Passen op de Poes
Passen op de Poes
Wilt U passen op de poes?
Van wie..van bovenbuurvrouw?
Nou goed dan omdat het
zo'n mooie poes is.
Met haar, wil ik wel een
nacht naakt klaverjassen.
De schoonheid van een
haarbal of drie
bewonderend haar haarval
en ook de schoonheid
van mount Fuji
en de zee van Hiroshige
bepotelen met zacht
uitgestekte krallen,
besnorren en beknorren
tot aan apotheose
over nitwitjes brallen.
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poem by Madrason writer
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Praying for more privacy
The cricket in the house
might bring -bad- luck,
last year i had a mouse,
whom by poison struck.
My neighbour couldn't be
explained its' harmlessness
and so on without success
it had to die on me.
Announcing babies in the summer
-mighty my oh what a bummer-
slummering all through the day
in a soothing sluggish way.
I'm praying for more privacy
but everywhere are eyes that see
in blind corners i shall hide,
plan my silent suicide.
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poem by Madrason writer
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Sung from our souls
Sung from our souls
In the sun we'll be one
a Kurt Cobain
who ended pain
a Marvin Gaye
who had to pay
the priced father's son
You and me reality
Oh brother brother
who does bother
what do we wrong
when moods too strong
is black then all we see
When we're diving deep
the rivers are growing
impules overflowing
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poem by Madrason writer
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Butterfly
Butterfly
I'm floating here high in the sky
my feet are heavy that is why
they gave me wings to fly
Each time i land and try to walk
i hear the rumours and backtalk
and lose a load of yellow chalk
I 'm made to make lovers
in bellies one discovers
i'm tickeling their clovers
long before the summer-start
i'm showing colours in your heart
too carpe deum is my part
I'm floating here high in the sky
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poem by Madrason writer
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Democracy
Democracy
Tiananmen come again
we need you everyday
send flowers to brutes
play Panpipes and flutes
let the tunes be the fire
of a newage's desire
be like Revolução dos Cravos
spread like Lisbon's petals
that sweet scent of freedom
Tiananmen come again
let the dried blood
fill us not in Vain
let the bullets sound hard
for a soft sigh's certain death
instead, never forget
never be forgotten;
Tiananmen come again
for we need you everyday!
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poem by Madrason writer
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Kippenjicht en Tegenlicht (voor R.Kopland)
Kippenjicht en Tegenlicht
Bloed laten prikken
moest zo hard schrikken
mijn hart stond even stil.
Kwam te liggen
langs donzig witte biggen
waar men niet liggen wil.
Ik was hiervan het Hoofd
maar kon toch niet bevroeden
dat ik liggend aan haar voeten
van mijn leiding werd beroofd,
waarom ik Zo moest boeten.
Je hebt de kans gekregen
jouw eigen krans geregen
het leven heb je verslonden
en...................
Nog ben je er mede verbonden.
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poem by Madrason writer
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Homo universalensis
Homo universalensis
I do not look at thee
as if upon a honeybee
afraid if thy might sting
but rather as a cherrytree
that blossoms in the spring
you are not man nor woman
but of them all first human
a flower to be admired
a light desiring to be fired
your heart is beating at my door
in room 3, four or five
you jumped into my life
and pumped your virtues through
a Golden Bough to do
it is my deepest plight
here on my knees I might
bow seven times for
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poem by Madrason writer
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Hef het Glas
Ze rukten zich los
als twee warme banden
van het glanzende lippengloss
die als twee onderpanden
achterbleven op een glas
Gluhwein met roze wormen.
Haar Degas Dactyllen
trilden als leliestengels
de bengels langs Ionische Style
zegen plots moe ontdaan neer op aard.
Haar hoofd achterover
gebogen zacht wit satijn
alsof ze in katzwijm
zou raken.
Verover haar adem-stoten
op een veel te koud glas
en spreidt dan het maagdelijk
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poem by Madrason writer
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Niets te Kiezen
Niets te Kiezen
Niet verder dan dit,
niet verder dan dit lied,
verder dan dit lied niet.
Dit witte lied dat,
dat tegen de nacht
tegen de nacht aan zit.
Bleek van schemer
blauwsig zelfs,
pulserende rivieren.
Dichtgeklapte klieren,
steunende scharnieren
kreunend van de kou
dat allesomvattend
blind, dof en grauw.
Bedekt met mantelzorg
voor die nooit een
mantel droegen
er nooit om vroegen
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poem by Madrason writer
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No more pussycatting
If you want the juice to flow,
love me tender, bite me slow,
i wear my belt of chastity,
so don't you try to honey me
on a daft dark room hotel
then I' ll lose my honey key,
yes i know you far too well
sense the sweat peering trough
trough your lustrous gain
i am slowly hunting you
like Diana in great pain.
I won't sit alone and weep
or wave my arms to whip,
impress red stripes to keep
and sleep upon your lip.
I, wont be chained by lies
need to be laced with ties,
loved tender, bitten slow
if you want this love to grow..
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poem by Madrason writer
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