Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Nagoon... Nagoon!

 don't believe me, you know that right? I lie. this little whorl of pink is only half the size.
i searched the woods today for orchids. do you still buy them in the store? orchids, it was the rage right? i know how they grow them, it's called money. i've seen it, i do not understand it. i don't know why. a man goes to the bank and gets a loan, big,  he builds big, he hires cheap workers and they call it progress,.i have heard it is collapsing  such an economy. the orchids were beautiful i have to say, they are big and i search the woods for something smaller then the nail of my pinky,  i polished his pinky nails pink too. that's a lie too, how men are real men. i found two orchids today,  searching endless swamp land through the dark spruce forest. i know i think them beautiful because they are what i call a perfect flower. like the perfect man is very feminine. and i a nymph. i wish. nagoon! there suddenly in all that endless swampy forest, only three. can you imagine each grows one berry, a raspberry, so actually many droplets. and the man says i should not cry. and i don't, when i am in the forest i am the goddess and i don't even know sadness does exist. have you ever sat on top of someone lovingly, and try to remember why you were sad. well it doesn't work. when you are happy, you can't be sad. olli just skyped, he's  such a playing hard to get, such a gorgeous specimen of manliness , he says hi and gone, nagoon, three berries in that whole forest, who gets to eat them, which little mouse is so lucky? i like to write like this. i forgot to pay attention to dialogue. olli didn't know i could hear him, but i did, and i can still here his voice, i love his voice, everything about him, he is one person in this big big world, he lives in a big big city, one person and he granted me three words, i forgot which ones, it started with, oh! and then mumble. mumble jumble i wrestle me on top of you, laughing and the tiny orchids, we can't crush them because there's only two. don't we realize how fragile is this world, that we really have to try connect. that no matter how small, it matters big time. still it is a miracle that in this land where forest are so endless, tiny flowers grow, one day i will paint your toenails love, when i sit on top of you.

it was me and now i am a so sad, it was me who cut him off and i didn't even know. one orchid less , but i know , the roots still there and next year it will be back.


Anonymous said...

Love this but please google "never seconds" and support Mary's meals in malawi a truely inspirational girl, Martha is amazing!!

take care jo

much love

christopher said...

me too...much love to you.

this is beautiful poetry, Jozien.

Angela Wheelock said...

Hi Jozien,
A beautiful stream of consciousness post. Yes, when we're somewhere beautiful we are the goddess and unhappiness can't exist. I usually feel that way at the beach or beside water.

I'll visit again soon.


hdt said...

I find your post so confusing but think I know what you are saying.

It makes my head feel so heavy, like it does when the window is open and its raining so hard outside. I just want to put my head down on the pillow and sleep.

Oh well, the wind that blows is all that anyone knows.