{"id":302410,"date":"1992-01-01T00:01:19","date_gmt":"1991-12-31T23:01:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/marieke-jonkman-7\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:43:23","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:43:23","slug":"marieke-jonkman-7","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/marieke-jonkman-7\/","title":{"rendered":"Marieke Jonkman"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 534]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nMarieke Jonkman<\/i>\r\n<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Wandeling<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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De pauwen krijsen in de nacht. De kathedraal<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van beuken kraakt. Demonen achter de pilaren.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wolken jagen boven takken. Er heerst getril.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ik loop weer met de wandelwagen. Het kind<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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is weg. Het wil niets van zijn moeder weten.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Verharde wortels zorgen voor oneffenheden.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wie zendt hier licht en waarheid neder<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en vult de wagen met zijn zoon? Blond haar,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wijd open ogen turend naar de bladerkroon?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 535]<\/div>\r\n

Zoon<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Altijd gehouden van de kapsalon.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Terwille van de klank: Mijn zoon,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mijn zoon Absolom! Ik zag hem<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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schommelen, zijn haar als touw.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Hier ben ik in de rouw ondanks<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de zegening van spiegels en flacons,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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seringengeur en paars gewaad.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een vrouw wordt hier herboren.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Enigszins. Kom me niet te na.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\r\nIn jouw plaats gestorven<\/i>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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is innerlijk te horen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 536]<\/div>\r\n

Zwangerschap<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Soms zijn omstandigheden gezegend.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Duren die langer dan een kwartier,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een half uur? Het heeft hier geregend<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en de aarde geurt. Warme bloesem<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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aan de bomen. Ik voel mijn boezem<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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komen en het kind trekt onderin.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Is dit het begin? Naar binnen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Maar ‘t is al weer gebeurd.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 537]<\/div>\r\n

Ontmoeting<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Mijn oogopslag verander ik zodat de blik<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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niet neerslaat als jij kijkt. Jij gelooft<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in mij, bereikt dat ik besta in blouse en rok.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Drijft jaloezie jou naar mijn wespetaille<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en mijn bijenbuik? Je moest eens weten:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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niet op de hoogte ben je van de barst<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in mijn bestaan. Ik zie je niet meer aan.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 538]<\/div>\r\n

Vest<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Een vest moet vallen. Ik mag niet klagen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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over schraalheid maar zij nekt het baren.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Was het maar andersom: bolling en ronding<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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onder het vest. Horen borsten bij mij?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Er is sprake van bezetenheid. Vannacht<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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probeer ik weer: een vest moet vallen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 539]<\/div>\r\n

Familieband<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Mamma’s strikken waaien zijwaarts, buigen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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om. Dat zij terugkomt in jouw haardracht!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Dol ben ik op al die mooie haarlintkleuren.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Aan geuren geen gebrek: zij viel op hyacint.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ruik je liever sering, roos of droge mint?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Span je de haarband als herinnering?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Dat is de wijding van een kroongetuige,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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je hemelt op wie je op handen draagt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 540]<\/div>\r\n

Vraag<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Genomen en bezet: geschonden.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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De wonden zijn verbonden. Veel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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te mooi dit rijm, het doet de ronde<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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schoonheid aan, terwijl ik walging<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zoek, vernietiging in de vertedering,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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haat, wanhoop, touw om de keel,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hier staat een vrouw te veel,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hier staat een vrouw die springt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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daar nu de woede dieper dringt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dan ooit: onverwerkt en onvoltooid.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Zwicht ik voor wat is verricht<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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of kies ik voor beperkt bestaan?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Herder, laat je schaapje gaan.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 541]<\/div>\r\n

Jaloezie<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Jaloezie laat mij ontstaan, geeft mij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een rok, spant mij de diadeem.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Verholen ben ik jaren meegegaan.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Nu loop ik heerlijk door je heen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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open en bloot, frank en vrij.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ontvang applaus. Geen zweem<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van jaloezie, want jij bent mij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gelijk: verbitterd door de jaren.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 542]<\/div>\r\n

Adelborst<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Een borst met pijn verliest haar naam,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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het vlees dat beter is dan benen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Mijn tepels weten van geen staan.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Naamloos ben ik, leeg, de kinderen zijn heen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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De vorm is hopeloos voorbij. Dit wil ik<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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voelen maar niet weten.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
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Over dit hoofdstuk\/artikel<\/h3>\n

Anton Ent<\/a><\/p>\n
\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[p. 534] Marieke Jonkman Wandeling \u00a0 De pauwen krijsen in de nacht. De kathedraal \u00a0 van beuken kraakt. Demonen achter de pilaren. \u00a0 Wolken jagen boven takken. Er heerst getril. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Ik loop weer met de wandelwagen. Het kind \u00a0 is weg. Het wil niets van zijn moeder weten. \u00a0 Verharde wortels zorgen… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-302410","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nMarieke Jonkman · 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\/marieke-jonkman-7\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Marieke Jonkman · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 534] Marieke Jonkman Wandeling \u00a0 De pauwen krijsen in de nacht. De kathedraal \u00a0 van beuken kraakt. Demonen achter de pilaren. \u00a0 Wolken jagen boven takken. Er heerst getril. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Ik loop weer met de wandelwagen. Het kind \u00a0 is weg. Het wil niets van zijn moeder weten. \u00a0 Verharde wortels zorgen... 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De kathedraal \u00a0 van beuken kraakt. Demonen achter de pilaren. \u00a0 Wolken jagen boven takken. Er heerst getril. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Ik loop weer met de wandelwagen. Het kind \u00a0 is weg. Het wil niets van zijn moeder weten. \u00a0 Verharde wortels zorgen... 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