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  1. Gérard de Nerval: Pensée de Byron – Élégie
  2. Sibylla SCHWARZ: Ach, Amor, nimb dein schwäres Joch von mir
  3. In Her Own Words. The Life and Poetry of Aelia Eudocia by Brian P. Sowers
  4. Ton van Reen: Het diepste blauw (082). Een roman als feuilleton
  5. Jean Cocteau – Metamorphosis in Den Bosch NL
  6. Emily Dickinson: I’m Nobody! Who are you?
  7. Saki: The Romancers (short story)
  8. Jacques Vaché: Lettres de guerre (1914-1918)
  9. The Unknown Poe. An Anthology of Fugitive Writings by Edgar Allan Poe
  10. Rüdiger Görner: Rainer Maria Rilke. Im Herzwerk der Sprache
  11. François Audouy: Antonin Artaud le sur-vivant. Essai
  12. Kafka and Noise. The Discovery of Cinematic Sound in Literary Modernism by Kata Gellen
  13. William S. Burroughs: “The Revised Boy Scout Manual”. An Electronic Revolution
  14. Ton van Reen: Het diepste blauw (081). Een roman als feuilleton
  15. The Hatred of Literature by William Marx
  16. Best of Delphine Lecompte. Poëzie
  17. Pierre-Brice-Edition “Über Nacht war ich Winnetou!” von Hella Brice
  18. Russian Absurd. Selected Writings of Daniil Kharms
  19. Gertrud Kolmar: Sehnsucht
  20. We Begin in Gladness. How Poets Progress by Craig Morgan Teicher
  21. Ton van Reen: Het diepste blauw (080). Een roman als feuilleton
  22. Boris Cyrulnik & Patrick Lemoine: Histoire de la folie avant la psychiatrie
  23. Frankenstein: The 1818 Text by Mary Shelley
  24. Robert Bridges: To Joseph Joachim
  25. Music, stories, absinthe and more during ‘The Green Hour’ with Oscar Wilde
  26. Nieuwe dichtbundel Marieke Lucas Rijneveld: Fantoommerrie
  27. Wintertuinfestival Nijmegen van 20-25 november 2018
  28. Maudits mots. La fabrique des insultes racistes par Marie Treps
  29. Rüdiger Görner: Georg Trakl. Dichter im Jahrzehnt der Extreme
  30. Ton van Reen: Het diepste blauw (079). Een roman als feuilleton
  31. Nadine Akkerman: Invisible Agents Women and Espionage in Seventeenth-Century Britain
  32. Mauro Libertella – Mijn begraven boek
  33. Antonin Artaud – Le Visionnaire Hurlant par Laurent Vignat
  34. Ton van Reen: Het diepste blauw (078). Een roman als feuilleton
  35. The Choice. Embrace the Possible by Edith Eva Eger
  36. Hans-Dieter Rutsch: Der Wanderer. Das Leben des Theodor Fontane
  37. Alice Zeniter: De kunst van het verliezen
  38. Armistice of 11 November 1918/2018 – Wilfred Owen: Dulce et Decorum Est (Poem)
  39. Gertrude Stein: Roche
  40. Kafka’s Other Prague. Writings from the Czechoslovak Republic by Anne Jamison
  41. Hans Hermans: Landscape (104)
  42. Marie Modiano: Pauvre chanson et autres poèmes
  43. Three Poems by Hannah Sullivan
  44. Paris Photo 2018 from 8 – 11 november in Grand Palais Paris
  45. Lezing Ton van Reen over: Vreemdelingen in eigen huis
  46. Saki: Dusk (short story)
  47. Ton van Reen: Het diepste blauw (077). Een roman als feuilleton
  48. Hervé Prudon: Devant la mort. Poésie
  49. Du Bois’s Telegram: Literary Resistance and State Containment by Juliana Spahr
  50. Nieuwe editie Verzamelde gedichten J. Slauerhoff

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Bert Bevers: Yorkshire Dales

 

 

Yorkshire Dales


Eenzaam land, al in dit kader wijde wereld.

Tegen voorzichtige bergen figureert klein vee.

Ochtend vervloeit in middag, als had het zin.


Donkere honden sluipen schuren binnen.

Onweer ontrolt: waakzame ooien plaatsen zich

voor al te dartel kroost. Bij bliksemflitsen


schieten hun blikken neerwaarts als reigerhalzen.


Bert Bevers

Uit: Afglans – Gedichten 1972-1997, Uitgeverij WEL, Bergen op Zoom, 1997, ISBN 90 6230 080 4


kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: Bevers, Bert

William Shakespeare: Sonnet 90

William Shakespeare

(1564-1616)

THE SONNETS

 

90

Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,

Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,

join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,

And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Ah do not, when my heart hath ‘scaped this sorrow,

Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,

Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,

To linger out a purposed overthrow.

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,

When other petty griefs have done their spite,

But in the onset come, so shall I taste

At first the very worst of fortune’s might.

And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,

Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.

 

kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: -Shakespeare Sonnets

Amy Winehouse: Back to Black

In Memoriam Amy Winehouse

Southgate, 14 september 1983 – Camden, 23 juli 2011

 

Back To Black

Song Text

He left no time to regret

Kept his dick wet

With his same old safe bet

Me and my head high

And my tears dry

Get on without my guy

You went back to what you knew

So far removed from all that we went through

And I tread a troubled track

My odds are stacked

I’ll go back to black

 

We only said good-bye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to…..

 

I go back to us

 

I love you much

It’s not enough

You love blow and I love puff

And life is like a pipe

And I’m a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside

 

We only said goodbye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to

 

(…)

 

 

We only said good-bye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to black

 

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Amy Winehouse, Amy Winehouse, Exhibition Archive

Amy Winehouse (1983-2011): Back to Black

BacktoBlack_cover

In memory of

Amy Winehouse

(1983-2011)

 

Back to Black

We only said good-bye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to black

 

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Amy Winehouse, Amy Winehouse, Exhibition Archive, In Memoriam

Paul Boldt: Freundin Hörerin

Paul Boldt
(1885-1921)

 

FREUNDIN HÖRERIN

Die Gegenwart der Nacht macht alles schlimmer.

Die Phantasien der Lust entlaufen schnöde,

Die Uhr schreit häßlich in der Herzeinöde,

Ins Zimmer fliegen die früheren Zimmer.

Unter die Stirne flieht die Gliederherde.

Im Mund weißkleinen Zähnelichtes schreit es,

Und Schrecken wächst im Antlitz wie ein zweites:

Ach, ach, es friert über mich hin aus Erde.

Und das Bewußtsein glaubt noch nicht einmal

Der chemischen Erlösung von dem Leide.

Das Antlitz abgestreift an eine Weide,

Mit Felderarmen liegen wir im Tal.

Ich mußte haltlos altern aus der Jugend

In dieser weißen, häuserigen Stadt.

Auf krummem Himmel frei zu stehen matt,

Den Schädel in die Martermauern fugend.

Im Himmelsgrund voll Schatten, Wind und Straße

Erscheinen wir, die sich bewegend tun.

Aus Augen fliegt über den dunklen Schuhn

Der Regenbogen durch die Antlitzmasse.

Antlitze kommen auf in dem Tierhaar,

Die Einzelaugen an die meinen spülend.

Und ein Gesicht, Auswuchs der Seele, fühlend

Einschwebte Stirn zur Stirne, scheues Paar.

Wir arbeiten. Mich freut es, dich zu sehn

Freundinnenlippenrot, anthropomorph.

Wir bauen in die Stadt uns kleines Dorf

Schädelblut-Häuser und Arme-Alleen.

Das Herz geht in den Händen hin und her.

Die Augen füllen sich an einem Strahl,

Mit Bäumebildern, Städten an dem Meer.

Der Strahl ist aus der Sonne, Tag geheißen.

 

Paul Boldt poetry
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive A-B, Boldt, Paul, Expressionism

Emily Dickinson: The Great Storm Is Over

Emily Dickinson

(1830-1886)

The Great Storm Is Over

 

Glee! The great storm is over!

Four have recovered the land;

Forty gone down together

Into the boiling sand.

 

Ring, for the scant salvation!

Toll, for the bonnie souls, —

Neighbor and friend and bridegroom,

Spinning upon the shoals!

 

How they will tell the shipwreck

When winter shakes the door,

Till the children ask, “But the forty?

Did they come back no more?”

 

Then a silence suffuses the story,

And a softness the teller’s eye;

And the children no further question,

And only the waves reply.

 

Emily Dickinson poetry

kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: Dickinson, Emily

Tired of Being ‘Skinny’?

Tired of Being ‘Skinny’?

ready mades – kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: - Objets Trouvés (Ready-Mades)

Freda Kamphuis: Zalig is het kinderlot, jong gestorven vroeg bij God

Freda Kamphuis:

Zalig is het kinderlot, jong gestorven vroeg bij God

Foto’s Hervormde begraafplaats Nieuwe Pekela

kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: Freda Kamphuis, Galerie des Morts, Kamphuis, Freda

P.C. Boutens gedicht: Na den overval

P.C. Boutens
(1870-1943)


Na den overval

Ontwaakt van zoo nabij den dood,

Vind ik in kring en wacht gewend

U aller oogen kleur- en glansbekend,

En in uw handen blank en rood

Van wijn en brood?

Breekt niet, maar schaduwt en ontdicht

Een korte poos den klaren ring,

Legt op mijn oogen uwer handen zegening -:

Ik schroom te zien mijn eigen bleek gezicht

In zooveel licht.

Tusschen uw jonge hoofden schijnt de blanke dag,

Weldadig-kleurelooze droom…

Vreemd, door zoo roode droomen als ik zag,

Redd’en mijn oogen nog hun teêren schroom

En reeden lach…

Zij namen al den leeftocht dien ik had,

Maar, meer dan ‘k hopen dorst,

‘k Voel in den buidel van mijn borst

Kloppen veel rijker voller schat

Dan ik omvat.

Zoo laat, zoolang wij zijn op ‘t pad,

Me uw stillen gast in de’ armen schijn,

En ik zal eens uw gastheer zijn

Bij ander brood en andren wijn,

Wanneer wij komen in de groote stad.

 

P.C. Boutens poetry
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive A-B, Boutens, P.C.

Lola Ridge: Emma Goldman

Lola Ridge

(1871-1941)

 

Emma Goldman

How should they appraise you,

who walk up close to you

as to a mountain,

each proclaiming his own eyeful

against the other’s eyeful.

 

Only time

standing well off

shall measure your circumference and height.

 

Lola Ridge poetry

kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: Archive Q-R, Ridge, Lola

William Shakespeare: Sonnet 89

William Shakespeare

(1564-1616)

THE SONNETS

 

89

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,

And I will comment upon that offence,

Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt:

Against thy reasons making no defence.

Thou canst not (love) disgrace me half so ill,

To set a form upon desired change,

As I’ll my self disgrace, knowing thy will,

I will acquaintance strangle and look strange:

Be absent from thy walks and in my tongue,

Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,

Lest I (too much profane) should do it wrong:

And haply of our old acquaintance tell.

For thee, against my self I’ll vow debate,

For I must ne’er love him whom thou dost hate.

 

kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: -Shakespeare Sonnets

To dress in war time

To dress extravagantly in war time is

worse than bad form it is unpatriotic

Objets trouvés – kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: - Objets Trouvés (Ready-Mades)

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