Yeah, the train left the station, it had two lights on behind,
Well, the blue light was my baby and the red light was my mind.
All my loves in vain.

C O B R A

Long walks at night--
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
trying to fight off
their beer-maddened husbands.

Een blind date kan voor verrassingen zorgen...

Zij was de hemel en ik de zee
het lijkt of we elkaar begroeten
maar de hemel en de zee
zullen elkaar nooit ontmoeten

I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder,
chaos-especially activity that seems to have no meaning.
It seems to me to be the road toward freedom...

Love, a question
has destroyed you.
I have come back to you
from thorny uncertainty.
I want you straight as
the sword or the road.

But you insist
on keeping a nook
of shadow that I do not want.

My love,
understand me,
I love all of you,
from eyes to feet, to toenails,
inside,
all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love,
who knocks at your door.
It is not the ghost, it is not
the one who once stopped
at your window.
I knock down the door:
I enter your life:
I come to live in your soul:
you cannot cope with me.

You must open door to door,
you must obey me,
you must open your eyes
so that I may search in them,
you must see how I walk
with heavy steps
along all the roads
that, blind, were waiting for me.

Do not fear,
I am yours,
but
I am not the passenger or the beggar,
I am your master,
the one you were waiting for,
and now I enter
your life,
no more to leave it,
love, love, love,
but to stay.

For once, the hyperbole ist justified:
Louisiana Red is the Blues.

H I M B A

"Niets is zo bourgeois als
de angst om burgerlijk te zijn".

Het is tijd om Albert King te etaleren,
hij is de meester die jullie moeten eren,
zelfs Clapton, Hendrix en al d'anderen.

Dansu wo shimashô ka? (Japan)

 I could take the Harlem night
and wrap around you,
Take the neon lights and make a crown,
Take the Lenox Avenue busses,
Taxis, subways,
And for your love song tone their rumble down.
Take Harlem's heartbeat,
Make a drumbeat,
Put it on a record, let it whirl,
And while we listen to it play,
Dance with you till day--
Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl.

Those with very loud voices in their throats
are nearly incapable of thinking subtle thoughts.

Shake hands with the devil,
make him crawl in the sand
I'm a woman,
I'm a ball of fire
I'm a woman,
I can make love to a crocodile

Be the tick, Be the tock
You're the rhythm that rocks
To the beat that never stops

"Poetry is just the evidence of life.
If your life is burning well,
poetry is just the ash."