Zywa

Old sore praises it-

self for its best intentions --

Own glory comes first.



Oud zeer prijst zichzelf	Alter Schmerz lobt sich
om beste bedoelingen --	für die besten Absichten --

Eigen glorie eerst.	die eigene Pracht.

Poem S2383
De Koog, 2024-09-25
Novels by Renate Dorrestein - 1996
The subject of Renate Dorrestein's novels is: old sore
Collection: Lack
Tribute to: Dorrestein, Renate

Is it narcissism

if you love every person?

Love them as yourself?



Is het narcisme	Ist es Narzissmus,
als je iedereen liefhebt?	alle Menschen zu lieben?

Liefhebt als jezelf?	Lieben wie dich selbst?

Poem H4921
De Koog, 2024-09-20
Requiem for a friend (Han Voskuil) - 2002
Novel "Requiem voor een vriend", chapter 1951-1956, March 7th, 1955 - Jan Bruggeman ('Breugelman')
Collection: Elude
Tribute to: Voskuil, Han

In the beautiful

merging of lovers, love turns --

out to be self-love.



In de versmelting	In der Verschmelzung
van minnaars blijkt de liefde --	erweist sich deine Liebe --

zelfliefde te zijn.	als Eigenliebe.

Poem H4706
Amsterdam, 2024-06-15
Victory City (Salman Rushdie) - 2023
Novel "Victory City" [Vijayanagar >> Bisnaga, based on Fatehpur Sikri ('Victory City', near Agra), the capital of Emperor Abdul-Fath Jalaluddin 'Akbar' (= 'the Great' >> 'Akbar the Great')], part 3 Glory, chapter 15
Collection: Wind
Tribute to: Rushdie, Salman

Zywa Back from not having been away

At home on the couch
I crumple the edges
of the puke bag

The old times, the old songs
the excuses for the postponement
of the promised future

are back, back
from not having been away

We're still at home
in Old Man State, our
freedom was a dream

There are no more musicians
and no more beautiful
girls from Ukraine

The iron cold is back, back
from not having been away

Poem 5234
Amsterdam, 2023-06-09
While my guitar gently weeps (Paul McCartney, The Beatles) - 1968
Song (album "The Beatles" / "The White Album")
Collection: Lilith's Powers
Tribute to: McCartney, Paul; The Beatles

Zywa Boy's dreams [1]

Men remain boys, but
sometimes boys are men
when it comes down to it
Then fear makes them brave
awakening their minds, with an emergency
grasp of maturity

Rich people's sons buy themselves free
and betrothed also manage
to get money, so that
only the poor remain
and some rabble, happy with a salary
sometimes hoping for booty, riches

and women of course, women
have to acquiesce
in worry, fear and sorrow
suffering the pain of men
their frustration, their lust
their dreams

Poem 4466
Amsterdam, 2022-05-02
Collection: Migration

Zywa I left

Increasingly sophisticated
you know your feelings
so interesting
come and see

how open and vulnerable
you like to show yourself
inviting women
to live in you

You have so much to offer
that demands their attention
in your home, but
it's uncomfortable there

cold and hard beside the sofa
on which they pamper you
and you, satisfied
call that love

Poem 2135
Amsterdam, 2019-02-28
Collection: Froend

Zywa Fountain of love

I can see it
in the double-panes:
people carry themselves
on their backs

Their shirts are tighter
than their skin, they look
more proudly than a peacock
and parade

with self-bound hands
in the smell of their dry-gassy
gut bacteria, they don't see it
as their problem

that people are tense
hounded by society
eventually cast out and shunned
sometimes homeless, surviving

on the wet coins
from the old fountain of love
And I see myself
with my dear conscience

on my back
participating
just enough
to keep what I have

Poem 1979
Amsterdam, 2018-12-13
Collection: Blown sand

Zywa Dearme [1]

I undress and see nothing of me
in the clothes neatly laid out
next to each other to put back on

underwear is underwear, trousers trousers
if there is anything special about it
it is just that

there are no marks on it, I don't advertise
I unstitch myself free
pick the lint from my clothes

out of my navel, the belly is cool, I feel
myself, breast is breast, cheek cheek
but my belly, that's me

my hands know it
better than my eyes
that do recognise my face

as mine, everywhere
where I am, nowhere for sale
but it is veiled now

I am tired, I want rest
having nothing to do with anyone
and still

love myself

Poem 1880
Amsterdam, 2018-10-21
Collection: Dearme

Zywa It's bleeding

I know
fathers fail
as the great man

who knows the outside world
with whom you are safe, and
happy when he is proud of you

who takes you with him and shows you
the way in his domain, and step by step
you begin to see that it is different

That doesn't count at first
but suddenly it's over
Then you no longer listen

to your pet name, you fight
scratches in your soul
cracks in the calluses

It bleeds when you scratch it
Until you can breathe freely
and the wounds close

Poem 1468
Amsterdam, 2017-08-01
Collection: Lilith's Powers

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