A Happy New Year!

We laugh and thank each other --


for the bygone year.


Gelukkig Nieuwjaar!Frohes neues Jahr!
Lachend danken we elkaar --Wir danken einander für's --

voor het oude jaar.vergangene Jahr.

Poem H6039
Amsterdam, 2026-01-08
My struggle 1. A Death in the Family (Karl Ove Knausgård) - 2009
Autobiographical novel "Min Kamp. Første bok", part 1, paragraph 3 - January 1st, 1985
Collection: Leaving
Tribute to: Knausgård, Karl Ove 
 

A friend, familiar

as the dog: a compliment --


and contempt as well.


Huisvriend zijn, vertrouwdHausfreund sein, vertraut
als de hond: een compliment --wie der Hund: ein Kompliment --

en minachting ook.und auch Missachtung.

Poem S1198
Amsterdam, 2021-07-06
Nuns and Soldiers (Iris Murdoch) - 1980
Novel
Collection: Longing and Loss
Tribute to: Murdoch, Iris 
 

I cannot do more

than just accept your friendship --


as a piece of luck.


Meer kan ik niet doen,Deine Freundschaft kann
dan jouw vriendschap aannemen --ich doch nur akzeptieren --

als een buitenkans.als ein Glückstreffer.

Poem H2270
Airplane Amsterdam-Marseille, 2018-09-14
For God's sake, pious one, my hand offers my heart! (Hafez) - 1350
Ghazal (Ode) 5
Collection: Em Brace
Tribute to: Hafez 
 

Zywa Friends, Apart Together

Please, let me
do my job, don't
interfere, then it will be

finished sooner and better
I know how, I can do it
you may think about it

aren't we friends
we laugh
at economists and big bosses

and at each other
the most
and if we wish

we swim together
to the other side
that we dare to dream

Poem 1206
Amsterdam, 2017-03-13
Collection: Greeting from before
 

Zywa Wean Di

My friends live as neighbours
a second away from me
I can see if they are home

in the Wean Di
that encrusting tissue
of shifting hope

that drama of our lives
as a game of skill:
I am me and I

is us, a world full
of bridges between kindred spirits
But the roads are falling apart

Crossing physical borders
we travel safely around
in our filter of friendship

each with our noses wherever
the wind blows and with our chosen quiffs
and feathers on the wings of We and I

Poem 973
Amsterdam, 2017-01-22
Collection: Blown sand
 

Zywa q.

I live in a half-home
hours from the city
in a rubble village
from which the youth is leaving
and where I don't hear language
that speeds up my pulse

I recognize the coats
of my neighbours and I think
that they are decent people
strangers that I greet
and from whom I don't want
to know more than from myself

It's all clearly
a question about friendship
whether there are doors
which I open myself
and what choices
I turn over in my mind

Poem 829
Amsterdam, 2016-11-12
Quaestion >> q. >> ?
Collection: I am
 

Zywa
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