A good friend asked me this question the other day, in reference to my (now officially longer than three months) stay here in the Netherlands. I began answering her question via email, however after a few paragraphs I realised that this information had to be made public. Speculation upon these and other matters then led me to think about some more quirks and characteristics of Dutch culture that make living here so interesting.
Tag: hollandasia (page 1 of 1)
& if i ever do learn a word of dutch
as in really learn it learn its body
then the only word i want to know
is kus this beautiful word for a kiss
or is it to kiss as in the verb to be
to be a stranger in the mouth of
another language another way of
breathing after all isn't that just
another way of writing language
the way the mind breathes air &
creates tangible concepts like to
be as in i am or we are they're not
& then to move on to know plurals
as in kussen the verb couple to be
a pair of kisses against my lips as
in the curve of this chocolate egg
to know space between two kisses
& to understand the possibility of
breathing meaning into chocolate
chickens or word lovers in dutch
after all there are several points at
which our languages rest against
each other like two tired bicyclists
kissing forever in a quiet lane
& to know the space of this space
the physical meaning of a word not
meant to live in a dictionary but in
the mouth to move through dutch
like stars through unexplored space
after all isn't language like a shiny
spaceship forever tumbling toward
the kus the kussen the be the to be
bright & exploding stars our lives
full of curved static words we wish
to move between like stations on
space lines our destination kussen
& if i ever learn the word for kus
in my own half language in which
i could have been born to be to not
be heard to speak without hearing
the smack of that kus against the
porthole spaces to hear it coming
or departing perhaps upon arrival
i will breathe that air called dutch
& know its velocity its private kus
in between kussen as soft shadows
born of lips parse what is felt into
being to be i am to kiss to be alive