A slow pain

there's a slow pain
penetrating my heart
I think somehow
I'm almost certain
almost convinced
it has reached
each and every part
it must be love
there's a slow pain
penetrating my heart

strong talk of what you have
talk of what it is
to be on top of things
seems all so very important
I don't need it so much
only thing I can think of
is it in you to love
'cause a slow pain is
penetrating my heart

all the strong talk
cannot diguise
cannot even hide
what's going on inside
what's happening to you
I can only guess what I see
it must be love you need
something you could get
if you just don't let it be

now you've stopped
your eyes lock into mine
with a strange tempting look
and you feel a slow pain on the rise
it shows in your eyes
I read in it your thoughts
I know what you've got
a slow pain's penetrating
your heart

(c) JR. eightees-ninetees

A house with many rooms

in a house with many rooms
all with a part of my life
I'm dusting them one by one
see what I find

it's bits and pieces
and I don't see what I like
been making some wrong turns
those doors are closing in my face
got to open them up again

and I can't let go of those memories
they're so much a part of me
even though they're bad
they're all I ever had

I seem to have lost the key
a world has turned me out
gonna build a new one
those doors will open loud

and the house it will be standing
as it always did with closed doors
they will open up once more
with the many rooms
with all the memories

so let me live my life
I've lived hard and long
it will pass
and I'll walk along

(c) JR. eightees-ninetees

Empty

empty is how I feel
empty where it hurts
can feel the pain
when I see her again
going through that door
just don't seem to take it
as well as I did before
my armour is showing fatigue
my strenght is getting weak
a battle has not yet been won

I must hold on as long as I can
take it for another run
and I'm feeling empty
tired of playing that same old game
over and over again
but I must go on
see the setting of yet another sun
it will be many days and nights
'till again she will arive

and she knows I'll be waiting
like all those years before
she'll stay, laugh and play
'till emptiness hits back
when she has left
with it dies my laugh
I just don't seem to take it
as well as I did before
how long must this go on
'till I can settle the score

(c) JR. eightees

Uncut diamond

a raw uncut diamond she was

witnessing the making of an angel

knocking me senseless

with her undying

love

(c) JR 2020

Wondering

we miss what we feel
and feel what we miss
it is out there somewhere

can we have it can we hold it
can we wonder where we are
or...might be

it's something we miss
and we miss what we feel
we know what it is
this what we think is it real
we wonder

and if we would find each other
would we be complete
we wonder

our wondering is complete

(c) JR. 2020

Voetstappen

boos
stampvoetend
liep ze de deur uit
het pad af de duinen in
schoppend
op het plat getreden pad
tegen
begraven stenen, gestorven bloemen
verdroogde grassprieten

het was een van die dagen
dat het leven, even niet meezat
maar dan kust de zilte lucht
je lippen
stuift het zand om je heen
hoor je de roep van de meeuwen

daarboven is het leven een feest
en
begrijp je des te meer
dat het ook voor jou een feest
kan zijn
dat jouw verongelijkte ongelijk
misschien wat overdreven kan zijn

hier zo aan de zee, kom je tot rust
maakt dat je vergeet, dat degene
waar je zo veel van houdt
soms gelijk heeft

de weg terug is er dan één
van vergeving en kan je gewoonweg
niet wachten, tot die ander dat weet

(c) JR. 2020

De zomer bijna voorbij

langzaam
trekt de nacht zich terug
wanneer het zicht krijgt
op de nieuwe dag
het licht legt
een spectrum
aan kleur neer
over de diversiteit
aan vorm
en
soort in de natuur

teder speelt de zon
in zijn nadagen
met de rust
die huist
in de valleien
bergen en vlakten

waar het zo integer
en
puur is
dat het niet eens
opvalt

het is slechts
de verbazing van
een toevallige wandelaar
waar
dat uit blijkt

de zomer ziet
de herfst
in zijn coulissen wachten
en
weet zijn zomer
bijna voorbij

(c) JR. 2020

voorgedragen op 2-2-2020 in De Verbeelding in Zeewolde

bij een expositie van Kup 11  geschilderd door Ingrid Los-Zentveld