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POETRY

Lying Around

Lie in the grass with me
and look up at the sky.
Let your hands feel the softness.
Stretch out and feel free.

See the cloud right above?
It is looking at you.
It is thinking, what a tiny person.
What a silly little thing.

Lying around in the grass.
The cloud will move on.
It will travel and then merge
with a big cloud.

On your right is a tiny daisy.
It looks big to you now
as it’s right next to your face.
It is beautiful.

Up close all things are
so different.
Full of colour and
vibrancy.

Feel the breeze
stroking your hair.
Feel loved and
comforted

by nature.

© Vroni Holzmann

Poetry

 

A little story

builds inside

your head.

 

Now you have to

get it down

quick.

 

Scramble for pen and paper.

Catch those fluttering  

thoughts

 

before they escape.

They don’t care

where you are.

 

You’ve just woken

in the dark?

You’re on a busy bus?

 

This epiphany

 

couldn’t care less.

It will only exist

for a few minutes.

 

If that.

A lovely new phrase

may only exist for seconds.

 

A new fleeting friend.

Take down the words now

or you’ll never see them again.

 

But If you manage to

put them to paper.

They’ll be there for you

 

forever.

© Vroni Holzmann

Little Wayside Flower

A gentle flower, frail and small
had thoughts on life itself and all.

It thought, oh just imagine if
I could just walk, what would I give.

It also thought, oh bloody hell
if I could swim, that would be swell.

And yes, the most amazing sight
would be if I had hands to write

so all the clever thoughts I made
would not just float away and fade.

This flower by the path was there
until a sheep that didn’t care

just ate it up, which sadly meant
its little soul away just went.

The world just never got to see
this little thing, it ceased to be.

But tiny as it was, and jaded
It knew it lived before it faded.

© Vroni Holzmann

Silent Sigh

 

This is how you can slow down

your breathing

and relax

body and mind.

 

I have been given this

wonderful advice

by Donna Farhi.

Thank you.

 

Make sure you sit

comfortably.

No, not just for this exercise.

Always.

 

Breathe in through your nose

as normally.

For breathing out

you purse your lips

 

and release the air

like a silent sigh.

You make no sound

but you can hear

 

the vibration in the air.

If a candle was in front of you

it would not go out

says Donna.

 

It would maybe flicker.

You can do this ten times

and you will realise

that you have calmed down.

 

Your nervous system

is so grateful for this break

and your lungs are

filling and releasing

 

slowly.

Silently.

Sighing

and releasing.

 

Enjoy this little exercise.

You deserve a calm moment

in your busy life.

A minute of peace.

© Vroni Holzmann

​​

Life

 

Life is a deadline

What haven’t you done yet?

Quick, do it now.

 

And then there sits a man

with all the time in the world.

He just sits there.

 

But you need to go and

shop and cook and clean

and work and go to work

 

and work from home.

And prepare for work

and then this job isn’t good enough.

 

Now you have a job interview

and then you are scared, did I get it?

Yes! You got the job.

 

Now you get more money.

And you have to work

and to clean and to shop.

 

You don’t cook anymore

you get a ready meal.

Yum!

 

And you rush past this man,

he just sits there.

Can he do that?

 

Just sit there?

It reminds you of a life

when rushing around

 

was not filling up

a hundred percent

of your time.

 

He sits there

and sometimes he looks grumpy

and other times he smiles.

 

Can you have good and bad days

when you just sit there?

Days you like and days you hate?

 

Shouldn’t that be about

what you have achieved

that day?

 

What does he achieve?

Is he a symbol?

A reminder for the rest of the world?

 

Why does he just sit there?

Does it mean that I could just sit there?

But what about my work?

 

I am so important! Yes, I am.

I lead a team.

I tell them what to do.

 

Without me, with me just

sitting on a bench,

what would my team do?

 

They can’t all just

sit on a bench.

There wouldn’t be enough benches.

© Vroni Holzmann

​​

Cooking

 

The tricky thing

about food

is not the cooking

 

but to make it

so it’s ready

at the same time.

 

I can prepare the most

amazing and delicious

five-course meal for you.

 

Not a problem at all.

Give me several days,

And I’ll have bits and bobs

 

ready to eat

every once in a while

for you to enjoy.

 

Yum.

 

What?

You want to eat it all

at the same time?!?

 

You will need to find

another house

with another cook

 

in it.

© Vroni Holzmann

Three Tiny Daisies

 

Today

I came home

with three daisies.

 

I picked them

after sitting in the grass

reading a book.

 

When I came home

I wanted to put the wee flowers

in a little vase.

 

I searched but I couldn’t find

a single vase

that was miniscule enough

 

for these tiny flowers.

Even a schnapps glass

was too big.

 

My little flowers

drowned in it

as if in an ocean.

 

I quickly

fished them

back out.

 

Drowned little daisies

is something I would regret

for a long time.

 

They looked a little sad

but they will be okay

I hope.

 

Tomorrow first thing

I’ll go and buy a vase

small enough

 

for tiny flowers.

© Vroni Holzmann

* Note by the editor: true story : )

What do you want?

 

What do you want?

Honestly.

Tell me.

 

Is it love?

Is it friendship?

Is it a house?

 

Is it a job?

Is it a pet?

Is it money?

 

Is it nice food?

Is it good entertainment?

Is it purpose?

 

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

 

I know what you want.

I know what your

end dream is.

 

I know what would

rock your boat

from here to eternity.

 

You want companionship.

You want someone to walk with you.

Someone to walk a part of life with you.

 

And this is all you want.

© Vroni Holzmann

Floating on the Floor

 

What is it

with all that

yoga wisdom?

 

Corpse pose?

Really?

That’s not nice.

 

So I’ve renamed it.

It now has

a lovely name.

 

Floating on

the floor.

Yes, that’s nice.

 

And so relaxing.

 

If you don’t

have time

for yoga

 

just do

one thing,

one little trick.

 

Lie down on the floor.

Close your eyes.

Imagine you are

 

floating.

 

Do it now.

You will feel

better than

 

you have felt all day.

Your worries will

just fade away.

 

Your consciousness

will submerge

somewhere

 

under the floorboards

and your subconscious will

shine through the cracks.

 

You will feel

like it all doesn’t matter.

Just for that moment

 

you can feel

so amazing

and reflect

 

on nothing

at all.

© Vroni Holzmann

The Roaring Birds

 

My head, I think it is about

to split in two, the pain!

I double over, I feel sick,

the throbbing is insane!

 

A roaring noise is killing me

it’s coming from out there

the birds are shrieking mercilessly

it’s clear they do not care!

 

They’re not my only enemy,

now sunlight’s on attack!

Some rays can make it through to me

and shatter me to fuck.

 

The beer, the wine, the rum, the schnapps,

who gave me all that gin?

It’s all a hazy memory.

I pay now for my sin.

 

I swear I’ll never drink again

but please, oh birds, your cries

they penetrate my brain so fierce,

I whimper little sighs.

 

I hate those screaming birds so much

they mock me with their song.

Whoever called them feathery friends

was clearly very wrong.

 

They’re nasty little shrieky things

I can’t forgive them yet.

Add insult to my injury!

You teach me much regret!

Oh alcohol, you nasty beast,

hear what I have to say.

You will not pass my lips again!

Not ever for today!

© Vroni Holzmann

* Note by the editor on 18/8/2020: Today is Bad Poetry Day 🙂

In honour of this beautiful occasion I put pen to paper and wrote a poem slagging off birds for singing. It had to be done and this was my best chance. I hate them birds when I'm hungover.

Amateur

 

I don’t understand

the word amateur.

 

Is it to do with money

that’s not changing hands

 

or skills

that aren’t honed?

 

Does it mean

if someone is amazing

 

at a particular thing,

but doesn’t get paid,

 

that he’s just a fucking amateur?

 

Or does it describe

the person who is

 

shit at a task,

paid or not?

 

Let’s say I’m a paramedic

and I get called to an emergency

 

and I get paid for that

after years of medical training.

 

So let’s say I inject the wrong drug

into the artery instead of the vein

 

and let’s say that person then

shuffles off this mortal coil.

 

Do they think,

just before they go,

 

fucking amateur!

Is this their last thought?

 

Or do they think,

she works as a paramedic and gets paid,

 

so she can’t be an amateur.

She’s clearly a professional

 

but obviously,

at least where it concerns me,

 

totally shit at her job!

 

Is this what they think???

Can someone explain this to me?

 

Please?!?

© Vroni Holzmann

Who we meet

 

People come and go in your life.

 

They will show up

within the frame of your whole existence.

 

Sometimes expected.

Sometimes unexpected.

 

They give you joy

or comfort

or entertainment

 

or offer you their skills

or share their shelter

or food.

 

They give you love.

They give you hate.

 

Sometimes they give you love and hate

at once.

 

They disappear

sometimes expected

sometimes unexpected

 

without trace

 

or with a huge track

that’s really easy to follow

 

and you can find them again.

What do you find?

 

Some disappear for ever.

 

Sometimes this hurts you

sometimes it doesn’t.

 

Some people give you

the most valuable gift of them all.

 

Their time.

 

They care for you

they are there for you.

 

You may appreciate this

or not even notice it.

 

You may worry about

all these things

 

but you can’t change them.

 

People will do this

with or without your consent.

 

But here’s the thing.

You are one of these people, too.

 

Disappearing and appearing

in other people’s lives.

 

And you can’t get it right.

but you can’t get it wrong, either.

 

Life will have its way

of eating you up

 

and spitting you out.

© Vroni Holzmann

 

The Bookshop

 

I went

to a bookshop.

Cosy, lovely,

affectionate bookshop.

I ran home

with my book.

Once in my room

I opened it.

The words swirled

all around me

they took me

on a journey.

Letters filled

my head

and showed me

a different world.

A travel from

bookshop to fantasy.

And then dinner.

© Vroni Holzmann

* Note by the editor: On 3/10/2020 I realised it was Bookshop Day.

For this occasion I wrote this little poem and why not.

Mr Bier

 

Mr Bier!

Will you fix my feet?

 

My name is Ilse

and my feet hold me up.

 

And they carry me around.

I can even dance on them a little.

 

Mr Bier!

You are so easy-going,

 

you don’t even mind

how you take your tea.

 

Lots of milk,

no milk,

 

you don’t mind.

You really don’t mind?

 

But we all mind!

You say:

 

I’ll have it the way

you have it, thanks.

 

That’s lovely.

Mr Bier!

 

Why do you know so much about life?

Why do you respect old ladies

 

with their sore feet?

Postscript:

 

Which tea, Mr. Bier?

Any tea, you say.

 

Any tea is fine.

That’s insane!

 

Mr Bier!

My feet!!!

© Vroni Holzmann

* Note by the editor: My mum and her chiropodist get on very well. He is great at fixing feet and has the best name in the business.

Cleaning Lady

 

Have you ever

thought about

the cleaning lady?

 

Do you know

that the cleaning lady

is as important as you?

 

Do you think it is a

charitable act

to think about

 

the cleaning lady?

Those considered

the lowest jobs

 

are actually

so crucial.

No-one deserves

 

more respect

than those who deal

with your rubbish,

 

clean your house or work space,

and your stinky toilet.

You feel good about yourself

 

because someone

is keeping your life

nice and clean.

 

Fuck you

for never

thinking about them.

 

For taking them for granted

and thinking it is

in any way justified

 

that you don’t bend down

and wipe your toilet seat

and then kneel

 

to get behind the toilet

where a bit of fluff

has collected sneakily

 

in the corner.

© Vroni Holzmann

Gardening

 

The sun is shining,

there’s a gentle breeze,

 

I’m gonna do some gardening.

 

I hate gardening!

But not today!

 

Why hate it?

It’s so much work.

 

I have to get all the stuff out.

Then I have to plug the lawnmower in.

 

For this I have to find three extensions

and lead them out of the kitchen window.

 

What a hassle!

 

And my secateurs are blunt!

And my rake is missing.

 

Wait! I never had a rake.

I just think, every single time,

 

that I need to get a rake.

But I never get one.

 

I don’t really

deal with my garden much.

 

But I like to look at it

from my kitchen window.

 

Not today!

Today it’s all

 

plug in and mow and

prune and make wonderful.

 

Hurray!

© Vroni Holzmann

European Radio

 

I have introduced

German radio

 

to my kitchen.

Now my daughter feels

 

like she’s on

holiday.

 

I bought this little

internet radio

 

and set up

two Bavarian stations.

 

The same stations

that we listen to

 

when we’re in Germany

visiting Nana.

 

There’s no more visiting Nana

since a little virus

 

has made a big show

of terrorising people.

 

It really is a very small thing,

a tiny terrorist.

 

It kills people

and maims them.

 

What an arsehole.

 

Anyways, the radio.

It plays the songs

 

they consider hip

right now over there.

 

A lot of eighties stuff

and some Ed Sheeran and Adele.

 

They are so popular!

But I don’t really dig

 

their yodelling.

 

However, I do love

New German Wave.

 

They tell us the news

on the hour.

 

And after the news

the weather forecast.

 

It is generally more accurate

than the Scottish one.

 

But sadly for the wrong country.

 

I sometimes forget about this

and look out of the window puzzled.

 

Then I remember; thunderstorms in Bavaria

and sunshine in Scotland.

 

My little radio

brings Europe

 

so close.

My daughter feels

 

like it’s a holiday

when she hears their jingles.

 

Well-known and familiar sounds

from our travels

 

to see Nana.

Who is now so far away.

 

With a tiny virus

between us.

© Vroni Holzmann

Praying

 

Why do people pray?

I think they pray

to make themselves small

 

in a good way.

 

They turn themselves

into children

looking for guidance.

 

And they practise

to be humble

every day.

 

Praying is a

meditation

on our place

 

in life.

 

The aim is

to make yourself

less important

 

and listen

to a higher

power.

 

We ask that power

to take over

and a huge

 

weight

 

is lifted from

our shoulders.

 

It is a shame

that I can’t pray.

It just never worked

 

for me.

 

I am not

humble enough.

 

And also,

I can’t believe,

even for five minutes,

 

that there is a

higher power

out there.

 

For me,

it’s just little me,

and wagon loads of people

 

in this world.

 

But no gods

or spirits

to ask for advice

 

and pray to.

 

I am a little

sad

about that.

 

But it’s fine.

© Vroni Holzmann

​​

Race is a Construct

 

I bring forward the case

in the high court of humanity.

 

The people are on trial

and the crime is racism.

 

It’s a criminal matter

as there seems certainly no

 

tiny bit of civil conduct

to be seen anywhere.

 

We begin.

Quiet in the audience!

 

First and only

proposition.

 

The human

likes to judge.

 

The judgement

of the human

 

comes first and foremost

from the eyes.

 

Ears and nose

have committed no crime

 

and shall be excused

at this point.

 

The mind of the human

will get an impression

 

and form an opinion

within a split second.

 

This matter will be settled

very easily and without doubt.

 

I see a colour of skin

and my mind is made up

 

as to what kind of person

I have in front of me.

 

Objection!

 

The truth is that

the colour of skin

 

actually tells me nothing,

and I repeat nothing,

 

about the person

I have just met.

 

Can you now please repeat

after me?

 

I know nothing,

and that means zero,

 

about the human

in front of me

 

depending on the

colour of their skin.

 

The person’s work uniform

can tell me more

 

about who they are

than their complexion.

 

But even this can be

so very deceiving

 

because in our minds

and in our eyes

 

when we see certain

work uniforms,

 

let’s say those

of the law enforcement,

 

we think they are here

to help us.

 

At least if the colour

 of our skin is white.

 

If the colour

of our skin is black

 

they’re suddenly here

to kill us?

 

How can this be?

It’s all about judgement.

 

The eyes have been

naughtily judging

 

what the mind

couldn’t know.

 

You are now

dismissed from this court.

 

Your homework for tonight

is to repeat a thousand times,

 

‘The colour of skin

tells me nothing about a person;

 

my eyes won’t judge

and my mind is open’.

 

Then keep repeating

‘my mind is open’

 

until you

fall asleep.

 

You now rest with

a good and clear

 

conscience because

race is a construct.

 

There is one race,

and one race only

 

which is referred to as

the human race.

 

The judge is now tired

Why have to explain this?

 

It’s so simple and logical.

Why has it been

 

so misconstrued?

It has to do with power.

 

Where there’s fear

there is power.

 

But please don’t fall for

those powerful people

 

as they screw

with your mind.

 

Now the day is over

and another day will begin.

 

This day will be better

and full of

 

hope.

© Vroni Holzmann

​​

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