The Exchange

In the equality of ones eyes, you stare into the world she stares into.

You look and wonder the wonder she wonders.
White flags and burned ashes, 

bare trees in paths of leaves.
Daisies in digged holes only to be climbed out of.

You stare and wonder, walk barefooted into the dirt.
Only to see the sun that shines upon one's world

And for one day; if she stares back into mine

one can only wonder, 

how clouds will try and stop to make her shine. 

Idealisme

Onderbroken vrijheid met opgelegde gehoorzaamheid baat bij de oppermachtige, maar de zwakkere wordt opzij geschoven.
Ideeën en gedachten vervlogen met de wind en weggespoeld door vloedgolven van idealisme.
Ideaal - ego - isme
Is ieder niet ideaal in zijn eigenheid?
Waarom is perfectionisme een doel en geen gemiddelde?
Ik ben perfect. Ik ben perfect mezelf.
Geen standaard van één of andere vervlogen maatschappij, maar een persoonlijkheid gevuld met eigen normen, waarden, dromen en ideeën.
IJdelheid maakt een tunnel van onze visie. We kijken te veel boven en onder ons, in plaats van naast ons.
Wie we ook zijn, we zijn perfect onszelf.
Met onze eigen ideeën en talenten.
Wij, zullen eeuwig bestaan.

Naakte totaliteit

Bekijk mensen in hun naakte totaliteit met vormen en rondingen die zelfs golven willen vervolledigen.
Met luidruchtige pigmenten en zwijgzame littekens die verhalen op ons lichaam uitschreeuwen.
Met haren die reiken tot in de wolken en voeten die zich nestelen in die diepe wortels van de ondergrond.
Standvastige flexibiliteit reist door ruimte en tijd, vervolledigd het leven dat wordt opgeslagen in de onvolledige eenzaamheid na het afscheid van zijn naaste.

Silence

I’m running out of pages to write down the words forever haunting me
Bleeding on paper with dark blue drops
Losing a staring contest in the mirror
to be defined as shy
Silence, the only cry I can do as loud as I can
No matter where I am
Why doesn't anyone talk?
In words I can rephrase as my own
Why don’t you want me this desperately
You’d bury your teeth into my bone?
Where are you now, princes of the night
Dressed in party armour, empty bottle armed
Where are you now to walk as cross as you speak
Silence, the only blood dropped word I can offer
Without being forgotten.

Quiet moments inside.

He looked himself in the mirror as he walked by. It’s a strange habit he has for when he see’s a reflection of himself he likes to take a quick glimpse of it. Not because he’s shallow or narcissistic, but to see if there is any reason at all to be proud of himself.
And like so many times before, he tried again. But the mirror showed what it always showed,
sad blue grayish eyes staring back at him with a burning hope of change. He quickly took his eyes of the mirror and went back into the living room where his roommate was studying in a little corner of the chamber. He stared at his own books and realized he had so much work to do but just couldn't get himself started. ‘Is this all there is to me?’ He wondered when he sat down behind his laptop, wishing it would be a typewriter like they had back in the 1940’s so he could finally start to write this idea he had for quite some time now.
See, he always wanted to be a writer but never really got further than scrabbling little poems in a black notebook he carried around all the time. And when he finally found time to write he’d tell himself that he wasn't ready to tell his story, that it has to be perfect.
He didn't want to disappoint himself. All he wants is to look in the mirror with pride. To look in those blue grayish eyes and tell them that he finally made his own standards which are so impossibly high.
Looking to his empty screen he grabbed his phone that was resting next to his elbow and started to read previous messages he had.
Did he screw that up too? Or was there still hope in that area of his life?
While he scrubbed his eyes back open, refusing them to close for just a second, he typed in a text message that he would never have the courage to send.
After deleting those words of truth from his phone he stared for a quiet moment and whispered ‘coward’, obviously addressed to himself.
He turned off his phone, closed his laptop and dived into his books, hoping not to drown in those words that were forever holding him back.