donderdag 26 april 2012

The game is up



I did cross the sea of sorrow
and I will again tomorrow
life is full of strange goodbyes
now you love and then you die

I am no stranger to deep sadness
and I have flirted with madness
life is full of weird hello’s
then you come and then you go

   This is no spring
   this is no splendour
   still I can sing
   with utmost candour
   of how hearts beat
   in their sweet heat
   until they stop
   the game is up

When you cross the sea of sorrow
you stop thinking ‘bout tomorrow
about hello about goodbye
the only word that’s left is ‘why ?’

I am familiar with badness
and I am no good at gladness
life is full of traps and trials
I want my poison in a vial

       Refr.

                 And this is how the world does work
                 we talk and talk and shape
                 the way we feel the urge
                 to grasp the logic of our days
                 all our longing and our hope
                 all our trying just to cope
                 if we cannot drain that cup
                 well then the game is up


25/4/12
            

vrijdag 20 april 2012

Drug


The students in the street
and the sailors on heat
can’t reach us in this room
where our intimacy blooms

      Give me hug
      you are my drug
      I’m in a muddle
      give me a cuddle
      can’t get enough
      of you, my drug

There’s red lights everywhere
but I don’t belong there
my place is on your bed
where you just go to my head

       refr.


Here you tell me secrets
and then you say, oh let’s
have some more tenderness
sheltered from the wilderness


     refr.


19/4/12. Maria

Invisibility blues


Women over fifty complain
“I have become invisible
no man looks at me again
I don’t get requests or nibbles
I’m neglected like a stone
resting in forgotten rivers
I am destitute and alone
I shake and get the shivers”

    Invisibility blues
    you’re bleeped off-screen
    now stomach the bad news
    you will never more be seen
    as an object of desire
    you are left here in the mire
    of invisibility’s blues
    what a painful truth

Men over fifty might find
that they end up just the same
unless they’re rich and resigned
to be chosen for their fame
personality’s no plus
blocks up human interest
the fashion pages that’s not us
and old age is just not blessed

       refr.

                 And we drink
                 and moan and mumble
                 they say we stink
                 and then we stumble
                 home alone
                 and turn to stone


19/4/12

donderdag 19 april 2012

Raven Maria


There’s your shadow
that is sharp and pure
you’re a rich meadow
but quite far from demure

Your room where I’m
at your beck and call
and I buy your time
in hope you’ll stop and stall

      Oh my black raven
      and my great unknown
      I’m beyond saving
      what strange seed you’ve sown
      I kiss all your lips
      as you spread your hips

There’s your stories
I will never know
they’re like toy lorries
and they pass and go

There’s your body
that I like and love
it’s like a story
I keep dreaming of

      refr.


17/4/12

For Maria, my cute prostitute

dinsdag 10 april 2012

Ja


Zoals Claus zag ik de billen
van vele Gisèles
in vele Mocambo’s,
was dat noodzakelijk ?
Jawel, het moest.
Ik zag hen dansen
liet hen drinken
hing aan al hun lippen,
en dat moest, oh ja.
Tussen tijd en eindeloos
tussen plaats en bestemming
liggen, lonken, slaan en zalven zij
en ja, dat is noodzakelijk.
Nu valt Pasen met de passie over ons
met Mattheus en met Bach
als zeezichten van de Cordier
maar die zijn zwart en dit is licht
en helder als de krolse billen
van de Gisèles die ik kende
- al die Mocambo’s
die waren bloed- en broodnodig.
Oh ja.

9/4/12