Drive

It is time now to go and drive

and drive and drive on

through the landscapes of a life

that always did thrive on

the promises that were not kept

the loves that ended

in deserts all windswept

engines unmended

    Drive in emptiness

    with poems on our lips

    dive in giddiness

    my soft hands on your hips

    oh drive and drive forlorn

    into the reasons we were born

    drive

It is time now to look far back

as there’s no ahead

yes our hopes did get the sack

the stranger was not met

we are blossoms of the sea

we sparkle and die

this is it for you and me

at least we never lied

       refr.

26/02/12

Goodbye

Take me to that southern city

tell  me this is where he died

the landscape’s gentle like the pity

that his soul was not denied

Some struggles take up too much time

days and weeks and months and years

all without reasom without rhyme

but I know he shed no tears

        You old codger

         you old fart

         sickbed lodger

         boundless heart

         I have come to say goodbye

         or at least I’ll try

         goodbye, and then, goodbye

There must be a mountain village

where we smoke and drink and dance

where we dive into life’s scrimmage

and we always meet perchance

I am not ill there, you’re not dead

jokes are told and then retold

each day is like the day we’ve met

and we simply don’t grow old

       refr.

21/02/2012. In fond memory of Norman Hackett

Nothing is sacred

You trust someone totally

tell them the secrets of your heart

then they betray you fatally

and your feelings fall apart

They say they’re sworn to secrecy

and they’ll be quiet as the grave

how can you show them leniency

when they behave like utter knaves ?

       Nothing is sacred

       nothing is safe

       trust is betrayed

       hearts turn into caves

       wet, lonely and cold

       were you give up and feel old

News came on the telephone

that a dear old friend had died

now help me to a megaphone

so you can hear me as I cry

Friends come and go constantly

people have a way of dying

sadness simply strikes and instantly

the muse records our sighing

      refr.

20/2/12

Requiem for Norman Hackett

Dear Maggi et all,
As you know I deeply share your grief and all day yesterday I could think of nothing else, so after a few drinks I wrote some words. My device is, when in pain, write. As it happens, I've done a lot of writing in my life ...
Soon after you started living in Lange Leemstraat, Norman became a regular visitor to my shop and very soon we became bantering friends when he made some snide comment about one of my books or whatever and I told him to bloody well sod off underneath my breath or so I thought but he'd heard and burst out laughing. So this is the stuff friendships are made on. He kept inviting me to the house on friday-nights but I thought it was just a polite figure of speech, some social formula that it would be foolish to act upon so I didn't. Still, he kept repeating the invite and one friday evening after closing up shop I drove past your invitingly lit house and as I spotted a free parking space right across from it I pulled over and rang your bell. From then on our friday-night diners and massive booze-ups became a regular fixture at which Norman introduced me to opera which I had always steered clear off. I cannot come close to describing the fond memories I have of these evenings and mellow get-togethers with Norm, Maggi and whichever of the children happened to be present. I remember pressurizing Norman to buy Alex a then state-of-the-art computer after she came campaigning for it to me in the shop. It felt like a friendly conspiracy. A great moment came when I was invited to carve my name in the massive dinner table and thereby joined the inner circle so to speak.
When the house in Gallargues was purchased, Norm and I drove over for a weekend while Pierce was doing it up and later Norm insisted I'd visit at least twice a year when you'd finally moved. An indulgence I gladly extended as I had a complete wing of the house to myself, bedroom with TV, private bathroom, all the books one could read, perfect privacy when needed and interaction and histrionic banter at meals, and what meals they were ! Your hospitality was boundless and experienced by many of your friends who, like me, kept repeating the experience.
Then Maggi's phone-call one day about Norm having suffered a "stroky thing" when over in the States. That of course changed everything and eventually came the move to Béziers. I remember all of us plus David Steele and his wife visiting the block when it was still under construction and we had to make our way up to the duplex via a rickety ladder.
The barman comes to my table and asks if I need more beermats to write on but I'll chuck it in as I'm too drunk and I'll write some more at home and I tell him what I'm writing and that I never had a friend like Norm and now I never will again.
And so, in the face of the unspeakable we act out the unthinkable, the now without now, we wander on as we always did but changed as never before, we are different people now in a different place that has not at all changed but yet will never be the same and we imagine Norman's present world but we can only be ghosts there, phantoms. We will go on, we always do, but a crucial part of the stage remains empty and only our thoughts and the sweet chimera of remembrance can fill it to some extent. I will remember the fedora and his taliban beard, whatever that was for, too lazy too shave I bet. I will remember quips and puns and hits and runs but also the comfortable silences during countless visits because is that not one of the quintessences of love and friendship ? the ability to be still together, quiet, to not feeling the need to fill the room with small talk and mindless chatter in order to stave of the existential void ? I could be silent with Norman and bask in his generous friendship and know it would always be there and then came NOW. Dear oh dear, this is going to take some getting used to. My health precluded me from visiting lately but there was always the idea, that maybe some day ...after all we were only a trainride away... now that ride cannot be taken, that day can never come and I have great difficulty holding back the tears, but then again why should I. Oh darling Maggi it must be hard on you.

I live this life, strangely

Oh look dear, the moon is bright
and full, the ice covers the lake
that’s bathing in the phantom light
come let us see what we can take
I live this life, strangely
and you share it bravely

We are all puppet-masters
and we are travelling blind
through brute bliss and weird disaster
come let us see what we can find
I live this life, strangely
tho’ it’s driving me crazy

           I live this life, strangely
           and you shared it bravely
           tho’ you did drive me crazy
           as you did re-arrange me
           but no fate could change me
           I live this life, strangely


And the mad skaters whizz by
they’re like sharp knives in the wind
oh cross my heart and hope to die
there is no place they haven’t been
I live this life, strangely
oh come and re-arrange me

We lose ourselves in the snow
life’s labyrinth’s enticing
we can’t say who is in the know
the art of bread is the slicing
I live this life, strangely
and blind fate will not change me


        refr.

9/2/12

Crossroads

Take me to Robert Johnson's crossroads
and let me see the creature
maybe I will swear the oath
change my old world's features

     Here at the crossroads
     naked as a baby
     freed from the old load
     now it's yes, not maybe
     at the crossroads

Here I am, it's judgment day
nature's bounty bursting out
no one knows just what to say
and if some do, then not out loud

      refr.

30/1/12