Tuesday, September 1, 2020



Chile, 1973

Dedicated To Victor Jara

Guess that's how it went
he had to stand there
under the burning sun
as if he had a clue where to go
the hatred of the executioner
burnt right through his soul
he thought about her...
her smile
the dress she wore that day
and the kiss she gave him
as he would not be away for long
come back home the very same day.
his thoughts fell on the ground like drops of blood
like the tears of his beloved land
like the names of your father, your brother, your son, your husband
and like all those songs I cannot sing for you
about the tender dreams
in the heart of a fallen man.


Birds still die in your violent silences
no longer sing in the poison of your hatred
losing their wings, their self-esteem
Like me.

It's scary being always the last person in a row
It's scary when they make your name swim in blood
It's scary when you're forgotten
It's scary not to be invited to the party
It's scary to be less appreciated, less loved, less preferred
It's scary to be rejected
to be dispensed, eliminated, isolated
not loved
It's scary when they laugh at you
It's scary being humiliated
feeling powerless
crippled by gossip, being the third person
on the bus of your youth, sitting on your own
life forever without safety belt
It's very, very scary to be terrorized.

Without You

The memory of your loving smile
 lingers on in my life,
caressing my soul so deep inside.

Only now I understand
why you waved at airplanes
while we were having a reunion
about numbers, death to come
and I am quite sure now
I will not meet you anymore
neither in my life
nor in yours
I have awaited some stars
and illuminated visions
whether to find out
if I could still see you
some time
dancing with my heart in your hand
leaning on your laugh
my memory slowly cooled down
it became cold
it became night.


And suddenly...
I am this ancient soul
a woman
more than
four thousand years old
carrying nothing on my back
but water
soon I will be home
where my sweetheart
waits for me
coming out
of the bath house
fresh, shining and
loving me
carrying nothing on my back
but water
I don’t know the lava will come
and overflow me
don't know I will be found back
in one piece
and I am still unaware
the earth will be no longer mine
within a period of time
carrying nothing on my back
but water.


Why do you ask me
Whether I feel unhappy
And if my day takes a bath in despair
captured within four walls
only wifi, virtual hugs, no kisses
slowly freezing
in a doomed scenario
assuming my house is not a castle
but a prison
leaving my body sleepless
in need of alcohol, pills,
addicted to an illusion
silencing my fear
the concept of fatality
as if missing fresh air
is as bad as being on a ventilator
fighting for your breath
blood clots in your lungs
nurses dressed
in astronaut suits
being your only angels
guiding you from the pandemic
to the road of death.


MARIAN EIKELHOF is a poet who works in her daily life as a psychologist. Her work inspires her to write about the emotional aspects of life. Not only she describes feelings of love, intimacy and desire, but also she reflects about states of profound sadness and feelings of emptiness. On the whole she criticizes dehumanisation and an ongoing process of alienation in human relationships. Marian’s poetry book “ a zero hour contract with life” has been translated from Dutch into English and Turkish. For children who are being bullied, she wrote the book “Lekker Boeiend!” (“I am not impressed!”) and together with her sister Els Eikelhof she has written the manual “Feel yourself Okay” for teachers guiding children with a disability. Her poems have been published by several prestigious magazines and Marian is a peace activist defending humanity by attending poetry festivals in Europe and Latin America. 

1 comment :

  1. Hello dear Marian,
    Very special and impressive to read your poems and story.
    Hope to see you soon again with the ladies from Werkhoven...
    Groet van Simone