I am gone for a bit to the hospital on the main land, for this afternoon my right eye will be operated on, the same vitrectomy as a few years ago on my left eye, and the next day I shall have an EMG-test for my right arm (which makes me doubt the meaning of the word right 🙂 ) As my eye will need a bit of rest, this means not too much watching the screen.
Hope to be back writing, reading, liking and commenting on Word Press soon! See you all! 🙂 xx
Watching another horizon
I want to know more, for a moment
understand the ever why of things,
that enigmas only live inside themselves
as all was solved a while ago
when the sky split to embrace us,
that’s when questions became redundant,
and for a moment I do know so.
Underneath the surface
bones ripe to scare us on the beach,
a skull that’s been there for some decades
makes the chosen habitat
of crabs not interested
in the strand at all.
But things will change for them;
a storm approaches from the West,
noticed by the birds and flowers
making preparations for survival
and I shall walk there
finding out what fear is. Soon.
One of the poets on Word Press I admire deeply is Paul Lenzi, ( his blog: http://poesypluspolemics.com/ ) and he has nominated me to participate in what’s known as a Blog Tour, a means of sharing thoughts with the WordPress community about why we blog poets do what we do here.
The process of participation: answer four questions.
1. Why do I write what I do?
First: what do I write?
For a living, it is writing light genre-novels, in Dutch, and I have been doing it for 17 years now.
Why? Well, because I really could not make money any other way having no school diplomas (I did try, I have been a bookseller, I worked on a passenger ship on the Rhine cleaning and such, I worked in Amsterdam as a sort of clerk, I washed dishes in a hotel, I was editor and journalist of the local newspaper which sounds a lot more than it was, I worked in a school library. ) Writing fiction means I can finally do what I always loved doing, which is writing stories, and get paid for it too.
Why I write poems, in English? I think because people reacted so kindly when I first started in fall 2010, I wanted to see if I could do it in English, a language I love very much. It soon became an addiction. A poem can say so much more in such few words, so I found out along the way. I learnt to look and think in a sort of new dimension. A whole new experience! I have written over 1300 English poems now. Not sure where it will end 🙂 It depends on my eyes mostly.
2. How does my writing process work?
For the novels, it is easy enough: I think of a story, which usually is done in a few minutes, write a one page synopsis to the editor, and if he approves, I just sort of follow the synopsis.
For poems there is no rule. Sometimes I am half asleep then bingo, a thought occurs, or when I walk, a sentence enters my brain and wants to stay there. But a lot gets lost as well as I don’t always write stuff down right away. Sometimes it is by reading Nicci French, their (Nicci French is a two-some) way of writing seems a trigger for my mind to think in better phrased lines. Or it is a smell, a colour, an event, a memory that pops up. I tried narrative, but I find that more difficult, to write a story in a poem.
I write mostly on the laptop right away, but sometimes I use pen and paper. I find it easier to write on the laptop, it is quicker and I can actually read what I have written, which is not always the case with my handwriting. Sometimes I immediately write in the blog body, but usually I write in Word. The blog is where I put most of my poems, I do try to make back ups but I tend to get behind on that. I sometimes alter a poem after publishing, but I am not very good in editing, that is why I like feedback from readers and the fact there is also an editor and publisher for the books, so my poems are safe there.
3. How does my work differ from other genres?
First of all, I am not sure what genre I write. I do free verse, but also different formal poetry forms like sonnets and rhyme. If there is something different, then perhaps that is it. That it is a different genre with every poem. And of course I would like each of my poems to be unique!
4. What am I working on at the moment?
I am writing a novel as usual for the Dutch publisher, hope to finish today but probably not, and I am also writing an English thriller but I can not say much about it yet. I am thinking of doing something with my Dutch poems as one of them actually wan a first prize. Finding a Dutch publisher perhaps. Not doing the Indy-thing as I really believe in (flexible) editors!
As for the English poetry: There will be a 2 (chunky) volumes anthology of mine released in March 2015 by Winter Goose publishing, they are the publishers of “Veritas” and “Amor”, also poetry anthologies by me. So that means editing a total of about 600 poems. And I want to keep writing English poetry.
This is my contribution to the blog tour.
My nominees for this Blog Tour are three poets I admire for their wonderful work, and about whom I would like to know some more. I hope they will continue the tour but I do understand if they won’t of course 🙂 :
John Clinock who is not only a gifted poet, but also a wonderful painter and more http://johnclinockart.com/
Marie a very original poet, writer of fiction and editor http://kvennarad.wordpress.com/
Richard Ankers http://richardankers.com/ whose poems always do something for the heart 🙂
Trees have no eyes
for me as I walk by them,
their arms not meant for hugs
are pointing at the sky or other trees.
And I go tiptoeing further on
where purple flowers grow, ignoring me
in turn. I don’t belong here till it rains
and we all wait to get soaked by cool water.
Trying to define my way
in what I’m worth, in what I do,
I stumble over older pains
and creatures trying to undress me;
I feel their hands all over me,
they hide in bottles and in tears,
in images of whom I was, remains
of once a life that was not me.
I struggle like I’ve done before
but this time: watch me, watch me now
as something must have changed,
as this time I am worth it.
The world we know can not be all there is.
There’s more between us than we know,
and things unseen are hunting us
in sleep, even in space they are, so there.
I dream so nicely of you and your love;
this, while you do not care at all.
To me, you live in unseen, gentle tremblings
and I think much of you, unseen.
But do my tremblings and my thoughts,
however gentle, somehow make it to your heart?
I would not know, my science ends
in fragile words and clumsy speculations.
When we first met
a bird flew right through me;
I felt the trembling of its wings
from my neck to ankle, in my ribs
and in my heart, its feathers
swiftly ruffling in my stomach,
and never I had felt so light
than that moment when we met.
thinking about clouds
their shapes are never the same
as we expected
we knew they would change
people are like that
as they are drifting off
yet we expect them
to remain the same
I am on the ferry and I saw these clouds, they made me think
Your letters follow me like tumble weed,
white paper rolling flickering with words,
each line demands me in repeat to stop
from running further. Each sheet is screaming
I should read, although I know the content
well, as every fold is folded to a tear.
You would and will not let me be alone.
Your letters follow me like tumble weed.
Moving on
The Balance
National Poetry Writing Month 2012
Ina 
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