Category Archives: poetry

Life’s a bitch and then you have an orgasm…

Do you ever complain about life? I do. Life can be a bitch sometimes. Seriously. And there are times when you despair. You’ve banged your head against the same wall for what seems like an eternity. Every door that opened got slammed in your face, or led to a dead end. Your thoughts start circling in a negative downspiral and life starts feeling like it sucks.

This year I decided to pull my head out of the gutter. However, there have been a few slamming doors this year too and after walking head first into a door rather recently I started despairing. I thought I’d be stuck in the same situation forever. And as one thing was tied to another, that was tied to another, that was tied to another, I felt trapped. Like I’d never find a way out. The kids I help raise are in Cape Town, so I need to get back. For that reason I can’t change jobs, can’t do this, can’t do that, am financially strapped…and I have felt very stuck for a very long time.

Have I felt like a victim and pitied myself? Oh you have no idea. Have I gotten angry and wanted to punch a number of government officials? Hell to the yes. Have I panicked and felt like the lousiest extra parent in the world and hated myself for it? Gosh, you have no idea what a terrible person I am and how much I can possibly hate myself. Have I awoken in a state of panic from dreams of the kids, screaming, hyper ventilating, or crying? Way too many times to count. Sometimes I’m scared of sleeping.

Have I wanted to give up? Yes. I’ve felt like there is no strenght left in me. Like I’ll never win this fight. Like there’s no joy left in life. Like there is no way out of this blooming visa-adoption-career nightmare.

This year I decided to choose art. Choose poetry. Choose magical moments. Choose to believe that what I can do for the kids is a blessing, not that what I can’t do is a curse. In general, do what I can to enjoy what I can. When a door closes a window opens. It is all about that window. About the moment. About what you can do.

Some times are harder than others. It’s inevitable…and sometimes we invite it by doing something utterly stupid. We need to forgive ourselves. Give ourselves the gift of allowing ourselves to enjoy the moment. Give that joy to others. And slowly change our life and that of those around us simply by growing flowers in the mud. As the story goes, I prefer satin and Egyptian cotton sheets, but there’s nothing saying you can’t have an orgasm on whatever you picked up at Ikea. And I’m talking about the sheets you pick up there, not the men. Should Ikea come up with an invention for “easy-to-put-together-Scandinavian-men” that included the perfect user manual maybe I’d consider it, but Scandinavian men are generally not my type. I prefer the more exotic version…

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Poem No. 69: Desire of Life. Writing poetry for Magique is one of the things that’s resurrected my spirits this year. Poetry, to me, is like growing flowers in the mud when you focus on the beauty of life. This poem was written today. More poetry can be found here


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Straight from my heart (i.e. my diary)…

Chili Fruits

Tonight I’d like to escape. I’d like to go far, far away from being me. Not all of me…just part of me. The part that doesn’t get it. The part that wants something it doesn’t understand. The part that aches for an answer, yet sees no answer in sight. The part that wants what it cannot have. Of course, the answer lies in the question, not in an escape into something else. Well, you know what? Whenever this question has been posed before, I’ve felt hopelessness. Like I’ll never figure it out. I’ll stick to work. Get lost in my projects. The tangible things. The things which bring me joy. And if I just do that, then I’ll be OK because I never have to touch the parts of my soul that are confused, or wounded. It’s been a balance between despair, or losing myself from it altogether by filling my life with work that I love. I refuse doing that anymore. I will just have to face it without despairing about it. Do something that makes me happy and think about it.

I wish I had some food at home. Then I would stand in the kitchen all night conducting crazy experiments and getting lost in something totally different. In smells, sights and thoughts that would clear my head. Sadly I don’t and I have to get up at like 5am tomorrow to have a decent chance of getting my work done. And buy a car. Very important. Then I can actually get some food up the hill. Maybe if I put chili in my tea tomorrow morning it will have the desired effect?

When we redecorate the house this weekend I will use that as a tool for inspiration. Creation always inspire. This time we are going Moroccan. Morocco inspires me too. Maybe I’ll get out my charcoal too and paint a portrait of someone, or just play with color. I need to play, that’s all I know. Play with a few of my favorite things. We are literally going to have to saw so much stuff and paint and be creative that any thought left nagging will get transformed, if nothing else just because I’m determined it will and I’m rather stubborn.

When feet touches moist sand, eyes open wide with wonder. Life sparkles. Sometimes life touches you. We are made of this stuff and we see it reflected around us. If we love the sunshine, I believe somewhere the sunshine is in us. Or maybe we are like the moonlight and attracted to our polar opposite? Then again, the moonlight is made of sunshine. We are all, by the end of the day sunshine. Sunshine that came alive.

Outside the city twinkle with light. I’m happy up here. I think I’ve found home.

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I will shag you till loose gums do us part…

I can bullshit my way trough almost anything, I’m very good with that…but when someone asks you to write a wedding speech…that’s when the BS needs to get lost. I mean, you just can’t bullshit your way through something as important as that. Many things in this life are perceived as important that mean very little, but a wedding…given the couple is in love…is serious in a most wonderful, sparkling, magical, mystical, beautiful, gorgeous, awesome (I’m running out of superlatives) way. So when a very good friend of mine, who I happen not to have seen for two years, wrote me a note to charm my socks off saying: “I don’t think I know anyone who’s read so many wise books as you and who enjoy so much to philosophy through stories and words on these great topics life has to offer. Like love..” I couldn’t not help her. Right. So on with cringe factor no.5 and let loose the poet in me….that is to say: I have to be vulnerable whilst writing this…I can’t just say something witty about shagging each other till lose gums do you part…ahem… So now I will start cringing and showing you my heart…

Take 1. Action.

I could say many things, but I believe the most important one has already been said. It has been said today and it will continue to be said for the rest of your lives. It will be said in actions, in smiles, in gifts, in cuddles, in chores, in lovemaking, in cooking, in glances, in touches… It’s a most wonderful thing. It will shine a light upon darkness. It will make the good times seem even brighter. It will bring comfort when there are storms. It will bring warmth to the cold. It will live in you and between you and it will be shared with those around you. Bar none I would swap a million dollars for this gift any day, because it does what a million dollars could not do and it makes you feel like a million dollar could not make you feel.

Through the centuries there have been many stories, but I believe this one is the one most often told, most often wanting to be heard. For this, I believe you are blessed – you found what people throughout the centuries have most longed to find. You found it. And now it’s your gift, to every day give to each other again, in all those ways that mean the most for you. I hope you will really take time to figure these out, because what more fun could there be? How much better does playing get than to play with finding out what makes another heart beat faster? How much wonderful could it be than having someone play this game with you, trying out everything they can to make your heart beat faster?

Remember this. Remember that you will always have that gift to give to each other, no matter what storms are raging, what good times are being celebrated, or what craziness is going on around you. So if the rest of the world is on fire, you will still have this and it will still be as wonderful. It will always be a little oasis, a little bubble of magic, because no matter what, it will still be. Always remember to stop whatever else is happening and say it to each other, every day, in ways that are the most brilliant to you. If you do, I believe you will create something that can move mountains.

I believe you all know what I am talking to by now. So raise your glasses if you may – here’s to the world’s most important words: I LOVE YOU!

Should I do a Take 2? You decide… I suppose I avoided writing a love poem. That would be…crikey, yeah, that would be…astounding if I published that here. Between that and karaoke I think I would conquer my worst fears…however, if I loved the guy I wrote it for and sung to the guy I loved..that would up it even more… I guess all it would be though, as most things are: just me, showing who I am. Without the make-up, fully visible, even with a note an octave or two too high or love…I mean low…ahem…

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The girl and the ocean…

The morning sun was stretching its first rays up into the air and it created a streak of orange by the line of the horizon. It was a calm morning. The ship was moving slowly and the young man felt a twinge of impatience, at the same time as he knew it was ridiculous – you can’t change the pace of a ship.

The young man was acutely aware of the power of the sea, the winds and everything else which his world evolved around. It was not he that was in control, all he could do was to learn to cope within what was there. If he was in charge of the winds, they’d always blow in the direction in which he was going. If he was in charge of the clouds, they would only be there when the sun was too hot to muster. He wasn’t in charge though, and he knew it. He knew it because he had spent enough time at sea to know. He had been shown the powers of nature time and time again. The more he saw, the more in awe he became of nature, yet, the more he learnt to play within her games. When a storm broke loose, he would look up into the skies and ask what he needed to learn from this one, or if it was just a joke she was playing on them all. A tease. Something to make them work for their ride. They had, after all, been given her planet to play upon. If it could be called playing.

As they would reach harbor today the hull would be washed; everything polished to look nice, including themselves. They had been gone for twelve full moons. It was a long time.

The sun was slowly climbing its way up the sky and the warm rays caressed his face, making him feel relaxed. He needed to sleep. He had been on duty the last five hours. It had been a calm night, nothing much had happened, but he was still getting tired now. He wish he could sleep outside in the sun, but he knew he would have to go downstairs. He yawned.

The ship was his home. Maybe more so than the old cottage in which his parents lived. The smell of salt, seaweed, tar and wood felt more familiar than earth and grass. He had been at sea for six years. It had taught him a lot and it had kept him calm. On land he always felt restless and agitated. At least he had done. Now, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to keep moving around always, but the thought of staying in just one place…what was there left to discover after some time? What colors and smells would wake him up, resurrect him? He didn’t know. He had never managed to find them before. As a kid, all that ever interested him was when the ships arrived in the harbor and he got to come down and see what they had brought with them from afar – the colors, smells and sensations of different worlds from his own. Discovery awakened him. Routines made him fall asleep. They were nice for a while. They were like resting – one could switch off, sleepwalk. After a while the body had rested enough and longed to once again discover something new. Something different.

There was one thing he didn’t want to be apart from though and that was her. She had moved to their little town when he was gone in travels. Her family came from afar. She was different; she had seen some of the world out there and she wasn’t sleepwalking like the rest. Her eyes were always open in wonder, she studied, she asked questions…

They would talk for hours. They would walk through the fields together. She would ask him questions about the nature around there, questions he, himself, who had lived there all his life, could not answer. She made him wonder about the meaning of things. About how a seed can become a plant. How some men love what others hate. Everything he had taken for granted she questioned. She was like him, but what he questioned was different.

He had always questioned why people chose to live as they did; day in and day out the same routines. Once he travelled and saw how people lived differently in different places he would question even more – why couldn’t they take the best from different places and merge it together? Would he ever find a place where he would feel like their way of living suited his dreams?

He had been used to feeling different; like no one else understood him. Until she came along. They saw the world, so differently, but they understood each other’s differences. Of course there was also the Captain of this ship. He understood him quite well too. They didn’t share the whole world though, they just sailed together. He would miss him if he stayed ashore – she had asked him when they would settle down together and he had promised that when he returned this time they would get married and he would stay. Use his savings to buy a boat and become a fisherman. The idea of seeing her every day excited him, yet the idea of staying ashore did not. He knew in his heart that he had chosen her, but part of his heart died as he thought of living in a cottage always. There’d be nothing new to see apart from when the ships arrived. She found something new in every flower; every spring she’d be amazed by the wonders of nature. As the ice melted and flowed down the mountains, the flowers burst into bloom and the animals gave birth to their little ones. She praised it all. To him, it was the same as the year before.

She was sitting in the seers room, feeling a bit nervous and ridiculous. Most people did not believe in such things as the planets ruling the minds of men in this little town. In the big city where she was from some people did. Here it was frowned upon; your fate rested entirely in the hands of God. The seer entered the room with a smile; her large red and golden robe making swishing sounds as she moved. Her brown hair was hanging loosely; the curls seemingly playing with one other. Her eyes were green like jade and emeralds. She was a stunning exotic beauty and she had a warmth about her that had a calming effect on people who were close. Even the decoration in the little room was warm – red colors and wooden furniture. She sat down, still with a smile and took her hand. “Don’t worry, God created the planets too. This is not a crime, you are just checking out what God created for you.” “How can you know that already?” she asked, confused. The seer smiled. “You see, he left traces. Like the planets. The lines on your hands. The energy that radiates from your heart and soul. It’s like learning to read, but it’s not the alphabet you are deciphering, it’s people. You cannot predict the entire future – God gave you free will, but unless you break free, your path is written.” She felt a tad calmed down by this. It didn’t sound too bad.

The seer looked her in the eye. “You have a beautiful soul and you will travel far. Much further than you could ever imagine. You are worried right now that the man you are marrying will leave you. He will never leave you. He loves you. No matter where he is he will love you. You see, love is funny like that – you do not have to be in the same room to love someone.” She felt anxious – the idea of being away from him still hurt her. How much time did you need to spend away from loved ones? Since they met, two years ago, he had been gone for 18 months out of 24. She did not want to live like that, but she loved him. Other men made her smile, bought her roses, sang to her…he just had to look at her, but it was difficult when he wasn’t there.

The seer smiled at her anxiety. “He hasn’t forgotten you, nor never will he. You are special to him. So if the world separated you and he was forced to be apart from you forever, no matter who else he loved, he’d still love you. Such is true love. You don’t have to worry though. Your stars tell of different tales. Before I tell you what they are, I need you to understand him though.” She nodded. “You see, like you love spring…the excitement to you of the rebirth of nature, so he loves to travel. If you imagine an eternal winter, life would not be much fun. Everything around you would seem dead and it wasn’t just there to make you appreciate spring, it was there forever. Sure you would enjoy the snow, the occasional sunny day when you go skiing, tea by the fireplace, Christmas candles and spicy treats…you would love that, but you would still mourn the spring. To him traveling is like spring – it awakens him, makes him acutely aware of his surroundings, makes him alive, smiling. You see, to him you are the world, but without spring in it, he won’t be happy.” She looked at the seer in amazement. “I think I can understand that, but are you telling me he will always be traveling? That he will always be gone for more time than he will be with me? I would have to accept that, because I couldn’t leave him and I couldn’t let him live without spring.”

The seer offered her some mint tea and she accepted, still, in her mind, trying to accept the idea of being away from him so much. The seer slowly stirred her cup. “It’s nice, you accepted it. So it’s true that you love him. However, it’s not what you think. For him, the world without you is potentially even worse than a world without spring. It would be like a world without summer.” She smiled and so did the seer. “You will wander far together. Soon a party of travelers will pass through town and you will go with them. They will not mind women on their journey, in fact they will like having you there. Your gifts are valuable to them. You heal people. What you know of herbs and spices will help them. You will help them trade with teas as well. You are truly gifted you know.”

She had always loved the sea, just like him. Somehow she felt that it could tell her the truth – for hours she would stand and stare at it as a child. It had brought her him. It had taught her that she could not tame it – she could play with it – jump in its waves and splash it around, but it would forever be what it was. It was not hers, but she could enjoy it. It would take her places, but she had to be willing to go.

The young man awoke with a smile on his face – he had had a nice sleep and now he was ready to enter the harbor. He just needed to wash first.

He could not only see land now – he could smell it in the air. It had earthy undertones and some vague nuances of burning wood – fireplaces. It always excited him to reach harbor. It was for the sake of harbors that he traveled – new places and sights. This one was, however, familiar. It always looked a tad different every time he returned though, because he saw it with new eyes. Eyes that had seen more of the world. He had changed and therefore his perspective. What he longed to see today though was not the harbor, but her. He knew she was well – he could always sense if something was wrong, but today everything felt right.

She stood there. Skirts gently rustling in the wind, a smile on her face. She was beautiful. To him she looked different than any other woman around. It was as if she stood out – everyone else looked a bit blurred, out of focus, but she was crystal clear.

He was even more tanned than before. His brown locks were slightly blonder and if possible even more tousled than she could remember. His teeth, when he smiled, looked as white as stars in his tanned face and his blue-green eyes shone like emeralds with glints of turquoise. His rough hands, would soon hold hers in them – trace her lines, make her remember that she was alive. This was what she loved about him – how he made her feel more alive when he was around – he looked as if he was part of nature, rather than separate from it. He didn’t live within a house, he lived within the world. She had never liked walls, confinements; she too belonged to nature. Together they felt freer than when apart.

The sailor returned home that night, but home was merely a harbor in her heart.

In each individual there is an individual, yet we are all made from the same materials, so inside each person is a part of who we are. Our bodies are made up of the same earth. We feed off what lived here a thousand years ago. In our genes rest the beginning of man. Our lives, as Leonardo said, are made of the deaths of others. To gain you must also lose. To grow you must, therefore, give. It is only by giving that something is returned.

It seems like some people compliment us; bring out the best in us and help us see what we did not see before. We are a team. It is true that you should be able to live on your own and feel whole in you. It is equally true that to build a house you may need one person who can visualize what it will look like and another to build it. It is true that some like to lead, whilst other like to be led.

In other people we find someone who sees the world like us. From that day on, we are never alone, no matter where we are, because our minds are connected, our hearts beat like one.

In each person is a world. How they live, how they see, how they feel might be light years from our own. When they share their world, we discover a new world and ours, as a result shifts.

There is a reaction when we meet someone, but we cannot control their reaction, as little as we can control the ocean.

We love ourselves in others and others in ourselves. We love the new worlds others bring us because they compliment our own. We love and it is through love anything worthwhile is created. We sail, but it is in harbors that we belong.

Maybe I will always write stories of entertainers, sailors, healers and seers – travelers that seek truth and joy in life, whilst creating something of their own. I cannot escape myself when I write, just as little as I can escape myself when I do anything. To me those figures are beautiful, because they are my harbors in this life. They are me and I am them.


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Lion, you?!?…

I know I have blogged about this before, yet it always comes back to me; stronger and stronger until one day I hope to master it myself.

There is a human being in front of you. She smiles. She says things. She makes you laugh. She’s a gift. She works in ways that make you wonder. She amazes you. She frightens you. She brings out something different in you. She annoys you. She agitates you. She tickles you. She makes you think of her when she is not there. She touches you. She has feelings for you. She feels you. She sees you. She listens to you. She alarms you. She awakens you. She makes you feel. She makes you experience things. She uplifts you. She believes in you.

There are no words to describe what people mean to you, each person being unique.

We may live for another second, or another hundred years. We may live every second being truly alive, giving each moment and each person our all, or we may live in fear. With inhibitions. With darkness. We may follow the light, or we may fear the shadows. We may charge into the world like lions, or like sheep.

We may live, or we may die.

We have all done things we regret – felt fear, anger, shame, hatred…but that’s the past, who you are now is just a body, free to do what you choose! You are a human. You have traits, but you also have choice. Sheep, or lion.

Today is your unique gift to a person and a person’s unique gift to you. Dare to live. Dare to give light to those that light you up. Dare to walk away from shadows. Dare to love. Dare to be true to whom you choose to be. Dare to learn. Dare to live within the moment, however horrid, or however frighteningly beautiful. Dare to face what’s there, whether you fear to keep it, or lose it. Dare to be the light you want to see in this world. Dare to feel what you feel. Dare to give the most precious gift of all: yourself.

So when my best friend dared me to “lock myself out” wearing my see-through Sonia Rykiel pajama to catch the attention of a certain six pack…I…I did what any lion would do…I said “I’m not interested in sheep…when a lion comes along on the other hand…”

Only you know where your heart truly wants to go and what it truly wants to say…

Nike said it: Just Do It!

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Night my dear, is a love affair…

Out here the night has released her curtain and let it sweep down from the skies – enveloping the world in a blue grayish daze. It is misty tonight. The lights reflect in the tiny drops, creating a hazy look. The stars won’t be seen tonight – only the lights across the sea, the sharp light in the lighthouse and the yellowish light from a single streetlamp. Otherwise, darkness. Well, maybe  just a tiny splash of moonlight – only there to let us see how dark it truly is.

At this hour poems tend to fly through my mind like lightning – it is as if my mind has been illuminated by stories, beauty, love…and nature. Nature when she is a mystery, because nothing can be seen, yet everything can be felt. As the rational day fades away, maybe we are forced to look inside? We seem to get lost in the dark alleys of the city and of the mind. We walk through the night in search of light, in search of love. We dance through the night. We talk to strangers at night – open our hearts and show what’s on the inside. Come the morning light we are once again razor sharp, pure, ready for challenges, but at night… At night we dream. We let ourselves loose. We walk into situations that in daylight would seem crazy, but at night we do not ask questions. We just let ourselves be swept off our feet. We dance along to her tune of mystery, allowing ourselves to reveal our deepest secrets, as we feel safe behind her blanket of nocturnal bliss. As if we were hidden.

Night time slows us down. You take time to do the things you would have never done in bright light. You gently sip your tea whilst leafing through a book. You have time, because what’s there to do at night, but wait for the new dawn? Even if you have a million things to do, you slow down. You adjust your pace to the night.

Dawn has always been my favorite hour – when the sky lights up in pastels, when the mind is clear, focused…when the energy of the new day awakens us, re-enlivens us and fills us with power. Adventure is lurking. People are getting ready for it, yet they do not know what they are getting ready for. Fresh scents fill the morning. Life hath, once again begun afresh.

For all my love of morning though, I cannot deny the magic of the night, or that of any hour. If you only take the time to breathe it in, each hour of the day is filled with magic. After morning there is midday – the sun a tad more yellow by now. Time for a break from duties. People talk. Laughter is shared. Food, too, is shared. Delicious foods. Every day you get to taste life. You are life and life becomes you.

Then comes the afternoon with her orangy light. The magical hour of photography, of sweet, romantic light. Everything soft. Warm. The fast pace of the day is slowing down and people ease up, relax in the glow of the afternoon sun.

In evening people are set free from their duties of the day. They feel the approaching darkness and huddle up together. Share stories from their journeys through the day. Heat up by the fire as cool winds come by. Reward themselves with meals, laughter, wine…

And then, there is night. Night of mystery and wonder. Night of dreams and secrets. Night of revelations and revealing truths. Night, when we see not the world, but ourselves and we wish to escape into the arms of someone else.

So now you know what I think like when twilight hits the world.

(Twilight is) the safest time of day for us. The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way… the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think? – From Twilight, by Stephanie Meyer

Dreams are illustrations…from the book your soul is writing about you.  – Marsha Norman

The stars are the street lights of eternity.  ~Author Unknown

Is there not
A tongue in every star that talks with man,
And wooes him to be wise? nor wooes in vain;
This dead of midnight is the noon of thought,
And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.
~Anna Letitia Barbauld, A Summer Evening’s Meditation

By night, an atheist half believes in God.  ~Edward Young, Night Thoughts

Night, the beloved.  Night, when words fade and things come alive.  When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again.  When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.  ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

The night sky is a miracle of infinitude.  ~Terri Guillemets

It seemed to be a necessary ritual that he should prepare himself for sleep by meditating under the solemnity of the night sky… a mysterious transaction between the infinity of the soul and the infinity of the universe.  ~Victor Hugo


On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths,
Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass:
In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet.
I shall let the wind bathe my bare head.

I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing:
But endless love will mount in my soul;
And I shall travel far, very far, like a gipsy,
Through the countryside – as happy as if I were with a woman.

Arthur Rimbaud
March 1870.

Night time in Paris…the city of light…

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