Poem
Erik Menkveld
HEART-DEPTHS
See us standing successfully here: a seasonedwearer of a petrol-blue skirt,
a lilac bodice that cups her breasts like
an open calix, with studied childlike mouth
in conversation with a sparkling sharp piece
in deux-pièce, small cape of shot-silk rose-orange organza,
primly salacious side-slit, with strutting tongue –
two yakkety-yakkers, these old show-off chassis, well spotlit
on the softish underbelly, unself-insightfully ready
to taxi beetle-like or formerly
jumbo-lumbering to the good-natured cracking
of oyster shells or other chit-chat.
Oh, seldom harboured heart-depths! Oh, long-flown
career-start with self-selected lady’s jacket
over office chair and view of inner courtyard
surrounded by glass, Japanese
conifers, white cobbles, small fountain . . .
© Translation: 2005, John Irons
HARTEGROND
HARTEGROND
Zie ons hier succesvol staan: door alle nettengevlogen draagster van petrolblauwe rok
en lila lijfje dat haar borsten als een openstaande
bloemkelk omhult, schijnkindermondig
in gesprek met sprankelend scherp stuk
in deux-pièce, cape’je van changeant roze-oranje organza,
verantwoord geile zijsplit, trots op haar tong –
twee kakelgrage, fraai op de kwetsbare buikzijde
uitgelichte braniekarkassen, onzelfinzichtig klaar
om tor-achtig danwel voormalig jumbolog
door te taxiën naar het gemoedelijk gekraak
van openbrekende oesterschelpen of ander gepraat.
O zelden geherbergde hartegrond! O langvervlogen
carrièrrebegin met zelfverkozen damescolbert
over bureaustoel en uitzicht op kleine
door glas omgeven binnenplaats, Japanse
naaldbomen, witte keien, fonteintje . . .
© 2005, Erik Menkveld
From: Prime time
Publisher: G.A. van Oorschot, Amsterdam
From: Prime time
Publisher: G.A. van Oorschot, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Erik Menkveld
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HEART-DEPTHS
See us standing successfully here: a seasonedwearer of a petrol-blue skirt,
a lilac bodice that cups her breasts like
an open calix, with studied childlike mouth
in conversation with a sparkling sharp piece
in deux-pièce, small cape of shot-silk rose-orange organza,
primly salacious side-slit, with strutting tongue –
two yakkety-yakkers, these old show-off chassis, well spotlit
on the softish underbelly, unself-insightfully ready
to taxi beetle-like or formerly
jumbo-lumbering to the good-natured cracking
of oyster shells or other chit-chat.
Oh, seldom harboured heart-depths! Oh, long-flown
career-start with self-selected lady’s jacket
over office chair and view of inner courtyard
surrounded by glass, Japanese
conifers, white cobbles, small fountain . . .
© 2005, John Irons
From: Prime time
From: Prime time
HEART-DEPTHS
See us standing successfully here: a seasonedwearer of a petrol-blue skirt,
a lilac bodice that cups her breasts like
an open calix, with studied childlike mouth
in conversation with a sparkling sharp piece
in deux-pièce, small cape of shot-silk rose-orange organza,
primly salacious side-slit, with strutting tongue –
two yakkety-yakkers, these old show-off chassis, well spotlit
on the softish underbelly, unself-insightfully ready
to taxi beetle-like or formerly
jumbo-lumbering to the good-natured cracking
of oyster shells or other chit-chat.
Oh, seldom harboured heart-depths! Oh, long-flown
career-start with self-selected lady’s jacket
over office chair and view of inner courtyard
surrounded by glass, Japanese
conifers, white cobbles, small fountain . . .
© 2005, John Irons
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