Poetry Blog by Rudyard Kooistra

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari on Trains to die for. (Mon, 8 Mar 2021 09:18 pm)

Nicola Beckett on The human race. (Fri, 5 Mar 2021 08:38 pm)

Aviva Rifka Bhandari on No title. (Thu, 18 Feb 2021 10:04 pm)

Rudyard Kooistra on No more deaths please. (Tue, 29 Dec 2020 09:12 pm)

Philipos on No more deaths please. (Tue, 29 Dec 2020 11:16 am)

Aviva Rifka Bhandari on Gigantic (Tue, 22 Dec 2020 10:28 pm)

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Candice Reineke on Bazille's studio (Sat, 28 Nov 2020 02:39 am)

Greg Freeman on The writing shed, Dylan Thomas. (Fri, 9 Oct 2020 07:24 pm)

Rudyard Kooistra on The writing shed, Dylan Thomas. (Fri, 9 Oct 2020 06:25 pm)

TAPP.

I wouldnt be like you

came through

somewhere from the back

i recall

hearing this little thin voice

fading away.

 

 

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No title needed.

Can you read between the lines

emotions on one's fingertips

does red interact with my mind

like most of the time

Fill the gaps with warmth of human skin

How deep does it cut

Space and time bend over the lines

all across but it never felt to kind.

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Proza and grenades.

Dont forget your mask

it hides the scars

contours of a face

Mechanical balanced

its yours, you found it

while trying to keep

it all together

Defend whats wrong

just to look strong

Saving people might

be wasting precious space.

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Such a nice piece of proza.

The curtains closed so silently

a life on the catwalk

empty balcony's

under a bloodred sky

no one will ever hear your songs again

playing your part of your soul away

such a voice will wait patiently

to show us the ropes by which

we will hang ourselves.

 

 

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How to end.

mist mirrored

infected scene

never dull

deceiving looks

general rules

it doesnt mean anything

apply for a dream.

 

 

 

 

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Mondrian, composite 1922.

How do i describe the art straight from the heart

Not to show of your glimpse of a rising star

Abstract in a pure way and form

Like the red thread through our lives

Black are the lines that devide colours

making them more static

Nothing will move at our command

White empty spaces taste so sublime

Time tells classics future has come.

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Piet Mondrian one.

Did you know about Mondrian's tree?

It is a tale about being firmly embedded

Through centuries it endured the rise and fall

nothing stood tall against its red and brown

Infinity stood by your side right from the day

humanity turned its face away

embracing its endless praying

to a book of unfortunate fairytales.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Constable rewritten.

Behind this rotten gate awaits

a familiar feeling from the depths

of losing one's youth

It is like a sort of repeating spiritual healing

Lifts you up and smacks you down hard to the filth of the ground

Walking on your toes towards a closed front door

Three knocks that would wake the dead inside one's mind

No black smoke escaping from the chimney high above your confused head

...

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No title.

your lines are here to stay

give me another day

sing me a lovers fairytale

you beauty you

my constant fight

didn't change my mind

i felt the decay surrounding you

you look so playfull today

let it soak for a while

feelings grew colder

words getting bolder

don't stop the time

eyes that melt my soul

cover those shoulders

Kill love, it's not a crime

beat b...

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Just a sentence from the great book of Black.

Every page has it dog-ears in many shapes and forms.

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A farm beyond a field.

Stormy winds and dark brooding clouds

follow us around this path to adventure

at unknown places

Sharing our fantastic stories with the farmers

while sitting close to the heat of an open fire

Rustling trees telling us to hurry up, just one more mountain

then we can and will hear that familiar singing.

 

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Nightmare

Your eyes look like a butterfly

how they dance across your face

capturing the last of your sight

it makes it difficult to focus on

which style of music it follows so strict

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Love, Vincent.

My thoughts towards Vincent

it kept me busy while my back touched the brittle yellow wall

my thinking hat kept its roaring silence, it fellt sublime to be king

at the deepest point of my own dream

To oppress those god awful feelings

of being lost at sea for days on end

I couldnt put it so simply on to the canvas

Touring those endless fields of bold colours

Will it ever comb...

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Rocks, pebbles and sand.

Those ocean sounds mix so well

with the call of the snowy white seagulls

They skillfully ride the wind in endless waves

a sailors personal date with a stonecold  grave

Climbing those worn out steps, i paused my backwards counting

Despair, an iron grip that takes its toll on a man's sanity

How much weight will these rocks take

to fade back to its former grand glory.

 

 

...

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Mud.

Bow down and hit the mud

this brown makes us identical

while we strive to find the meaning

known as soul searching

Freedom died last week from complications

due to prolonged lead poisoning

but it is the thought that kept him alive

times are really changing towards

the  beat down blessings you have

while your hands bleed from the rusty nails

that one time torn fragment...

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Pearl.

Why do you wear your vibrant heart

on your chest like a shiny new medal

It glows like a freshly erupted volcano

Your head hangs in the mist of a lush rainforest

One of your hands is searching for a gorgeous

white pearl that shines like the first summers morning

Your shoulders are wearing a heavy looking blood red dress

Its colour matches so nicely with the skull you so despera...

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Cloudy.

While we hide, trying to make us

so small

A winged cross above our heads

moving slow but steady

in our direction

Are we being judged

the past of our hearts

even may grant us a new

and improved lease on life.

 

Colours are blinding the sky

the sun just hides in its shadow

full of shame but who can you blame?

 

Would you please roll the dice

not once but ...

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Dreambook 13.

Only black shines through the window

two walls contain them, the faceless minds

they are not moving, like roots from an

old tree

They try their best to let me see

No mouth to envy

Communicating is going to be hard

if they put it that way

i have nothing to say

to these puppets on a short string

 

Blind letters are meaningless

The walls wont tell on them

Nobody...

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Trains to die for.

I llooked through the window and saw

a man moving his lips and hands in a wild way

it seemed strange to me

why would one be so vocal at this point

you are going somewhere

just wait on your turn like everybody else

Stations will pass, each on their own time

you all are on a fixed line

Heading the same way, everyday repeats it self

Like history in a sense

what if there ...

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Galaxy 3

Your face changed so rapidly

its like the seeds who were planted a long time ago

breaking through the strategy of being reincarnated

so many times before

Gone were the blinds that blocked the moment of truth

you once lived for

Ancient beings once roamed through our claimed spaces

Laughing at us for being so childish in our search

Kids who dont know what the hell it is all a...

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The human race.

The death machine shouts it filth

over the heads of all these biggots

Poison hangs heavy in the air

like a suffocating pillow

There is no escaping this everlasting madness

Vile are the smells that leads to total destruction

Your sacrifice will be highly recommended

People with long teeth blame everything on everybody

that sticks around for way to long

Never let them cont...

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Rage hard.

You look raw

do you see anything

or is the pain consuming you

I like the little cracks around

your beautifull scars

Your grin shows me

you are not happy

beneath the layers of bandages

to me it looks like you have lost memories to

about the arsenic that poisons one mind

Hate makes rage just a bit more fullfilling.

 

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Blind for a night.

Blindness does not mean

that taste left your senses

Smelling like hell

while you stroll through

unholy roads

A path from the past

lead by hounds as black as tar

guide you across fields

of utter despair and

lose all hope lanes.

 

Gone are the paved ways

Only a shade of a lost tower burns

at the back of your retina

maybe souls remain here as

a lost cause ...

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Book of the death/chapter ending.

Book of the dead

thats what have been said

Celebrating the beginning

or ending

Afterlife hasnt started yet

you tend to forget

the bitterness

eternal darkness

unforgiving loneliness

awaits him who

alienated from pure white grace

one placed a losing bet

its not about to end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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No title for a son.

Stars coincide

precious moments captured

my son, child of gone by times

Decades could not explain

the truth of pain

Obscure sickness, you undone my

prussian blue.

 

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No title is good enough.

Forwards moving

leaning against the wind

your clockwork is revealing

Thoughts are counter progressive

All that you will encounter at the end

sends tears towards a meaningless death

Roots will grow with each earthly breath taken.

 

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No title/never completed anyway.

Skin could be freed

removed by force

shred its existence

Bald is the new death

sentence

Skeleton remains more

than just skindeep

Beautifull bleached bones

tells a short story

former horror glory

you looked good around the eyes.

 

 

 

 

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No title.

Those trees stand firm

keeping their ground at any cost

Twigs in a maze

what remains are the good thoughts

They will have the last say

Collective mind over useless matter

Wasteland as far as humans could destroy

Dominating the landscape

This is the path

through pain and disaster.

 

 

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Widewall

How bad do you feel while crawling

through the dirt and howling at the

darkness of the moon

Seeing your surroundings with

the lightness through the gaps

of your red bandages

Empty is the space between animals and beasts

Human skin just fades away

The signs were there for all to see

or feel

Ignoring the facts for the longest time

about the survival of the species

...

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The boy with the gun

Even angels lose some feathers

they get stuck in sand

with a breeze of water

Everything seems to matter

To which side the scale turns

good or even worse

It runs one thought constantly

where did i go wrong?

 

 

Sickness in this form

can never be undone.

 

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Catastrophic

Have you heard the truth

behind the lies of earth

True intensions will always

surface

Be afraid

Humans will be mortal

paying through blood

The ultimate sacrifice.

 

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Little dreamer

The light from the fireplace

together with the candles

dances across the walls

a barriere against the dark

your rolled up sleeves reveal finely formed veins

motoric correct

almost pure of colour

the book of eternal youth

withstands the sleepers

waiting on the smallest chance

everlasting stimulation and development

researching facts about love

Beginning and lifes...

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Steady as she goes

Metal strikes wood

sings its muffled sounds

from countless gaping wounds

The insane looking dog

almost dead in its tracks

cries loudly

Pain, pain

pure suffering

release your beast

honour the ground

sacrifice time

stutter words.

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We are heading towards the end

of our own existence

caught up by the past

your soul will be dissected

stripped

violated

Skullcap has been lifted

poison shall always be there

scythe tightened

the cross tossed aside

Death comes and goes through

the little holes of our lifes

if this is

who would envy me?

 

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Empty rooms.

Suspicious soft is the loving touch

crib death is what it was

Isolated human emotions

Walls relieved from their failed functions

Builds layers of stories

a repeating attempt

to chain the demons

from within

Silenced and twisted

aside

a sweep of the tabletop

is what will remain

Apparition sways

its dead gently back

to its sleeping stage.

 

 

 

 

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John Martin 1851/3

We have reached our top

the lake looks so tiny

and fragile

Waterfall just goes on

mixes blue and white

do you feel allright?

Words softly spoken

whispering dead mans

crutches

Guard the plains and

forgotten mountains

As if we were the last

off gods sons and daughters.

 

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Black as death.

Spaces, how black brought us death

Lies

Cut your own flesh

Everything exept

the medicine

Behaviour problems

Your background doesnt mean anything to me

you see

heaven or hell

will it be fifty percent

to me

Nightmares always or never

Two times fifty percent

makes screaming one hunderd percent

Is there a lifeforce to ask

a speedy solution

what a bloody ...

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No human.

Enjoy, dont be scared

the world as we know it

will still be turning

Horrors can suffocate

and blow smoke around your soul

Blurry are the stories that keep

clinging to your lips

Your skin itches under

the sheets

Summers drought created

static electricity

at any given time

Chemistry between humans

oozes complexity

Look

Sigh

Cue

Each piece of being

...

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Dartmoor

The ghost fears its thinking

about walking

faster and faster

approaching mountains

seconds turn to two curses

Pushed up blood

murmurs trough my eyes

by a gnawing evil force

a slightly suppressed feeling

still i must be going

Haste drives me over these plains

dried up riverbeds

and breaking branches

the first hedge drops

splashing on starving flowers

it ...

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