After I wrote this, I saw the words zig zag everywhere
Click on it (and again) to enlarge twice.
I wrote this one in the cafeteria of the hospital, right after I met my grandma for the last time. In Dutch, but you can find the translation below. Click to enlarge
In the light of death, all is what it is
A glass of water with granules for example
The step of the foot of each person remains but a whole step
Darkness is dark, and light is light
In the light of death, life is dirty and pure
Unpolishable, it drags itself along, as if a fight about being
Of only itself
In the light of death, love is true
Undeniably, it glows up and turns off through
To the core of all little beings
Big and tiny can be together in the light of death
For no comparison falls but death
Only fear knows big and small but does not eat death’s cookie to crumble
In the light of death, black turns white and white turns black
Just like on a squared coat
I decided to post my poems long ago. First, I thought I’d type them out. But I think it makes more sense to take a picture of them. No editing. I usually write poems when I’m angry. I’m always amazed at the velocity at which they come out. All are written in one go. Expect a few more in the comming weeks.
I wrote this one over a year ago.
I wrote this text originally for the Ajna forum on January 5th 2010. I have adjusted it a little.
The beginning? There never was. A misconception of the human intellect. Since she is our home, since she gives us ground to live, let’s start with earth’s awakening.
Rocks, fire, water and air; she brought their spirits into one. Little ones started spiralling, exchanging and flowing along. In the water first, but they quickly reached dry ground.
Plants, rooted in their standing place, breathing light and air, eating rocks and drinking water, developed the spirit of the ground. They vaporize earth mass. By growing and dancing in the wind, they have become our base. Their roots to earth are ours. They are our OM, our chakra of the ground.
Walking out of the waters came a new kind of being. Nerved. Choose well or die, that was its quest. Select by moving around. But use the earth, eat the plants, be attached to her. And reproduce: enjoy! Senses arose to help this choice. So developed the sacral chakra.
When ground was filled, a limit reached, a limit to the growth. The ego had to come in play, the will to overcome. Trees fought for light, beasts for terrain. Among, between, there was war to teach us where to stop. Struggling for survival, power raised, the Plexus Solaris got its form.
Among wars and fights, Gaias bigger ones found the power of communal love. In groups, we could reach greater heights. The work was in the heart. The knowledge of all cells: “Together we are one” now grew among the bigger ones. Cultures formed, dividing what to eat. Groups that loved, avoiding fall-apart. Herds arose, bees unite and lions lied in prides.
Now that battle was not the only option anymore, and animals and trees stayed close, new ways had to be found. A realm of signals was discovered in our throats. Noises, charged with meaning travelled up and down the lands. Civilizations attained new levels, by telling and by listening. Behold the birds, the apes and ants. We slowly formed new minds. And then came the morale.
Humans rose, with in their heads: mind´s eye. They killed, destroyed, controlled it all except them very selves. With time they learned about the fish and trees. They learned about the heart and soul, they did it for us all. They saw the past, and that which is to come. They saw it two, they saw it one, they saw that all at once.
And now, when new ones are conceived, they have to live it all again. From little fused cell they grow to creature with a brain. They leave the womb into the void and start: motionless base. They eat, they sense, deny and love, learn speech and thought: get lost.
When one learns, all learn, even if so slow. Together with the cats and birds, together with the plants. Together with the rocks and flames, with water and the air. Together we are Gaia’s growth. And then, maybe one day a creature comes that grows a crown, and opens heavens’ earth new ground.
When you’re sailing on dreams, there are no rules. No laws. Just dreams to obey. There is no time. Everything joint. But that does not mean you can always join the breeze. There are puzzles to be solved, to wander the untold.
But watch out! Nothing is what it seems, when you’re sailing on dreams. To live in danger may be safer than was taught. There are no lessons. No fathers or sons or brothers, nor a girl or a boy. No leaders or crowd, but the sailors of dreams. Dreams are not easy to sail. When you think you do, you are far from it. And when you do sail a dream, you are closer to the black abyss than believed is healthy for you. Hold on to a dream and you crash. If you let go, you drown. There is no good way to sail on a dream. Drowning is common for sailors of dreams. And burning. Being shot in the face. Poisoned. Crushed under rocks. We lose everything all the time.
Imagine how big your children’s children’s children are now. Little gates to an enormous world. We need a telescope to see that from here. Fireworks of inflated worries burst a sailor’s dream. Trees’ roots grow into it’s skull and become a pulsing brain. Up, up, up.
Catch a dream and it catches you. Zins you in your sleep. Kins you in your creep. Watch out! Or it bins you in your deep. Know where you go, when you’re sailing on dreams, or the slow of the flow will take all that you know.