Poezie blabla
Monday
Hello, before the Monday will start
perhaps write some lyrics
for a girl with a kind heart?
Don’t take my poetry too serious,
don’t take it too hard,
as it is just words, of a guy
with romantic blabla
under the guise of pseudo-
proxy- sophisticated algebra
The same with philosophy,
which at times hardly exceeds the level
of a couple of old men in a bar
after the clock strikes eleven
when under an unfortunate mix of alcohol-
sleepiness - “existential doom”
truthfulness walks out of the room
and enter a couple of cowboys
who go with a type of bravado:
“God is definitely dead!”
to which the other replies:
“but I am Jesus Christ!”
(and in Dutch, the third:
“hoe wist jij dat?”);
On the other hand, perhaps you will
allow for a few questions, lets say four
either under guise of poetry, philosophy
or any other format,
that allows for a small interview
basically, an interview,
about “wie bent u”?
Such as: where do you like to look at,
with your brown eyes
who gave me the paradoxical, double, impression
that you look both young, girlish, but also very wise
and question two: where did you buy
that nice white shirt you weared the other day,
which is “white” of “innocence”,
but also with funny details;
which gave me the paradoxical, double, feeling
whether at a meeting I’d rather study it more closely,
or would like to remove it
Third question: where do you come from,
do I have to look it up in the Quran,
Sura 3, “The Children of Imran”,
or do I have to study it
in secondary literature,
in the legendary scripture
“Children of Argentina”
And, more difficult perhaps, but also
a question on my mind
do you understand the power of beauty,
a weird, flimsy thing,
as thin perhaps as a white shirt,
but quite strong it seems: “beauty”,
so that it gives one the paradoxical, double idea
that to meet the other person
is both a delight and a duty
Montag
Wo bist du, Unbekannter,
der unten alte Baumen weilst
Was bist du, dein Fleisch,
süss wie man in einen Apfel beißt
Ein Ewigkeit gewartet,
dem Fruhverstorbenen Heil
Dem Abgeschiedenen erschienen,
zur Wanderschaft bereit.
Unter algemeinen Misserkennung
meinen Gedanken,
aber dem Unsichtbaren
ein Gesicht
Am Abend Geschwister,
Führerin am Tag
deine Liebe,
heisst meine Pflicht
