In bubbles of glass, amber irises turn grey, and I find you, waiting for me, in the heart of violet flowers, where shades of purple, disguise every shadow, of the deepest colors, until the light, is inadvertently, out of sight, and all I have left, are the imaginary sparkles, of my own loneliness.
All the poems, and writings, on this page belong to Gineke van Keulen! Ask before using! Thank you!
Her heart is like an ocean without life, a deep black pool of nothing, who hungers for a coral reef, for turtles and fish in her sea. She hungers for surfers and swimmers, for boats sailing on her surface. She hungers for birds in the sky, that hunt for flying fish, jumping out of her water. She hungers for someone, to touch her skin until he sinks in, deep into the her essence. She longs for understanding, the problems that she brings, because so many ruined her waters, that she, herself, does not know, how she really has to swim, inside her own water reflection. She longs for someone, who will take the time, to dive deep inside of her, exploring ever corner of, her deep sea levels and coral reefs, researching the way to take care of her, when she can no longer do it herself. She longs for children, playing at the shore, dipping their little feet, in her shallow waters, until they learn how to swim, and they embrace her, with joy and laughter. Her heart longs for life, in that deep black pool of nothing, that never seems to end. And until then she dreams, of a life she has never seen, that is waiting for her, beyond the horizon.
Sometimes it is a miracle, that the cracked house still stands. Exfoliated paint has dimmed, the always lively outer walls. Crumbled wall joints have given, the luxury estate a poor appearance. The door hangs in the frame, showing the many break ins, this house has had to endure, and when entering, the emptiness proves the robberies, of this dilapidated mansion. Antique pink walls hint the past, of parties with women in fancy dresses, drinking champagne and cocktails, whose spirits now haunt, this desolated, empty place. Where have they gone, I wonder?
A painting falls down the wall, one from the baroque period, that surprisingly still shows, every detail of the painters work. I am lost in this castle, with its empty spaces and walls, and the many cobwebs, covering the ceiling – even the spiders have left. There is nothing left for me, and a little bird on the window sill, tells me it is time to leave.
Against all the voice, telling me to say goodbye, there is one asking me to stay, for even a house in this broken state, has a chance of coming back to life.
Love is a force, with unbreakable strength, that can make a flower bloom, in the middle of the winter. When you collect this force, that is deep within your heart, miracles will begin to happen, and even an old dilapidated house, can arise from its ashes!
The wonder of birth, will never cease to amaze me. With one gasp of air, we become one with life – the first of many choices, we will ever make on earth.
We breathe, because we love, and because we love, we breathe.
Love and life are connected, more than we ever realize. Without life we cannot love, and without love, we cannot live our life.
If love is so important, so vital in our circle of life, why then do we love so little?
We put ourselves first, without considering, that an empty world, leaves us desolate.
When we are born, we love our mother. Without that love, we die. Why then do we believe, we can live alone, for the rest of our life?
A life without people, is an empty life, for only through people, we can learn, the most selfless love, that has ever existed.
To learn the depths of love, we must be willing, to look beyond ourselves. For in the beginning of life, we did not love ourselves first, NO, our first love, belonged to our mother.
For most of my life, I was bullied, emotionally abused, rejected, and I had/have so little friends that I believed that I was better off alone. This year nearly took my life, not by COVID-19 but by loneliness. When one is rejected and alone for so long, one can get the idea that life alone is the only option. That is why I always said to myself, “It is me and God against the world”, believing there was nobody out there for me. But during the pandemic, I have learned that this is a lie. Humans are created to live together in whatever shape or size that is. The walls are slowly coming down around me and even though I am still finding my place in this life, the growth I have experienced was necessary and so important. That was the sole reason for this poem. Nobody is supposed to live a life alone! No one! And yet, there are so many, like me, who face this struggle every day. I am so blessed with my immediate family but there are those who have no one! Let us take the coming holiday season to look out for those who are alone! Give them something to look forward to. Give them love, a place at your table, a place in your life. You have no idea what it will mean to them! xox Gineke.
An empty birdcage made of gold, fills an empty space in a luxurious house. Velvet sofas of red and green, create an old fashioned yet classic décor, where pearls would roll across the floor, in an overflow of wealth. The silent emptiness is overwhelming, and a sadness roams the halls, in a search for that one missing thing. Echoes cry in the darkness, on the ever-present cry of the wind. Love cannot be bought, or found in the materialistic items we own. Only when a house is filled with people, can we truly life our wildest dreams. Life was not meant to live alone, why then do we focus on those things, that can never bring us joy? A heart needs a heart to live in, otherwise it withers away and dies. An empty birdcage made of gold, is forcing me to open a window, where nature is calling the heart, to spread her wings and fly away, to that one heart she needs, to feel alive once again.
Every step I take,
my empty heart burns,
like a forest on fire.
Trying to rescue life,
in all its forms,
I make a decision,
to fight.
The sun on the horizon,
promises me hope,
but how can I believe,
in a new land,
when the old one,
is still burning?
Letting go of sorrow,
feels like the end,
of my very last breath,
overwhelming me with fear,
until I decide,
to breathe again.
Every step I take,
my empty heart burns,
so lay it on the ground,
to find life without it,
but how can I live,
without my heart?
Every season,
teaches us lessons,
but this season appears,
the hardest of them all,
so I have to believe,
that the lesson of this season,
will be the biggest one,
I have ever learned.
Walking through the old chapel, my rustling dress is the only sound I perceive. The silence encloses my heart, until an emotional gasp escapes my lungs.
An empty altar stares back at me, and the desolated pews seem to mock me. I can’t separate the truth from the lies anymore, I can’t find out where it all went wrong.
A glimmer of hope had sparkled at the horizon, a rainbow of love had suddenly welcomed me in. For only one moment my heart was alive, for only a season I was allowed to sing.
The only present tears are in my hands, where my buckling knees give weight, and the floor feel like a bed of nails, where I am beaten into.
I scream until my silence becomes audible, I cry until the grey regains its colors. But the emptiness is not driven away in this moment, the hurt is not separated from me today.
While memories play like a film in front of my eyes, the reality finally finds its way into my mind, and my heart breaks with the thought, yesterday was the last time I saw you walk away.