else comes --


there is no stage V.


Ik kan niet vooruit,Ich kann nicht weiter,
hierna komt er niets meer --hiernach kommt leider nichts mehr --

geen stadium V.kein Stadium V.

Poem S1354
Amsterdam, 2022-03-16
Stage IV (Sander Kollaard) - 2015
Composition "Stadium IV"
Lung cancer
Collection: Germ Substance
Tribute to: Kollaard, Sander 
 

Zywa Framily catches snatches

As if I were old, I bury
friends from the hospital
We who remain take a quick glance
from above

to see what it will look like
when we are carried ourselves
Our aversion is being very much
alive, still wanting so much

I resist, sometimes cry
to keep from dying of despair
Framily catches snatches
and doesn't understand me

The good hours are bittersweet
always over quickly, and
afterwards I fear
they were the last

Poem 4255
Amsterdam, 2021-12-25
Collection: Bruises
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Belonging [2]

My body does not know
I have my birthday, it doesn't know yet
what will be working today, and what not

It tingles. It hurts.
Where do I get the strength from?
the Force, the Force

Scatterbrain, are you awake
here on the edge of the bed
what do you think, can I get up?

Hello Missy Kittypee
why don't you say anything, come
and sing a song for me?

Let the phone lie over there
I know I am kind
if I'm fit without pain

Poem 4015
Noordwijk, 2021-10-13
For Maria Godschalk, on her birthday
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Keep seeing who I am

Between pain and numbness
there are faces
at my bedside
and memories

still understandable
but accompanied by chances
that dropped out, and mistakes
unsatisfactorily explicable

They change over time
also the fondest, with sex
the feast and the beauty
of my body

charming and fertile
holy by nature
Hold me, touch me
keep seeing who I am

Poem 3970
Amsterdam, 2021-10-01
Collection: On living on [1]
 

Without happily

ever after: already --


I feel a distance.


Kom, zonder het langKein glückseliges
en gelukkig voel ik al --Ende: ich fühle bereits --

afstand tussen ons.Distanz zwischen uns.

Poem S1244
Amsterdam, 2021-09-15
Serious illness
Collection: Changing Times
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

It is a hard job

against cancer, a day's work --


playing for more time.


Het is hard werkenDie Tagesarbeit
tegen kanker, een dagtaak --gegen Krebs ist schwer, vielleicht --

om tijd te winnen.gewinne ich Zeit.

Poem S1218
Amsterdam, 2021-08-21
Collection: On living on [1]
 

Zywa White tongue

Not the war makes the warrior
but his peace
with the ending

     My gates are open
     energy is flowing in
     my face shines from it

     I live, I don't distract you
     with golden hair, I am
     life, bald and unadorned

Not: I survive with hope
but with inner peace
with the ending

     I don't leave me
     I don't withdraw
     in pain and sorrow

     I let life flow in and out
     I'm standing in the light
     in which we find each other

I am not here as a sick person
but in my hard-fought peace
with the ending

     My chest breathes up and down
     my dear body hurts
     I radiate it

     With hot water I wash
     off flakes and sighs
     and I stretch out, cautiously

Poem 3891
Amsterdam, 2021-07-15
Chemo
Qigong = Life energy-mastery
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk, Honglin L 
 

Zywa In the hospital

We kiss

That changes everything
who we are, and
what we think is important

to exchange
So we meet more and more often
We do as much as possible together

With the whole family
we use to plan
the birthdays and weddings

Then we celebrate life, and also
there is a funeral
from time to time

The vicissitudes of life
you learn to know
in the hospital

On the operating table
I reflect gratefully
What is it about?

------------------------------------

What is it about?
I reflect gratefully
on the operation table

In the hospital
you learn to know
the vicissitudes of life

From time to time
there is a funeral
Then we celebrate life, and also

the birthdays and weddings
we use to plan
with the whole family

We do as much as possible together
So we meet more and more often
to exchange

what we think is important
who we are, and
that changes everything

We kiss

Poem 3552
Amsterdam, 2021-03-09
Retrograde poem
Collection: Life line 
 

Zywa In my rooms

Suddenly it was different
the toggles turned over
and I was picked up

I brace myself, fallen through
something, a membrane
between order and overpower

Carry me away, I want heavens
of pastel and gray after the outings
in my room and in the hallway
not a dropped ceiling

Back home, in the light
of my own windows
between the plants, the pillar
and the post of pain

thinly covered with anxious dreams
in which I don't want to be snowed under
no matter how tight the ties squeeze

In pyjamas I suffer myself
clamping my cup in my hands
I won't let go

Poem 3273
Amsterdam, 2020-11-10
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Even when I can't,

I want to participate --


Life doesn't wait, does it?


Ook als het niet kan,Auch wenn ich nicht kann,
wil ik naar buiten, meedoen --möchte ich raus, ins Leben --

Het leven wacht nooit.das niemals wartet.

Poem H2740
Amsterdam, 2020-06-19
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Dear bodyhome

Dear bodyhome, you're everything, don't stop
Hold on, keep going, please do not give up
Just tell me what you want and I'll obey
it's coming, it's already on its way

Dear bodyhome, I do know what I say
Not all or nothing, but a middle way
I will adapt to your capacity
let us continue in sincerity

Dear bodyhome, please trust me, I implore
there'll be no lonely worries anymore
You are the master, I'm your personnel
together we shall manage very well

Poem 2113
Amsterdam, 2019-02-22
Dear landlord (Bob Dylan) - 1967
Song (album "John Wesley Harding"), sung by Joan Baez on the 1968 album "Any Day Now"
Collection: Great Flow 
Tribute to: Dylan, Bob; Baez, Joan 
 

Zywa Stinking remix

No minor issue can be made
of the stinking discomfort
my body has become
because of the remix with pills
trying out
better versions of me

With a mouthful of Latin
the doctor lets everyone
speechless with bated breath
in the danger zone
of my sweat and gases
have a look

into the cold beak
between my legs
There I lie
thinking of the cloud
of friends around my bed
in which I relieve my soul

Poem 1533
Amsterdam, 2017-09-03
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa What can I do?

Ill again. Panic
of falling into pieces
in my own skin

Trying all I can
to hold myself
Searching for weapons
and dreaming of ruses
Waking up without

Walking the problem out
the door, having to rest
somewhere in the grass, seeing blood
well up from an abrasion

Taking a baffled look at it
My worthless body full
of fresh blood, full of strength
There is still so much to do

what I thought I could
postpone, time and attention
for friends in the waiting
rooms of my eager life

Come on, I live, I can
bleed and be ill, take care
of others, I live –
no measured hours

Poem 1377
Amsterdam, 2017-05-25
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Hand in my blood

I'm stuck, how did I get here?

How do I get out, who will help me
accompany me, if need be just
in the spirit, to the Golden Gate
with free birds in the glimpse
of the light between its doors?

Who feels my love tugging
at the nets that connect us?

Who will wash the hard crusts
from my body, kiss my wounds
into flowers as the most beautiful
dress I ever wore, who will
put his hand in my blood

as a heart?

Poem 1345
Amsterdam, 2017-05-11
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Before I jump

Since that day I

old striped out tiger
in a young body

stand in another light
that undresses me, inexorably

untying the laces of my certainties
unbuttoning my habits and dreams

kissing open my eyes
to the beauty

of the abyss
and with a soft hand

taking off my immortality
The abyss isn't an abyss

if I fly and you
accept my hand: look at me

I'm looking at you
standing in another light

since that day when I was so happy
to be still alive – I am

after deep sighs, ready
to jump

Poem 981
Amsterdam, 2017-01-28
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Morgana, my fay

Between the hard facts I look
for a passage
The sun blinds me
delivers me to the wind

Come, sweet fay of the sea
around misty Avalon, come
then I will be fine
which I never doubt

except at night
when I would like to rest
and sweat fears, tired, so tired
but too vigorous to give up

so I put on nice clothes
to go out and celebrate
to reinvent myself
and connect with the world

Poem 937
Amsterdam, 2017-01-06
Morgana / Morning, from: Mori-gena = sea-born
Fata Morgana = Fay/Fairy Morgana
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Soham

It is a beautiful autumn day
the park splendidly strewn

with spiny balls, they proliferate
everywhere, I can't watch it

The bad news attacks
I withdraw inside

the walls, close the gates
Leave me alone, let me fight

the facts on my worldwide desktop
as the days go by and I am uncertainly

taking steps in the dance to the final party
letting my I flow in, slowly

exhaling It to be whole, it goes
naturally, it goes by naturally

but now a pill and then
I'll eat and know that outside is inside

- a beautiful day

Poem 864
Amsterdam, 2016-12-03
Mantra So - Hum (I - It)
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

Zywa Blossoms in Waterwheel

This street in wonderland
a lane of pink clouds
must be the end

of the normal world, happiness
begins here and over there
must be the gate

but I don't want to go there yet
Let me walk slowly and enjoy
trees full of pink cakes

Let me fly away
from pain and nausea
from the holy trinity

of my thoughts, my
organs and the rest, my
despair, grief, and fear

of the unbearable
Let me walk in the clouds
Let the blossoms keep raining

Poem 861
Amsterdam, 2016-12-02
Watermaal (Waterwheel) is a municipality in Brussels–Capital region
Collection: On living on [1]
Dedicated to: Maria Godschalk 
 

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