vrijdag 29 juli 2011

WHEN THE FALLOUT COMES


Host abused
You linger along
Triumphant
Without a crown

Burning Ayatollahs and the Gatling gun
Where is the sense in sensibility?
Just open your hand
Open your mind my friend

Round tables and discontent
Minds speak and talk
Talk and speak
This reeks
Of the despicable

Demons to all
Angels to none
Enter the code
Pull the lever
Then the fallout comes

Eyes pop out
Drainage and contempt
Distraught harvest
Heaven’s put up for rent
Heaven cries like a widow
All I feel is contempt

Lady Godiva trampled by her own horse
It’ll take eons before something will emerge again
from the waters onto the shores

donderdag 28 juli 2011

New work

Neuropa 2011
Mixed media
size 75x90cm

woensdag 27 juli 2011

BURNING AYATOLLAHS AND THE GATLING GUN


The radiance hurts my eyes
The radiance hurts my eyes
The radiance hurts my eyes
The radiance hurts my eyes

Fury means passion in this land
Laughter means you’re a suspect
Don’t frown
or you’ll be the one giving in

Drill a hole and fill it up
Drill a hole and fill it up
Drill a hole and fill it up
Drill a hole and fill it up

dinsdag 26 juli 2011

maandag 25 juli 2011

THE REAPER IS WILD AND SMILES


We’re climbing up
till the bitter end
We will speak out
Till you’re translucent

We will preach peace
Until we’re heaven sent
We will beat it hard
Till reality becomes unbend

I hold on the brass hinges
And smile
My skin is so sore
I have to prove I’m am human
Is here’s nothing we can do
to make the dry tongue moist again?
Shrugged shoulders 
and a dreary refrain

Does it take just one kiss
to undo us from torture?
Just one hug
leads to rapture

Tattered thoughts
on television
Dead eyes
And interdiction

Bitter fruits
And apathy
A lost part
of the rusted machinery
The swindled ant
Of the colony

I sit here
looking at the wounded sky
There’s enough space on either side
I sit alone
drinking my swipe

zaterdag 23 juli 2011

REPRESSION


A repressed woman
Makes it through the day
She makes it through the day
Cause she stores it all away
Stores it all away

Bleak oil runs the angst machine
Spewing out
The most suffocating humdrum
I’ve ever seen
The most suffocating humdrum
I’ve ever seen


A repressed man
Makes it through the day
He makes it through the day
Cause he stores it all away
Stores it all away

Bleak oil runs the angst machine
Evoking the barest tantrum
I’ve ever seen
The barest tantrum
I’ve ever seen

maandag 18 juli 2011

vrijdag 15 juli 2011

donderdag 14 juli 2011

A SONG FOR CHARLIE CHRIST


The morter cracks
All that we’ve built
Was never built to last

Murmur
an open window
The courtyard
a silent witness

I have to flee this tomb
This concrete womb
Which bears seclusion
discontent
I’ll just head
To where
the former occupants went

“The tripe tripled this year”
The newspaper heading says
Morality
ripped to tatters
All these open wounds do
Is sending more tripe into the world

Who will be giving pauper Leon
The light of day
The streets have so much to say

A capitalistic fury
colours the skyline
I had a clear bearing
I adjust
The suit I’m wearing

Short by Philo van Kemenade on VPRO Dorst

Check it here
weblogs.vpro.nl/dorst

and a new blogpost
 www.breaksof10.com

woensdag 13 juli 2011

MY JOURNEY LEADS TO YOU


Everyone should remember
The days called warm and tender
Watching the clouds hovering in the sky
And the distant sounds die

Everyone should remember
The days called warm and tender
The iconoclast sings a song
Till all statues are gone

Are you so afraid that when you open up
it will swallow you whole?
Are you afraid that you’re an angel
without a goal?

Dreams crash
Till there’s nothing’s left
The Reaper arrives
The soul theft

Traubert dreams of a sky that’s blue
Open up
Tear it off
Peel it off
Till there’s only you

HEAR THE BELLS TOLL


So I return home from a journey not taken
The TV shows morons making a fool of themselves
All the kids now want is the glitter not the gloom
“So what’s so important about those books on the shelves”
Love is now packaged in doom

We should try to share the intensity
Of the ray that beams out of the purest heart
No one should surrender
To the everyday ludicrous travesties
Or the ray will ricochet
Off into the infinite nowhere

I tried to believe
I really tried
but it didn’t stick
Like a transplanted kidney
My logic rejected
And rejected it

I tried to walk proud
So now I walk proud
My head sticks up
My spine un-hunched
Like I’m the proudest one
of the bunch

Still I’m so tired of hitting empty space
So I embark again
on an endless journey not taken
Time is upon us
and really cannot be forsaken

dinsdag 5 juli 2011

Laser 3.14 winnaar van de Grand Prix de Graffiti 2011!


Woensdag 29 juni blies uitgeverij Lebowski ter gelegenheid van de dertigste sterfdag van Dr. Rat de Grand Prix de Graffiti nieuw leven in. Dr. Rat won deze prijs ooit in 1978. Daarna werd hij nog één keer gehouden (winnaar N-Power) om daarop een winterslaap van meer dan drie decennia te houden.

In Talentfactory De Valk gingen meerdere graffiteurs met elkaar de strijd aan. Uiteindelijk moest een publieke beslissing de doorslag geven. En die viel uit in het voordeel van de vooraf als gedoodverfde winnaar getipte Laser 3.14 (die overigens de kunst bestond om zich de hele wedstrijd anoniem te houden).

Check de foto’s van de Dr. Rat Memorial Day, van Mathilde MuPe

maandag 4 juli 2011

BEYOND THE SAFETY OF TWILIGHT


Hope should not fade with every breath
We all occupy one Earth
And nothing less

There’s more than one tainted sky
There’s more than one high
There are so many fires to tame
There are so many pictures to frame

Let us summon rationally
And have the purest beauty
Bestowed upon us

Let’s fuse together with the one
Closest to us

Let’s form a single row and chant
Cause elevation
Is at hand

Give me a gauntlet to walk
And let me prove
that I can be valiant 

Give me a bow and arrow
to kill the demon’s radiance

Let me be Nimrod
And make me build a tower

Let me obliterate a star
And create
a stardust shower

MY DEAR MAGDALENA


I’m sorry I never said I loved you
I’m sorry I never laid my lips on you
I’m sorry that I kept you at bay
I’m sorry I pretended not
Not to see
The glowing behind your eyes
I really wanted to harvest
and nurture your glee

I was cuffed
A distortion in synergy
I always wanted to utter the naked truth
My dear Magdalena
I belong to you

Interview in the Dr Rat Book




Order it here: www.bol.com