Saturday, December 12, 2009

I've taught you this way
and nothing more
from here till yonda
take thy lesson
and start astray.

One day we'll make it
One day we'll be ok
One day fate will have mercy
One day nothing will come my way.

Maybe there's a way
Maybe we have to construct one
Maybe we'll succeed
and maybe there will be disarray.

Just don't let fortune come in between
or the lack of it that is
Maybe we have a future
Maybe there is our way.

Sunday, December 6, 2009


I've lived to see this day,
where nothing comes my way
where all is said and done
untill the angels come.

One day they will come for me
when my eyes are stained red
my heart torn apart
by a treaturous dart

Fame and fortune
Is all that's at stake
but maybe I'll be happier
small and tucked away.

Thursday, December 3, 2009


Blooded rags and rags of bones
one day you live, one day you starve alone.
Give me the drugs, give me the love
till it's too much, till it's all the same
Till nothing's left and noone to blame
Dance on my grave when all possibilities are gone
they all call your name
when the damage is done ...

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

I call it from the hells down low
from the crypts, from the elders
from the white raven and the crow
I call it nature
I call it prayer
I don't call it God,
I don't believe in One
Let's settle for that,
just for a while
cause when all is said and done
nature always seems to be right.
After all we've been through,
there must be a way out
a way to love unconditionaly
a way to live,
a way to be proud.
After all that's said and done
let's find our next junction
where we can meet
without burning bridges
without feeling numb
let me be the fire that consumes your wood
and doesn't destroy
for all we've been through.
There is always a way out,
just seldom the one you prefer
seldom the one of your heart
seldom the one of your coeur

Follow the track
and let nature have it's way
listen to your heart
and let it be that way ...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Blooded rags and rags of bones

Blooded rags and rags of bones,
one day you live,
one day you're gone ...

Give me the drugs,
give me the love,
till it's too much
till it's all the same
till nothing's left and all is gone
of this deserted palace ...
the palace of disarray.

Dance on my grave
When all the possibilities are gone
they all call your name
when the damage is done.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Pondering into the great grey sky
forgetting everything,
even forgot to say goodbye.

Pondering into the great grey sky
no limits
you don't even have to wonder why

Just sail that ocean of clouds
Just become weightless as air carries you around
Just be what you want to be

Sunday, November 1, 2009

It all matters little
in the light of eternity
I'm not fond of eternity though
neither fond of all.

But you?
I like you
One of the few
who can make me laugh ...
Inspiration comes and goes
Memory doesn't stick around
I could offer you wonderfull words
if I were only behind my computer
when the words enter my mind.
In the dark
all you see are shadows
in the dark
all you feel is pain
that enduring suffering
that hits you in the face
over and over again.

I takes a lot of courage, willpower and luck
to get out of that dead end street alley
to be immersed in light
and feel the warm rays of the sun
Just don't forget:
it takes courage, willpower and luck
Just another boring day without you, babe ...

Monday, October 26, 2009

A burning of the savage kind

I can hear the fire
in my mind
a burning of a savage kind

I can hear the waves
rolling in and out
a tranquillizer of the natural kind

I can hear the dust
settling in
for earth is holy
do not distrust the dust.

I can hear the wind
howling in my soul
urging the flames
into a quick and fatal explosion

I can hear the flames
in my mind
a burning of the savage kind.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

It's time to take a stand
open our goddamn mouths
and say, shout!
What we truly believe in

Hiding has no point
the thought police
will track you down
and if you do slip
through those tiny mazes
what will you have done
for the ones after us ...

nothing but a coward's option
to remain silent
and say nothing at all
Let's break the bonds of habitude
Let's strive for a better world
Let's demand the sacrality of life
Freedom of thought,
without being judged.

Let's accept
some people think differently
act differently
see differently
criticize differently.

They too have their rights
and should be granted the freedom
of life the way they want it

Let's pray to dubious gods and idols
for this wish to be granted
once in history
without abuse.
Kneel before society
and you will be saved
into the kingdom of numb thought
you will be praised.
You will get the title 'normal'
and be enslaved
in body, thought, spirit and mind
take this chalice away.
Let me have my own mind ...

Friday, October 23, 2009

Monday, October 19, 2009

There used to be a time when I looked up
and looked down ...

There might have been a time
I was afraid of what could reconcialate ...

But it's time to stand up
of what we are and be proud

For what has made here
is one of a kind.
I might write you a love song,
though it's an unconventional one ...

I might tell you how laught,
though you might not understand our humor ...

I might tell you how we made love
but you wouldn't understand ...

Maybe in a sweet hereafter
we might have the life the ourselves.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

When your in love
there's nothing much to do about it
or write about it ...

Saturday, October 3, 2009


You'ld think when you're on holiday
you are free to go
and do what you want ...
Some people think otherwise.

Sunday, September 20, 2009


Once there was a time
you and I could hold on
to each other,
to memories ...
to the core of your soul.

But you just keep carving
carving in bones so hard
maybe ... just maybe
I still care too much.
Words, sentences ... slip my mind
thoughts come and go
without holding on

if only I had paper ...
too much to remember
too sporadic to scribble down.
It's time, time for me to go
wherever the roads lead me
where there is no place for regret.

I wish there was such a place
let's find out
for a while

Monday, September 14, 2009

When the World will perish
and believe me one day it will
only then you will realise
the importance of coöperation
and the petiness of your wars.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Death is lurking

Cry me a river, moan me a song
Let me act upon the fact
That all could be undone.

Live a life beyond repair
For all ends that ends well
you too won't be spared.

Dig your grave
While humming my song
It's about everything
and nothing at all.

Friday, September 11, 2009

through the wall
of non-compliance.

through your brains
as if a gun held before your head

through divinity
the longing for more
one of a kind.
He crawled where he couldn't go
that's most of his life,
they say, gossiped and conspired

But all I could say was
I had liked the damn fellow
True kindness is hard to be found

And life's injustices
are hardly ever your own fault
Hardly ever ...
't Is what 't is
and was what 't was
far from satisfying
hardly acceptable

So down to the door
to the left
walk through the door and ...

Sunday, September 6, 2009

A new blog for the wicked - contribute!

Incantations in Blue
September 6, 2009

This blog is a new initiative. Not a journal, not a magazine, just a place where good writing can be assembled. Style doesn’t matter, form doesn’t matter … as long as the contributions are good. Language even doesn’t matter, but I would limit it to English, Dutch, French, Italian, Spanish and German. A world of possibilities, let’s see where this goes. Do not hesitate to send me an email ( with your work. A blog where you get to be appreciated for your writing, and who knows who will read ? Now let’s get started!

Saturday, September 5, 2009

A working class hero

The working ants,
the soldier ants
each have their job

by train, by car
every morning
they go out on patrol
to fullfill their job

collecting money
for the queen bee.
A job is what makes you
or breaks you ...
Status is what you get
out of a lousy job
and life rhytme.

Status decided by who?
Certainly not
the most interesting people
out there.
Just the mild mediocre nothingness.
There used to be freedom
freedom ...
Now there's only pressure
pressure ...
to live your life
the way they want
to sleep
to eat
and to work
that's all
all that is expected from you

Friday, September 4, 2009

Update and editing ...

This blog is not the place where I concentrate my activities (cfr. my 'fan'page on facebook and the still growing site but an update doesn't hurt for the moment ...

Since a few weeks I edit profiles of writers for Gloom Cupboard

I'm profiling poets on Outsider Writers and will soon be accepting submissions of poetry for the same site.

From September on I will contribute monthly to Contemporary Literary Horizont

Updates on who appears where, which poets will be profiled etc. will from now on be posted on the mentioned two sites.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Form the twilight up above
came a predicament
a song

a song,
so well known
to our hearts
and our core

A song
that unites and divides
united we stand
divided we fall.
Don't tell me what to do
I can make up my own mind
thank you

Monday, August 31, 2009

The chosen path

One life to live
One dream to die
in the land of plenty
where all is a lie

try it
conquer society's greatness
all you will find
is you get no reward
for living the lie

The place where dreams still fly

't Is about this
and nothing else
A raindrop down your spine
A clash of light in a firefly.

That part of the world
where dreams still fly
like guineapiggs in the sy
or did they confiscate that too?

Thank you B!

Friday, August 28, 2009

Domination, dominance whatever fits ...

How often does a person have to say this?

I have my own life
you have no say over me
I cannot live my life serving your shadow
Whenever you feel like commanding me.
And I don't exist in function of you
Once in a while I have to say no
And as a friend
you should be able to understand
AND accept that.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

My mind wasn't and isn't made
for continual conflict
neither is my body.
Let death be a burden to us all ...
and a salvation to some.

Good friends
as long as one does what they say
Is there still someone out there
that rescpects your freedom of choice?
And actualy realises
the smalness of his own ego
instead of blowing it up
to the present gigantic proportions?
No, I have my own life
You are my friend
But I can't devote my life to driving you around.

One would doubt by times
One really would.

Monday, August 24, 2009

the soother of the soul
when things get rough.

That delightfull lyric
or tune

Give me some of that good stuff
So my mind doesn't go so deep.
The weather changed
so did my mood
not an exception
generaly the rule
at least with me.

"Fall fell
and the clouds will chase around again
over the great blue sky
and my mind.
Fall Fell"

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Think for yourself
then wonder what people might think
and decide you don't care.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Boring, boring ... and boring
so few things still to enchant
find the challenge again
that used to
burn me up.
Dreams so vivid
one could swear they were real
All well when beautiful
Till nightmares appear.

Borders of consciousness crossed
awake or asleep
doet it matter?
As long as it feels real
There are no dreams that limit
endless joy or endless grief.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Rainbows in my mind,
ghostriders in the sky
or was it
ghostriders in my mind,
rainbows in the sky?
I can't really remember ...

I do adore a good summer ...

The sun,
the warmth
cheer up my mind
like a wild buffoon.

Even the longing the travel
rises again.

Sleep comes gently
gliding away
in oblivion's blessing.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

It's like trying to play tennis
and each time the ball comes at you
you keep hitting it in the open air.

I really don't get how some people
deal so easily with the sense of loss
continualy and inherently connected to this life

Saturday, August 15, 2009

All the remnants of night and day
don't keep the demons away
But there used to be a spark
to chase them all around the dark.

Dear morning,
I bid you a good day
I hope your smile
chases the insomnia away.

Dear night
I welcome thee
bring me the salvation
Of a dream more beautiful than me.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

A moment to remember

Walking down the street, sunset, the trees
A guy comes walking by, I look at him
Rather ok, maybe a bit old for me
Changing my perspective to the shop
Passing him by, I hear this:

"And she wants to travel with you ..."

Sometimes it's too bad you don't get to meet people.

Just writing this down
for it's a moment to remember

Just sad and blue

A phonecall
seems to be enough
like a blast from the past
to leave you sad and blue

Where the merry-go-rounds still turn
echoing that typical music
in an abandonded charade of youth

Where love was still so simple
undone of all distress
who could have known
that love is so fragile
that almost anything
can come between two people in love.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

10K Poets challenge - human trafficking

I was up late one night
not an exception
but my weary boots wanted to rove
rove into the night
to taste it's sweet delight

Dancing around in the undertown
neonlights started burning
curiosity kills the cat
or the cat kills curiosity
but I passed a boot and looked inside
A washed away face, of a washed away life
I looked her straight into the eyes

Faded inner beauty
was all I saw,
a hurt soul, a hurt mind
scarred beyond life
no hope to be read
in those blackened eyes.
As if a candle losing it's oxygen
Gasping for breath, gasping for a shine of hope
Gasping slowly choking ...

Ashamed of introspecting such a devastated landscape
I looked at the ground
And all I could think of
was what she had on her mind

And for once I was ashamed
ashamed I was
because -
despite all my scars -
I knew I had it better
fighting to keep my candle alight
where all I could see there
was gasp, gasp, gasp ...
The words were spoken
and silence fell
who would react
and how

Nobody knew
She wanted her to be happy
so happy ...
She was never supposed to know.
She will never know.

Just wondering

Did I hurt you with my smile?
My laughter joyous again
as it once used to be

Do you think I'm flirting
because I smile and laugh
laugh and smile again?

It's just a wounded heart
slowly opening again
to whom she used to be

I may have my scars
but that? It's Life
But broken I am not!

Monday, August 10, 2009

Have mercy

I was reaching for you
like for a ghost on sandals of clay
I tried to touch you
but all I felt was dust and prayer

Watch over me
my guardian angels
Watch me in my sleep
Watch me as I ride through the darkness
In the hope for a better day.

La déception humaine

Maybe one day they will all realise it
Maybe not ...
Probably not.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

How to preorder "Quills of Fire" by M. Campiz and L. Vanelslander

Payment can be made on:

Accountnumber: BE44 5794 2754 1245
International code ARSPBE22

By paypal: Lena Vanelslander, emailaddress:

With both: mention your home address (so I can send the book when the time comes) and which option you prefer of the possibilities.

"Quills of Fire" by Marilyn Campiz and Lena Vanelslander can be pre-ordered from now. For people from Belgium or a neighbouring country: 15 euros basic price, 17,5 euro autographed by one author, 20 euro for autographs from us both. People from other countries (my apologies the difference is due to shipping costs) 15 euros basic, 20 euro autographed by one author, 25 euros autographed by both authors. The shipping costs ... America - Belgium - South-Korea the triangle is not selfevident ... The price include shipping costs! But this advantage will only be a prerogative during the period of preordering!

A book of poetry sprung from the minds of two women with their own particular view on the world and themes as love, darkness, art, ... Different angles, perspectives and views ... East meeting West ... let them penetrate and resonate through your body.

I also have the honour to announce our publisher is PublishAmerica ... as I didn't mention this before.

Friday, August 7, 2009


The star
The full moon
The Rainbow's end
And the butterflies were there

For an amazing turn in events
Trying to save
What was left
of hell's fury.

Thursday, August 6, 2009


Sweet voices
from afar
calling a campfire
to sing around

The culture
smell it, the scent
how I long to be there
how I long for a home

Maybe I just belong to
a gypsy's heart
a gypsy's culture
Just a thought

To roam around
To arove gently
from place to place
from life to life.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

"Quills of Fire" by Marilyn Campiz and Lena Vanelslander available for pre-order

"Quills of Fire" by Marilyn Campiz and Lena Vanelslander can be pre-ordered from now. For people from Belgium or a neighbouring country: 15 euros basic price, 17,5 euro autographed by one author, 20 euro for autographs from us both. People from other countries (my apologies the difference is due to shipping costs) 15 euros basic, 20 euro autographed by one author, 25 euros autographed by both authors. The shipping costs ... America - Belgium - South-Korea the triangle is not selfevident ... The price include shipping costs! But this advantage will only be a prerogative during the period of preordering!

A book of poetry sprung from the minds of two women with their own particular view on the world and themes as love, darkness, art, ... Different angles, perspectives and views ... let them penetrate and resonate through your body.

I also have the honour to announce our publisher is PublishAmerica ... as I didn't mention this before.

© Guido Van Bastelaere, 2005.

Author bio: Lena Vanelslander swam many waters; history, comparative culture analysis, languages. It all pertained to her study. Self-study however remained the most important thing, Mythology, Literature, Poetry, too many to sum up. Her career in poetry started briefly by a prize for European Poetry when she was eight but she remained writing more passively in her native language untill her twenties. After a life of tribulations the turning point came in her mid twenties: she started to write actively poetry in English and was showered with positive critique. Her melancholic and darkminded nature colour her poems to an individual signature in both time and space. Several poems got published, mainly in the Stray Branch, The Delinquent and Savage Manners. Her first chapbook ‘Ma Chanson de Rien du Tout’ has been released August 2009. This work of poetry and finesse, art, contain her first amount of prior unreleased poetry. Besides writing poetry she became also active in networking for poetry and spoken word. She has joined the association of ‘De Schuunschgreivers’ in Ghent, an alternative writing group pertaining to ‘Bij De Vieze Gasten’. She actively seeks to engage even more for poetry and art, but does face one boundary: in Belgium most poetry-associations only honour Dutch poetry. Therefore her commitment is more worldwide and webdirected. You can find her on the main social networking sites of this age. The future? The future is yet to be told. The story of her life continues each day, with each step made. To maintain a dream is one thing, to realise it another. Consider this work the realisation of a dream!

© Marilyn Campiz, 2008.

Author bio: Marilyn Campiz is a self-described life adventurer, an ordinary woman who has done extraordinary things. Her journies have taken her around the world where she became entranced with the universal themes that both plague and pleasure humanity. Her life experience has taken her from the stages in Europe to a broadcasting booth in Minneapolis, Minnesota as a youth to 20 years of service in the US Air Force. She views her present role, of ex-patriot English teacher in Deagu, South Korea, as just the beginning of another chapter in her life. A life long writer and poet, striving to go beyond what has rendered before. Bringing the conversation back, to what is poetry or form. She has contributed to literary magazines, expatriot journals, art projects and is the author of The Paris Diaries and the poetess of The Erotic Writings of Unobtainable. Inspired by the words of Arthur Rimbaud, Henry Miller, Jim Morrison, Poe and Faulkner, with a heavy wink to Orwellian thought. “In an age where hope and truth are rare commodities. Where fraud and corruption have poisoned our waters. When thoughts are consumed with fear...we now see the illusions of all we once held dear are phantoms.”

Monday, August 3, 2009

The deserted shorelines of loneliness

From the deserted shoreline
I watch the waves crash
one by one they enter nomansland
one by one they fade away
At least they went out with a blast

Always alone, always together
Like a community in itself
Wandering if their are waves
Who can feel as lonely as me?


Lift me from this burden
Ease the pain away
Sway me in the darkness
Till light appears again

I still say yes to this life.
Drink your wine
your blood's refreshment
Eat your meal
and compost it
only for the weary
Till you drop dead

No wonder some people just lose their senses ...
Creatures of the night
Seahorses of the Earth
Show me your Light
like a beacon of calm and silence
So I can waver along the sea
and find my destiny.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Talking to yourself
Or under another form
does miracles!
I have to prepare myself for the nightmare ...
another birthday coming up
Days vanish like smoke in the air
But the smog of your life is clouding the sky
Slowly you go towards it
killing yourself day by day
Even if it just means ...
growing old.

Friday, July 31, 2009

A moment of solemn joy

My firstborn :-)
... book that is coming, not there yet, but definitely coming.

When I heard the news
it was 2 am ...
I was happy, since ages
till I realised
I had noone to share it with
And then the tears came.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

A talesome tell

Merciless he stood beside her feet
The final stroke was about to blow
When he heard this sound
An awkward moaning, whaling if you will.

Checking out, god knows there would be testifies
He came into a pink room
where a small baby waited for milk
Stretching it's innocent hands
to the blooded bat in his hands.

For a second he was confused
As if this rock of a heart
had been touched for the first time in so many years
Would he spare her, or orphan a child?
A tear rolled down his cheek,
he stood up and cast the final stone.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

When a heartbeat drives you mad

There used to be a thing called respect.
Friends? Where are they when you need them ...
Parents? You're an adult, take care of yourself.
Siblings? Maybe the good ones, the bad ones however ...
Love? If it comes your way and that's a big if
Loniless? All of my life.

I know what I'm worth and expect to be treated according to that.
I know my worth ...

Something new, old and borrowed.

Something new
A sunrise to set
A rainbow to catch
In a world of possibilities
If it were only true ...
I'ld agree.

Something old
Memories gone by
painfull or to cherrish
good and bad
something in between?
All I know is from a torn soul
Less good than bad, but some ...
some in that undefinable grey zone
we call life.

Something borrowed
Traits of your personality
Some sanctified, some disdained
From furious anger till passion unlimited
Let's just say ...
that the world itself is limited.

Something new, something old and something borrowed
The marriage can begin
Open the curtains
It's showtime
Let the audience in!

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Boring times

Such boring days, such boring times
it seems the greatest news that Cohen is still alive
where is the taste, the finesse
recognising that pearl and take it for what it is?

Not just materialy, on the human side too
If you discover a pearl, cherish it
and don't try to change it into a pendant
cause a pendant it will never be ...

maybe it's just me ...

Monday, July 27, 2009

Words don't come that easily
When all is said and done
Maybe I was wrong
and you have no surface
Maybe I was wrong
and you are actualy proud of it
Maybe I was wrong
and maybe you don't have no surface
Shallow is what I saw

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Ode to a donkey ...

You drove me to madness
or did I do it myself?

Let the rain wash away
the soiled black dust
to start a new ...
a new phase, a new life

but actualy,
only you were in the way this time
In this heated can of disarray
I didn't even look behind
and said goodbye, my love
you weren't worth the time ...

p.s. disclaimer, this is not to be taken personal by noone who reads this blog ;-)

Friday, July 24, 2009

Slide along the river,
sway along the tide
Let your body glide now
free from all behind

Free from all behind now
the hardship, the pain
that your mind has to endure

Let your body slide now
sway along the tide
glide along the river
free from all behind
Let my touch inflame your fire
Let my kiss intoxicate your desire
Allow me to love you
As you deserve ...
Allow yourself to be loved
even if it's unsure

To be in love was all that mattered
You didn't have to define or engender
I loved you for who you were
But you rose expectations
Only to withdraw ...

Who knew but him?

Gracefully she turned
her words were said
her deeds were done
all that was to remain
were the memories ...
hidden deep inside.

But, ...
if only he would have argued
would have swayed her into staying.
She would have been glad
and would have had more than memories
to abide

Thursday, July 23, 2009

A familiar hand touched my shoulder
sitting while I sang my incantation in blue
I didn't turn around for a moment,
cause for sure he would have seen the raindorps too
But I held my head, chanted instead an swallowed the tears away
To be able to greet him, as he deserved, as I did
My companion in crime, my soulmate in space,
cause for us time just doesn't seem to have a place.

Your touch would have driven away a week of tears
Your kiss a lifetime of memories
Your love would have made me happy
That's all it was ...
... and is.
And silence came over me ...

Watching the rain drown ...
Drown itself in the dirt,
the dirt of yesterdays hurt
The pain that drags you around
The soil never to be bound
Just the remains of nightly whispers
of the first cut
of the last

All will pass ...
Whether we want to or not

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

There was a will to live
and a will to stay
But to answer to your question?
Yes, I am tired yet

And so many more to come
Loss, grief, death
all a part of life
all a part of numb

Maybe it was meant to be this way
To suffer as one does
I still don't seem to comprehend
How futile, secondary and fast
Others seem to deal
with pain, loss and grief
Or is it considered
just a minor twist in their egocentricity?

Yes Love, I am tired yet ...

Monday, July 20, 2009

10 euros for a professionaly printed limited edition of poetry accompanied with art designed for my birthday. Everyone who wants one say ay!

Saturday, July 18, 2009


Dreams of the dead
awake sleeping memories

Dreams of exes
give joy and repent

Dreams of before
become nothing at all

Dreams of now
to be realised

Dreams of the future
so lucid, so bright
but also too high
for a creature
of this planitude
To reach up against the sun
and sway that dream
till the morning comes.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Stolen delight

There used to be a nightingale
that sang a song each night I prayed.
Too bad I lost that heavenly sound
the day my hopes and dreams were smashed away.

Bright eyes

There used to be passion
running through my veins.
But the only one who seems
to answer to this plight
Is you my traveling man
A star that shines so bright.

There used to be fire
deepened with hardened desire.
I saw your fire burn
In your eyes ...
Oh so bright.

I feel lost my traveling man
maybe our paths will cross again
maybe not,
but if they do,
do not forget
to sing me that lullaby
That you promised me too soon.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009


I'm good at pretending
pretending all is fine
pretending life isn't a bitch
pretending life is a precious gift.

Let's stop pretending
and be honest for a change
how many of you 'abnormal' people
would give this life a second chance

Oh to do it all over again
the thought makes me shiver
the loneliness, the heartache,
not to mention the pain
the pain that runs so deeply through my veins.

Dance upon the music vibes

But I feel so sad ...

Dance for me
on the winds of change
Guide me
through the rough ends of the rain

Guide me gently
in a morning dance
slide with me
till passion ends

And if that doesn't help
Let's run around naked in the rain
And taste that warm salty liquid
feel the grass between our toes
and make love, like we never did before.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Message interrupted ...

Drained from emotions
From energy
From Time
I see the nearest goal in sight
Persist, damned
If it's not up to you
you wouldn't have gotten this far.

Pain is what a man causes to weep ...
Hope is what a woman causes to rejoice ...
Maybe they're the same and both
and both and the same
but still there is a little difference
between a woman's hope and a man's grief.

Blue be the colour of the night

I was worried
of what you might think
reading for the first time
my thoughts, my feelings, my wims ...

As it will be for many
many belonging to real life
but I will accept your opinion
because I know, most of the time?
You're darn right.

There's so much still inside of me
Waiting to be written, told, laughed and joked about
Maybe there will be a time for that
But if not: happy to have known you,
no matter how brief it was.

Incantation in blue - mandelbrotia - by Alex Bustillo

Monday, July 13, 2009

It's just never enough with you is it?

"It's just never enough with you is it? Always wanting more, always needing more to be satisfied!" She became silent and stared in the mirror ...

I wish I hadn't forgotten my sense of humour at the scene of the crime ...

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

A good fuck.

I lost my will to live
she said ...

Nothing some good old marvellous sex can't fix
he replied.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Blablabla the kid's gotta have a name

I don't know why I'm doing what I do
I don't know why I am the way I am
- or partly I do,
still so much to discover about myself ...

Enjoy the moment,
Enjoy the day
Enjoy the leaf
that comes your way.

I hardly have pictures of myself
I think have more pics of my boots
So I dolled around today
To examine my metamorphosis
with closer looks

Monday, July 6, 2009

Windows free my mind

Windows of uncertain closing
that should be open
Windows where you can only see a glimpse
of a closed mind

Once my windows were shut
But luckily somebody reminded me
You might get hurt, but isn't it worth a shot
To discover all out there
Visit other minds
Why are you so closed my girl,
so confined.

Set those windows free in the blazing wind
the burning sun, the freezing cold
For if not, you will not have lived at all ...

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Distinct milestones of little value.
It all means so much
and nothing at the same time.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

The grapevine

The grapevine told me this morning ... The other work being practicaly finished ... I can continue here again - even if it's just for a while, a moment snapped in time, a moment where I can be myself, if you know what I mean ... Thank you Marilyn!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Ode to a madman

There used to be a madman
That told me stories from the street
Everyone said: mind your own business!
But he wanted me to learn, to teach.

Oh how do I grieve upon his passing
Those hours in the night, moon in sight
and booze to warm us up
I would say, thank you my friend
Thank you for educating me to the world.

Your advice was to the point,
Your lessons unforgettable
For to survive in Real Life
you just need that kind of background.

Thank you for giving me an open mind
To know what the world was about
instead of the fairytales of before
You told me the truth so bold.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

The coolness of a midsummernight ...

You can't sleep
though you're not down and out
The energy flows
Like a lightning in the sky
For this moment alone
No need to wonder why
Just take a deep breath
Listen to the birds' song
and enjoy.

And his name was ...

There was a blessing and then a curse
Noone knew what they meant
Till Murphy showed up and said:
If something can go wrong it will ...
The end.

Unfinished and drained by the other stuff, I will write you something good soon!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Death makes angels of us all

I'm really not in the mood to write a lot as I'm allready writing about two poems daily (the treasure is hidden in a blue velvet enveloppe, shh! It's a secret ... it might reach you some day, some time, some place ... but not now).

So let's just enjoy this evening in real life under a moonlit sky, some good blues in the background, a drink and above all good company.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Just bored.

There was this song
I couldn't remember
But the tune played in my head
since last december

Let's sing over the lost remembrance
of safety and security
Let's feast upon the bodies
of the unloving

Maybe there was
maybe there wasn't
But there was you and me
and me and you
The rest of the world?
I don't know anymore,
I thought I knew.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009


I would like to write you a thousand fairytales, but life is hardly a fairytale. I would like to write you a thousand myths though it must be said, life does resemble myths sometimes. I would like to write you a thousand comedies, but let's be honest: life is only a comedy for the highly gifted ironics among us. I would like to write you a thousand and one stories but stories tend to get so boring. I would like to write you a thousand drama's, but life is not always a drama. Maybe one day I will succeed in combining fairytales, mythology, comedy, storytelling and dramatology so I can present you a qualitative tale about life.

I don't write every day, how could I?

Let your imagination work.

Friday, June 12, 2009

On n'oublie jamais, on vie avec ...

Tell me why
- I never knew

Tell me why
- so I can understand

Tell me why
- so I can keep respecting you

Tell me why
- so I can live without ...

Sometimes there is just no why to be answered.

Sometimes you just have to learn to live without ...

Thursday, June 11, 2009

The song of the nightingale ...

There used to be an angel
There used to be a song
That guided the heavenly choir
to protect the right from wrong.

Now I don't know what happened
I don't know what went wrong
But the tales of the untold
Burnt deep in each of our songs.

Maybe Prometheus made a visit
Maybe G-d decided different
But today we still hear the tales
Of the nightingale's songs.

Blind me, conquer me
creature of the night
Sing for me, weep for me
untill the morninglight.

Something, not quite sure what ...

For all those waisted hours
For all those waisted trains
For all those waisted moments in life
For all those sleepless nights ...

I don't know what I'm writing
But it sure as hell releases some of the pain,
just to be born all over again ...

Mapplethorphe~~Flower~~Archer by Alex Bustillo

Mapplethorphe~~Flower~~Archer by Alex Bustillo

The poppy: a flower that symbolises so much for me ... maybe I can find that poem back in my confusing archives ... found!

The poppy

I was there
For everyone to see ...

It was there
For everyone to see ...

The crisping ashes of the past
Showed the remainders of the day ...
On the ruins of the last
A flower bloomed ...

A poppy
The only flower
that endures war.

(that blooms ...

on the graves of the past)

Born to lose …

Life is a tricky thing
Because in order to be happy
You don’t only receive small miracles
You also have to let them go

And in some cases
That’s just easier
Than in others

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Demeter in Search of Persephone by Alex Bustillo

With permission of Alex Bustillo from I present you Demeter in Search of Persephone (with butterfly! A huge one)

Memories of you.

Rolling through the blankets of insomnia's time
I can't help but think back to the days
Where the first blank nights were mine.

And then there was you
Fulfilled and by your side,
spooned up and curled inside
Softly whispering, your hand on my belly
You made it all disappear,
You made it all fade away.

I might have had lovers since
And they made me sleep as lovers do
But those crazy nights
I fell in love with you
Are burned on my memory
Like true lovers do.

You know who you are
the one with the velvet wings
who could carry me all night long
through the land where all was dream.

Catch the tiger by the toe ...

I don't know
I don't care
But if I didn't know
How can I know
whether I care or not
So I must care
Because I don't know.

My tower of song ...

I asked to Hank Williams
How lonely does it get,
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I can still hear him coughing
One hundred floors above me
In the tower of song ...

Leonard Cohen.

Temporary People by Steven Gillis

Temporary People by Steven Gillis

Temporary People, Steven Gillis. Black Lawrence Press, 2008. $15.08 - $20.95, US.

Temporary People by Steven Gillis is one of the best fiction novels published over the past few years. The subtitle designating his work as a fable deserves credit. Departing from aspects of our reality and our literature heritage, the author creates a brand new society. Examples of real data are given in the book. In terms of literature, let us not ignore the major influence of books like 1984 by George Orwell. However, he succeeds in giving the story a whole new touch. Departing from a completely different point of view and voice of the author, he succeeds in bringing the reader questions, symbolism, cruelty and tenderness in the most unexpected situations.

A short context: Bamarita is an invented country with a tradition of rebellions. This land is governed by a dictator and situates itself in our perception of our world, events and political possibilities. Questioning by the author is separately discussed below. Symbolism will be illustrated with one example. Two towers are built by the main characters of the book, both with a dissident view on rebellion – dissident from the opinion of most Bamaritans. The towers symbolise the tower of Babel as no one really listens to each other but are mainly stuck in their own point of view. Hence understanding and effective communication on how a rebellion should be conducted, is hard to find. Certainly the point of view of the protagonist who built the first tower is questioned as he tries to turn to peacefull resistance. Perilious situations evoke emotions, cruelty and tenderness both know their extremes in this book and the author succeeds in making them more than human, touching and so intense on the least expected moments.

From an idealistic point of view this work of fiction could be viewed as a severe criticism on the modern society of America, this again by using the literary concept of a fable, avoiding censorship and political issues. Steven Gillis will certainly not be the first to use this medium and form to criticise and discuss some major aspects and evolutions of American society as it is and was under the government of Bush. Let us hope his work raises important questions in asking how a society could be run. The true beauty of the above perspective is found in his writing as one can find nowhere a ready made answer or a dictated view on how things should be run. Merely questioning and considering pros and cons of political organisation of a society and the different forms of rebellion are the issues offered to the reader. By feeding a critical mind and analysing options quite succesfully the talented author again succeeds in what almost seems impossible to obtain from a fable.

As political organisation and the use of different rebellionstrategies are questioned, ruled out and then ruled in, the story takes on the identity of a fable. If one subject leaves the reader pondering, it is certainly the consequences of rebellious acts. But let us not draw too much on the content: the story is there to be discovered! The reader gets fully caught up in the story, not in the least because the author often writes from an the perspective of an eye-witness, which engages the reader but remains a very hard task to accomplish in a completely imagined environment. Another consequence of this writerperspective lies in the fact that the reader finds himself in the middle of the story. The style of the author is fast, to the point and differs ever from the environment. These are some of the major points, but most importantly they all bring you an enticing, fascinating and excellent story. Once you start reading, you don't stop.

p.s. to keep my blog complete I will insert once in a while a piece from guestblogging. This review can be found too on

Tuesday, June 9, 2009


From now on I will write once in a while pieces for the blog of Alex Bustillo. You can find his work at various blogs ... interesting to say the least! Whenever something is posted I will let you know. For the moment you can find the reviews of Temporary People and The Paris Diaries there and a piece on poetry and music. You can find his link always in the sidebar ...

There used to be an angel ...

There used to be an angel that carried your name, far from above it would keep you sain ... You knew you would be protected, be immersed in it's light. For there was noone on earth who could keep you tight. For every negative fact, a new outcome arose. For every difficulty ahead, the slayers were allready reborn. So I ask, what has happened to you. You had all the luck in the world, did it finaly hear your refusal, your ultimate word?

Monday, June 8, 2009

The quest

I was on a quest for everything
but nothing appeared
So I turned around disappointed
to a quest for nothing
and everything appeared.

Just listen ...

Create ...

Let the Teacher speak
Let the magic do it's work
Let the muses play their song
And whisper lullabies so sweet

Let the Apprentice stay silent
For he needs to learn to listen
inside the Darkness around him
to the sound of magic, muses and lullabies.

Give me a butterfly before sunset
And happy I will be
Give me a rain-bow to dance
Under a sky covered in grey.

Dance barefoot
in grass of rain
Dance naked
To ease darkness' pain away.

Sunday, June 7, 2009


You can touch me
but still you can't feel my grip
You can love me
but still you can't feel my heart
You can kill me
but still you can't reach my soul

Maybe one day someone will
Maybe some day someone allready has.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Il était une fois ...

Once upon a time …

Why am I here? Behind my desk … slowly opening the curtains after a long and needed silence. Why am I here? Writing to you while the sun shines … shines so marvelously. Because I have something to say, something to say about the marvel of life, the intensity of pain, the intensity of love. One can only attempt to strive for ideals in an imperfect world. But perfection doesn’t always imply perfection in your first goal, the road will change, diverge, show obstacles – sometimes impossible to surmount. This being part of life I will tell you a story …

Once upon a time there was a little girl that dreamed. Dreaming about the world, dreaming about time and history. Her life was to be relevant, to be meaningful, meaningful to the world. Hardly however she dared to dream the impossible: writing this story to you. The silence before the storm did serve her well … But for now we remain in the past, dreaming away, swaying the mind, body and soul. Time to purge the ancient enemies of love, death, abuse and absolute control in order to regain sight of the dream of once before.

Once upon a time there was a little girl that dreamed … aloud …


Dreaming away
of a far off place
a far off strand
of that special kind
where dreams could be born
where roses had no thorns
where life was long and exciting
in the clouded city of a mind
clouds that drift by so fast ...

Drifting ...

Drifting ...
Drifting along the tide
along the moon
along the side.
Where battlefields are born
where loved ones get torn
where life has new meaning
where flowers are worn
Drifting ...
Drifting along the tide
along the moon
along the side.

Clouds were her guide and to endless drifting she did abide.
Joy was to the world as the world was to joy. Life was a miracle that had to be lived.

Just a twist of faith

There was a time where time stood still,
There was a place where noone could go,
There was a song that only the nightingales could hear.

Some people believe in destiny
Others believe in fortune
Few believe in faith.

Just have faith.

Some people believe in honesty
Others believe they are honest,
Few are honest.

For some rain is water
Others believe it to be part of the circle of life
Few believe these are teardrops from angels above.

Friday, June 5, 2009

From Bitter Searching of the Heart (cfr. Frank Scott)

"From bitter searching of the heart": The Paris Diaries by Marilyn Campiz

When a book makes the heart weep one could say a masterpiece is born. When a book is written with blood, one could say a masterpiece is born. When a book is written from the heart ... one could say we witness the birth of a masterpiece, so few of those still written the present day.

The Paris Diaries tell us a story of love and friendship, in a world where love seems to has ceased to exist. This autobiographic report by Marilyn Campiz relates us her journey of love, her search for more in this world, life and passion. Let's not reveal too much of the content, the theme is enough to know how deep one can go and has gone. Honest and brutal, explicit and implicit, the author touches the core of a burden so well known. What makes her work innovating is the content, vision, ideas and writingstyle. I would love to give you a detailed report, but I must say this: this journey is a journey to discover, through her words, eyes and heart. A journey one has to make and feel by him or herself. I would love to praise this book with the dearest adjectives I know but for once believe what I say and let the journey surprise you as her words sway away with your heart. I have written reviews, clean, pure, the way they should be, so often ... often enough to know that a standard review can only diminish the value of this book. If I have made you curious, I have succeeded, if not believe me when I say you will be missing out on a discovery through the mind, soul, body and heart of what could be.

Just believe ...

The leaves of yesterday.

A new wind
Announced by my faithfull companion,
the butterfly.

Great plans ahead
Better left unsaid
But will it really 'be'
After so many times upset.

Take life by the horns
And see what comes of it
Better than waiting for bad news
That will come evidently,
To this particular homestead ...

Thursday, June 4, 2009


There used to be an elephant that walked me down the stairs
There used to be a sheppard who considered me his longlost child
There used to be a painter ...

In dreams and happiness I lost it all, maybe I'll get another chance.

On the road again ...

Ma chanson de rien du tout …

Where to start but here? At the center of the universe … closer, closer, closer … we will remain.

But how? Sheherazade would say: I tell a story every night to survive. I have to, that ex of his, has stuffed it up pretty nicely for me. She was unfaithful … not me! Because of his jealousy I have tell a story every night as proof of my loyalty towards him? Nice! There goes mutual confidence, emancipation and equal rights! But every night would be just a touch too much ... quantity is less relevant. If it would be a fairytale? That will point itself out, once upon a time there was ... like a meandering road full of bumps and holes... but I can tell you this: ce sera ma chanson de rien du tout ...

A song I will sing to thee letting the willow weep for you. My song as it envelops my views on the world, my experiences, my visions, … But then again what are these observations in the light of eternity? Nothing at all … That’s why I bring you my song about nothing at all, ma chanson de rien du tout.

A word of gratitude is in place for this would not have reached you if it weren’t for Marilyn Campiz. Her belief and motivating power were the constant catalyst for this writing and project. The decisive role of others will become clear in the story itself. The best expression of what they mean to me.