Oceans have water,
deserts have sand.
2 souls apart,
how come they meet
on a common land?

But why I proudly stand,
leaving
footprints on the sand?

-

A horrible poet
I am,
the most hated in
Amsterdam.

-

The sun and winter remind me of your warm lips and cold heart.

-

What every
homeless
finds in
his home,
is what
every poet
finds in
his poem.

-

Hearts are made
of bones,
and blood of
liquor.

They often do
break,
and then turn
bitter.

-

p•o•e•t•s

-

You remember
our bets?
On river banks
at sunsets?

We'd count
stars
at night,
and I'd kiss
you if
I'm right.
I'd always
count 2
more than you,
as your eyes
sparkled
in the skyview.

-

I couldn't
read
your lips,
in that
dim alley.
But your
eyes,
the way
they
sparkled,
felt
something
more than
love.
(The night we were homeless)

-

Imagine
we lie,
silently
under
star cover.

And you
whisper
a lie,
that I'm
your lover.

-

I write a postcard
to you,
travel a thousand
miles to you.

Knock the door, on
your
birthday,
she fled away with
another man
they say.

November 6
(The Grim Bar)

-