{"id":301310,"date":"1982-01-01T00:00:58","date_gmt":"1981-12-31T23:00:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/jos-droeszeven-gedichten\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:05:08","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:05:08","slug":"jos-droeszeven-gedichten","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/jos-droeszeven-gedichten\/","title":{"rendered":"Jos Droes\r\nZeven gedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 580]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nJos Droes<\/i>\r\n\r\n
Zeven gedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n
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‘t Sehaal, de keag, de ans<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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moeders van kleur: een schor<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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groen, een kleumend grijs.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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het tij, eenzelvig, slijpt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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hen tot relief. pluvieren<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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bespeuren dit bij eb.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 581]<\/div>\r\n
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Pasen<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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pasen – een nieuwe das gekocht,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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een ei geverfd. geen beste week gehad.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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tweeduizend jaar verkalkte naastenliefde;<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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het kuiken tikt, o god, een barst er in.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 582]<\/div>\r\n
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In memoriam WR<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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van jouw bestaan het onbeleefde<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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peukje, uitgedrukt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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tussen de grijze restjes – een geluk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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moeizaam vergaard, hartstochtelijk verdedigd.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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je bent intussen al een hele dag<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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een hoekje aan het zoeken en wat prullen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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om \u00edets van al die ruimte op te vullen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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en nooit, nooit meer de vraag of het wel m\u00e1g.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 583]<\/div>\r\n
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Edward Hopper<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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op weg naar huis; grasgroen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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van weiden, nooit gezien<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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hoe hard. zoals het blauw<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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des hemels rust op vorsten, schuurt langs ‘t lover;<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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de schaduwen van schuren, willekeurig,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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het polderland versnijden als een appel.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 584]<\/div>\r\n
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Orpheus<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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vlak onder het ijs<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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het zwarte veer. een wak<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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verbindt de oevers: dansvloer<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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en dodenrijk. de schaatser<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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die achterom kijkt, haastig,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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mist het, op een haar.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 585]<\/div>\r\n
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De wijde AA<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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hemelse winter, zo dun<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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en strak gespannen. blauw<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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als godsvrucht denkt de boer,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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een blos op de wang van zijn vrouw.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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zijn liefde is \u00e9\u00e9n nacht ijs<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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waarin het sterren schiet:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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krakend, splinternieuw,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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niet te vertrouwen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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haar liefde klinkt als ijzer<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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op ijs, helder en koud.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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hun schaatsen ritsen lijzig<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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de stilte dicht. het houdt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 586]<\/div>\r\n
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Diner<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
ik volg je wimpers als<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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een neefje, allerliefst,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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dat je vergeefs aanbidt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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vergeef me. zag je het?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div><\/div>
\n

Over dit hoofdstuk\/artikel<\/h3>\n

Jos Dr\u00f6es<\/a><\/p>\n
\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[p. 580] Jos Droes Zeven gedichten ‘t Sehaal, de keag, de ans \u00a0 moeders van kleur: een schor \u00a0 groen, een kleumend grijs. \u00a0 het tij, eenzelvig, slijpt \u00a0 hen tot relief. pluvieren \u00a0 bespeuren dit bij eb. [p. 581] Pasen \u00a0 pasen – een nieuwe das gekocht, \u00a0 een ei geverfd. geen beste week… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-301310","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nJos Droes Zeven gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/jos-droeszeven-gedichten\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Jos Droes Zeven gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 580] Jos Droes Zeven gedichten ‘t Sehaal, de keag, de ans \u00a0 moeders van kleur: een schor \u00a0 groen, een kleumend grijs. \u00a0 het tij, eenzelvig, slijpt \u00a0 hen tot relief. pluvieren \u00a0 bespeuren dit bij eb. 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