I was raised by hysterics
the bed in my barracks
afforded me views of the sky
and so trained by the clouds
neither troubled nor aloud
I was calmed by their silence inside
to let go
casting about with nothing to show
when it rains on the barracks
the raindrops on barebacks of prisoners leaning through windows
from clouds drifting free strewn and bound endlessly
unbothered by which way the wind blows that go along
casting about and nothing is wrong
when the body the bones and the blood are all light and water that flows
from day into night
when the pool and the puncture are painless and bright i am here
i am here
in this life of hysterics
behold simple lyrics
my mind complicates and entraps
but like knotted necklaces
yanked when you’re wreckless
some golden links fall in my lap
skies from which i cowered
bring forth only showers
that soften stuck in the heart
now fingers drift outwards
from fists into flowers
that spring from the mud in the earth
i’ll let go
casting about there’s nothing to hold
casting about, by dianne cluck
homage to dutch aesthetics
(some of the pamphlets, tickets, posters I’ve collected during my stay in Holland)
long time no see
nisam vise u holandiji (fizicki) . ne znam gdje sam tacno (ovih dana).
ovo ce biti (malo) drugacije.
from now on will write in English. (sem u posebnim prilikama).
