julius dreyfsandt zu schlamm - Prosatexts in different languages
22-06-2024
icy thoughts often eat away at the past in the conscience.
It atrophies the, gentle desire. It turns the skin into a shield and sees desire through an unsharpened lens.
and yet, sometimes very briefly, shines through supposed walls like a gilded lance, shining with pure brilliance.
For Only to die, as it were. Cast aside like a missed opportunity.
22-06-2024 om 10:47
geschreven door juliusdzs
His chair was empty. It was so nude he sank into it.
into his world with the silk pillow; down to the wire worn and dilapidated, its seat still held together by two straps, soft with lost lustre
I
I can still see his smile on his face. His lips curled mischievously and words formed, sometimes spoken in silence.
He's still here. Isn't he?
22-06-2024 om 10:45
geschreven door juliusdzs
My celebration of the joy of grapes, the sweet feast along your tendrils
caressing the leaves with the tips of my fingers, while a summer wind witnesses the sound of sighs
my with delicate elegance she touches my mouth
22-06-2024 om 10:44
geschreven door juliusdzs
.
I lost the future in finding
sought to fill the past to re-bind me my old soul bound
and
I carry the emptiness under my arms like an invisible encumbered weight, but still take my breath consciously constantly focused on blinding light
22-06-2024 om 10:42
geschreven door juliusdzs
.
With budding vigour she plays the old Stradivarius
When she plays, her strings sound like words with sparkling letters scattered into an aging man's heart.
The violin, carved from gilded wood, trembles with joy under the fingers of this white lily. She is a girl with a still earthly past.
The
22-06-2024 om 10:39
geschreven door juliusdzs
how lovely and light my blue butterfly goes.
she floats fluttering around in my mind, flapping her delicate wings along leaf and flower.
who will not silently yearn for that.
when with her sparkling waving gestures she lights up hearts, makes me feel what no one can really explain but lovingly attaches tenderness to the other.
22-06-2024 om 10:35
geschreven door juliusdzs
be my bride when the night comes and the sun of my eyes descends into my heart
As I descend into the transience of created sorrow, be my companion.
into the passing cold.
Be my bride, if only for a moment, a beat of eternity,
Go beyond what was. Carry me to weave.
Through the eyes of the angels the beauty will smile upon me.
Only then do I feel the greatness. Only then do I know what I am losing.
Be still for a moment, my bride. Such is life when I ring the bells irrevocably.
22-06-2024 om 10:33
geschreven door juliusdzs
my window is behind soft green tones of woods and trees. i already have a sense of what is to come.
I dream of autumn colours, of misty scents that will gradually herald the end of summer.
I am picking the last fruits. Before nature stops growing.
So
22-06-2024 om 10:31
geschreven door juliusdzs
21-06-2024
I sometimes pile barren flowers on my field of feeling.
there was first blind hope to radiant expectation
like bees rashly sniffing a honeyed bush node.
in words have long since ceased to count as they pile up on shards of broken glass, cutting me into carnal parts, not once, but again and again, again and again and so on of incessant convulsive resistance.
here I stand aging and see around me the missed opulence, drifting far away in dying fatigue.
i look back, i can't, it was life that robbed me.
Even the only reaching hand waved away my longing.
the indispensable has been crucified. i no longer call. I walk away into nothingness
21-06-2024 om 19:51
geschreven door juliusdzs
I feel in the peace of your womb
and dream of timeless pleasure
spreading like circles in the ditch.
What and the caressing fingers that run over my questioning body.
I spread my letters over silent thoughts
and imagine myself for a moment in your paradise
What more can I expect on this restful journey.
21-06-2024 om 19:48
geschreven door juliusdzs
almost I go
Or am I already gone
No, as I say
Longer than the long linden avenue
It is more like flying over trees
no oceans but wide streams
that is
on the way to the other language
the most beautiful but unintelligible
that is a double story
I notice while doing
I write myself away
into the future, which
also lies behind me.
I won't interpret it any further
That's already let that bell ring
though a heavyweight
that sounds in the sky
Yes, only conceivable in thought
Or tangible in feeling
It is also like waiting for a past
that beckons permanently
a single soul knows what I mean
but I won't go there
under the blue roof, perhaps grey
I carry a symbolism in stone,
metaphorically speaking
I seek a bridge in the sky
with an illuminating sigh
blowing or in a rumour
it's about, I call it
the slow gait of
a shuffling toad
he knows no better
doesn't think either
is not a man after all, not even looking
for the know-it-all
his existence goes on
inch by inch
he goes as he should
his way is continuous
how lucky he is, he doesn't know any better
21-06-2024 om 19:47
geschreven door juliusdzs
condemned to insight is my time of present,
suddenly a boundary is marked to the past.
I still think of the roof terrace so close and near your dying.
we are you cold, you asked and gave an imaginary warmth.
it helped ward off the cold of the moment outside, and outside our ring.
we shared, clearly, a moment of opulence
21-06-2024 om 19:46
geschreven door juliusdzs
Come, look, you are so welcome in my eyes
Experience the gentle gaze that looks at you. Colouring you through fine sparkling crystal.
Come to me, give me your hand. My touch will be fleeting as my fingers play upon the skin of your body.
Listen to the sound of the voices that sing of the silence.
the two of us, enveloped by one another's breathing.
21-06-2024 om 19:44
geschreven door juliusdzs
With heavy words or playful chords, the poet lays a carpet for the the nearness of being.
He is of such weight that his ego is often shrouded in the fog known in London. He describes his hazy sins with great ease.
With dark vigour he often declares his own mirror.
in
21-06-2024 om 19:43
geschreven door juliusdzs
My Mokum is tuned into a grey existence by a drizzle of rain.
As I look over my lukewarm coffee, I can see the rippling water of the canal passing me by.
There is no bustle of colourful people today.
The Through me pass the wishes of the past and a hope that is heavier than lead.
21-06-2024 om 19:42
geschreven door juliusdzs
Walk with me on the way from here to there, and from there to where?
Let us seek and find. Let us discover and experience what may bind us.
We are silent aloud. We hear only ourselves.
From As if in a resounding vault where the unspeakable is echoed.
You through me, I through you, mirrored through both of us.
the spring is alive and the passion is our drive
21-06-2024 om 19:41
geschreven door juliusdzs
No one sleeps or consciously closes their eyes, the silence of this night can scream or wonder again.
It is not in my power to isolate the silenced feelings of this moment in a simple way.
Unconsciously, my heart is seized by past thoughts of Latin chants, but also by the dream of waiting again.
But
21-06-2024 om 19:40
geschreven door juliusdzs
Join me in playing the solo, an important part of the soul in a human score.
A quatre mains for an unattached couple playing at the same time and side by side.
They come together in the Andante, but find each other again in the rapid Presto. They do not allow themselves to be robbed of their freedom by the solo constant.
21-06-2024 om 19:39
geschreven door juliusdzs
Born from the paradise of warmth and abundance
with the loss of essential connection, I became dependent and burned, and my soul separated. I lost the sense of oneness.
This is where my loneliness was born. It is so human and fundamental. It awakens the inevitable feeling of desolation in death.
I My authenticity is close to my soul. It can blossom only if I am willing to grow towards the other and if I am willing to share myself in the garden of unconditional affection.
Only then, yes only then will I be led to a restorative, pure connection.
21-06-2024 om 19:38
geschreven door juliusdzs
It's not that the light goes out quickly when there is fog on the windows.
But you feel every sound that comes in differently. It is more stripped of the earthly.
It is usually a slower song from your own heart also is the noise from outside that closes the auricle.
The In silence, everything solidifies and changes colour. It mocks the impure, it lifts boundaries.
You become soft and invulnerable. In perfection there is only the scent of roses.
But then you already dwell in eternity, waiting for the liberation of the senses and the soul from gravity.
21-06-2024 om 19:37
geschreven door juliusdzs
Over mijzelf
Ik ben
, en gebruik soms ook wel de schuilnaam
Julius V.E. Dreyfsandt zu Schlamm .
Ik ben een man en woon in
Nijnsel (Nederland) en mijn beroep is
proza dichter/poet .
Ik ben geboren op 14/07/1948 en ben nu dus
76 jaar jong.
Mijn hobby's zijn: Mijn hobby's zijn: music improvisations organ and other instruments. julius.dreyfsandt.zu.schlamm@gmail.com.
J.Tourbière de Sable - poèmes en français (schuilnaam Franse teksten) Johannes Revisius (schuilnaam impr. componist)
UN LEGADO PROSAICO
Ik ben , en gebruik soms ook wel de schuilnaam Julius V.E. Dreyfsandt zu Schlamm.