Well (Freshers) Come


Marjon, first year, butterfly print
dress, heart tiks, sun beams warm
her smooth arm in Prisma lunchroom
I’m here she thinks what a throng
I’ll go clippety-clopping in and out
the ivory sheds and eat a prickly pear
now I do dare, and sample Tilburg,
a.k.a. Absurdistan, but first things
first my clothes fit and so do I
I’m sitting at table with my timetable
by my Redbull my copy, pristine,
of Organisational Behaviour, sixth
edition, Huczynski and Buchanan,
smells good, weighs a ton but I’m ready
get set go grasp my chances, ink
and cyber-space carpaccio welcome
I am, one foot at a time, maybe jog
oh it’s so green, my cells thrive, bees
kisses eyes the balancing act, Act 1

May Sketches

From Simon’s 7th floor we see fullness of trees.
We send our precisely cautious understanding,
the balance of our mind
like a paper plane towards creamy smoke
from 2 chimneys over near Dongen,
distant other-industry.

17 letters are branded on the skyline above Koopmans,
logo in the sky with dyads, dripping graffiti, crucified for pride
and bucking under-renown.
On the site of the Chile mural, FEB letters,
indestructible,
like the stuff the bad cyborg was made of
in Terminator 2.

Prisma glares sagely at Warande, insect-frame roof aerials tickling
complex air, smell of tyres, cheese pastries and oak leaves
in the atmospheres.

Plains of pebbles unite UvT roofs.
but unique debris defines each
(a smashed coffee cup or two on the roof of the SSC
and Mr Fantastic’s long dried-out husk).

At ground level, medleys of jeans
and this season’s boots and Birkenstocks,
student hairstyles in evolutions not revolutions,
gentle plagiarism of genres.

The wheelbarrow man wears denim too but he’s a hole in his left thigh
from hauling sand from the side door to P’s koffiekamer
to the entrance to the Univers.

In C17, Marga opens a brown envelope with a class list
but the sender has forgotten to sign it.
The fountain holds its note though;
its tripping splashing warms faces.
It’s May.

ORIGINAL SIN

(Science Cafe 24 March 2009)

I. Open Dromen

de fundamentele en harmonieuze verbondenheid
van alle levende wezens
ze hebben een telefoontap lopen
en dat is maar het topje van de ijsberg
bijenkorf van verzamelingen; slimme hommels
bouwen een hemel van herinneringen
hyves hyves hyves hyves hyves hyves
bekijk je profiel en nieuwste krabbels


II. Open Boek

ben ik een open boek?
als ik dicht klap waaien deeltjes in de lucht
klein bedrag pinnen mag
declaratie van afhankelijkheid
bel ik u gelegen?
ik mag u namelijk een fantastische aanbieding doen!
de fundamentele en harmonieuze verbondenheid
van alle levende wezens


III. Open Geheimen

ze weten alles, echt alles
man, they knew everything, they knew all kinds of shit about me
minuscule vliegjes verstoppen zich op Times New Roman
bijna onzichtbare spinachtige geheimen van waarheid
mijn merken? remind me later, remind me later
ik heb niks te verbergen
ik heb mijn gegevens verborgen achter in de tuin
in mijn composthoop en ik vertrouw wormen


IV. Open Gordijnen

de gordijnen gaan langzaam open, een striptease
en de toeschouwers begeren mijn honingpotjes
alle leven op aarde is verbonden met elkaar
je mag alles van me weten schatje, behalve mijn pincode
ik ben een eindeloze nachttrein, waarvan een deel van de reizigers
voor altijd onbekend blijft
hun kaartjes worden niet gecontroleerd
broederschap van anonieme fantomen

V. Open For Business

ik woon in een glazen huis; ik ben naakt en schaamteloos
data data overal en not a drop to drink
mijn buren gluren de fundamentele en harmonieuze
verbondenheid van alle levende wezens
invasion of the body snatchers
welcome to your amazon.com
we have recommendations for you
the price is cheap beep beep beep

Bottoms Up!

(voor de almanak van Magister JFT, de studievereniging van de Juridische Faculteit)

Order order, order!!
Broers blogt magisterial magestic Magister
magic magnet
TAKE HIM DOWN TO THE CELLS
(For the record)

Eijlander Smulders Thijssen Schoenmaekers van Limpt
Bart Pepers Wieringa Rot Verburg
Succesverhaal
Westmalle Dubbel
I AM THE LAW

AKD Prinsen Van Wijmen
sive universales sive particulares
Bijdrage leveren
(bakske koffie lustrum lust en leed)
MENINGEN TE VENTILEREN

Wat betekent dit concreet?
Succesverhaal
LISA SIMPSON Legum Magister
State your occupation
gewaarmerkte kopie

Grensverkennend
Grensverleggend
Grenzeloos
WE ARE THE LAW
Reizen-Bedrijvendagen-Overlegorganen

Lustrous lustrum
Mutatis mutandis
Walkie talkie, joepie de poepie
sive universales sive particulares
TAKE HIM DOWN TO THE CELLS

Broers Blogt
YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH
Use your faculties in the Law Faculty
gewaarmerkte kopie
joepie de poepie

Legum Magister
Snelpleitwedstrijd
Bijdrage leveren
Breedste zin des woords
BOTTOM UP

Writer's Block
(for the 1st year anniversary of the Scriptorium)

I could not see the wood(s) for the trees,
I could not plot my path through the trunks.
I entered with the best of intentions
yet found myself in an unclear place thick with saplings
struggling towards the light, green dust floating down
and up in stencilled light.
My fingers itched.

I could not write on the trees, I could not make my own path,
The main path was elusive; paths were only other paths.
I found a pond and stared at its opaque cover.
Ducks went about their business,
water boatmen balanced their acts.
My storm hovered above their calm, my toes
burned with shame.

I walked three times around the perimeter,
I could not muster the strength to plunge
into the very heart of the matter.
I plucked leaves and rolled them like cigars.
I stared at the cracks in the bark.
My lower back was wet with sweat
and I had done nothing.

Help

Help

Help

She touched her toes, unrolled a map, chose a route, ate a snack, tracked a path, stopped to chat, took some twigs, breathed in sense, kept it clear, chose a spot, drew the links, lit a fire, wet the pen, won the time, laid the lines, wrote a text.

Dit is een "stick-up" (on the occasion of the installation of a new noticeboard in the photocopy room, third floor Prisma)

Leeg, puur, alleen, een weiland van kurk,
bestrooi mij met inspiratie, knip en plak.

Gooi jullie ideeen op mijn beige hart,
prik dit bord vol met zinvolle art.

道可道，非常道

Translation of The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao
by Amy Hsiao

（一）

一旦一条路径被规划，
开幕彩带被剪裁，
那就是生机。

小草被践踏成泥，铺上砾石，
金黄色落叶被镶入石层下。

这条路径并非完美曲直，
但其意图却明显如个诱惑者。

它将直线光斜切成两半，
它无可阻挡的动力也穿过校园。

此地，它是路径之王，
引领着所有其他小径和路线。

它像伦敦塔桥般的纵横着，
它被人们盲目却信任地用着。

因为它背负着使命。

（二）

夜晚，这条路径尘即于尾端，

公园沉思于缓慢的时间流里，如同蛞蝓。

鬼魅努力从混乱中构思的轨道，
对生命的流线却太过朦胧。

无需肩负大任的池塘，
却可以在一旁深刻地思索着。

Het Tao dat genoemd wordt, is niet het eeuwige Tao

道 可 道 ， 非 常 道。

Voor Amy Tsao


I

Toen het pad eenmaal was verwekt
werden de linten doorgeknipt.

Er was een geboorte.

Het gras vertrapt tot modder, bedekt met grind,
en bladgoud op zijn plek gehamerd onder de stenen.

Het pad is kaarsrecht,
maar zijn bedoelingen helder als van een verleider,

Het splijt het rechtlijnige park in twee diagonale stukken,
penetreet de campus met onhoudbare voorwaartse dynamiek,

Voorspeld in alle andere lijnen en
rechte routes in de buurt,
is het de koning onder de paden.

Het wordt dagelijks overgestoken zoals de London Bridge;
het wordt elke dag genomen, keer op keer,
blindelings, in vertrouwen.

Circulus in probando


II

‘s Nachts is het pad leeg en de uiteinden
komen tot elkaar.
Het park denkt, de tijd
gaat langzaam.

Zoals slakken,
weven geesten slierten van
chaos te vaag om
in het daglicht een spoor na te laten
en de vijver zoekt bedaard diepte en dieptes
zonder enige verantwoordelijkheid.


(vertaling: Anne-Marie van Hoof)

The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao

for Amy Hsiao

I

Once the path was conceived
the ribbons were cut away.

There was a birth.

The grass was trod to mud, then gravel lain,
and gold leaf hammered into place under the stones.

The path is not perfectly straight,
but its intentions are clear as a seducer’s.

It bisects the rectilinear park diagonally,
penetrates the campus with inexorable forward dynamics,

Foreshadowed in all the other lines and
straight routes in the vicinity,
it is the king of paths.

It’s daily crossed like London Bridge; it’s
taken again, and again, blindly,
trustingly.

Because it begs its question.


II

At night the path is empty and the ends
join.
The park thinks, time
slows.

Like slugs,
ghosts weave trails of
chaos too vague to
leave a daylit trace
and the pond leisurely seeks depth and depths
with complete lack of responsibility.

Star In The Woods

Ik ben
Samuel Leroy Jackson
Hollywood acteur
You may have seen
My films
You may have heard
My name
Yet the movie game
Of lights and fame
I am not here
To play

After two months training students
Of the dramatic artsIn Amsterdam
The workshops were done
Masterclasses completed
I have migrated south
To warm receptive climes
For there’s a new thing
A fresh plot in my life
I am going to open and run
A Hollywood delicatessen
In the woods beyond the campus
Right here in Tilburg
Two hundred year old proud city
I am honoured, and humble as the honey bee

So please please get a little fat
It is OK to do so
Forgo Albron
I’ll feed you in the woods
Come find me there; I will sustain you

With actorly technique
I’ll entice you to splash out on spices
Take a gamble on inspiring fruit and innovative ices
Regard my rare pears
My princely quince
Come buy come buy
Contemplate my cherry pie
Cranberries, bilberries, tilberries
Taste and try
Taste and try

And as we banter and barter
Across the counter
Help me learn
Your language, your punchy Dutch
Cornflakey crunch that I love so much
There ain’t nothin like it
Russian French Apache – a tongue none can touch

We will have a cultural exchange
Let us all broaden our range

Here’s more food for thought
In the evenings I will not rest from
My day’s labours
I will contribute my share to the Tilburg night
Moonlighting in the Nieuwe Vorst en Paradox
Dancing to the four stages of culture shocks
To techno, jazz, folk, soul and rock
Wearing my iconic beard and Scottish kilt
Lighting the halls with a North American lilt
As I scat a scooby doodle do wop dat

Come to my day life come to my night life
I will show any soul who cares to witness
My ego evolving, true mental fitness
My road leading me
Out of old spotlights
I cater to the city’s appetites
While Tilburg basks in the bicentennial
I will prosper in 2009
And there will be no time for golf or Pilates
In the shade of eiken en beuken
I will run my business
Joggers, dog walkers, students and staff will visit my
Deli of delights, winkel in the Warande where the eight ways
Meet
The star-shaped park will host a star
And I will lay my products upon you
No eenheidsworst
But unity sausage will be
My calling card
It’s a blend of the finest ingredients
I sure as hell guarantee
My 1620 waffles will wow you and
My Samuel Leroy Jackson cakes
Will taste the best

October Eyes

lost glove gathering dew dropped on a bench
by Dante
fat green wheelie bin squatting out of sight
by Simon
oak and beech leaves tube-blown to a mountain
by Olympia

*

exam room scholar heads bowed over paper hair hanging
(innocent like sleeping children)
inside Cobbenhagen

window cleaners wielding telescopic squeegees
(as if washing an elephant)
outside Warande

*

cyclists

teeth gritted

iPods humming

bent forward

coming

along windy routes

Clipper Square ... Pious Street ... Hill Street ... New Country Street

Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path Red Cycle Path

Het enige dat je weten moet

(opgedragen aan de surveillanten van de uvt)

Dit examen begon voordat jullie verwekt werden
Het heeft geen einde
Doe je best

Zorg ervoor dat je gsm aan staat
(de hele tijd en voor altijd)

Kijk af bij je buurman
Maak gebruik van spiekbriefjes,
rekenmachines en woordenboeken
Ga online

Kijk goed naar de notities die je op de palm van je hand hebt geschreven

Praat tijdens het examen, bel je vrienden en familie
Ontmoet en praat met elkaar
Eet en drink

Denk
Reflecteer
Ga bij jezelf te rade

Beantwoord alle vragen en geen van de vragen

Dagdroom
Neem een dutje als het moet

Kijk bij iedereen af
Pleeg plagiaat, in godsnaam

Zet je horloge to infinity and beyond
Test je limiet

Steek je hand op (als je een vraag hebt)
Roep en schreeuw (als je ergens onzeker over bent)

Relax
Be cool

Dit examen is oneindig

Execution

Eating a sober lunch of rye bread with peanut butter, the UD spins
his ergonomically sound chair towards the window and for inspiration searches
outside, for the cast iron sculpture’s newly moved blue bolted prow. His gaze pans
past pond towards TiasNimbas and the proud ship of knowledge. He sees
it has been given the second chance it deserves. He reflects
on Tilburg’s murdered maple - no reprieve there; the saw’s buzz still echoes
so he will join the protest at four the following day, though he knows
he would never chain himself to a tree, and of anthropomorphism he disapproves.

His swiss cheese plant, the office’s own groene oase, spills
over papers and pens, his desk’s organized chaos, forms
a higgledy-piggledy mini-jungle, defies
the consensus of grey furniture. If he uproots
this palm, the room’s uniformity triumphs
but it will suffer no herinrichting like the vijfsprong. The thesis he is editing needs
trimming, thinning; his plant he will always spare. It is paragraphs he sentences
to cuts, and with mighty pen slashes.
Now he’s digested brown bread and dangling participles, he turns
to the production of his own paper, the tree he daily drip feeds
with data, nourishes with sources, in readiness for when he prunes,
fine-tunes
and eventually publishes.

He begins.