{"id":302489,"date":"1993-01-01T00:01:10","date_gmt":"1992-12-31T23:01:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:44:03","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:44:03","slug":"herman-coenengedichten","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/","title":{"rendered":"Herman Coenen\r\n\r\nGedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 364]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nHerman Coenen<\/i>\r\n\r\n
\r\nGedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Promenade<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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In de holle, van laaiende kaarsen-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zee, sterre der zee, met kindertonen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gevulde – oe-oe, oe-oe als toen je<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zelf op de fiets met de handen als<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een scheepsroeper door het tunneltje dat<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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trager trager als de tijd je oe-oe<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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nazong – de grot waar boven het<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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walmend roet die kleine keelstem op de<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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arm gedragen door starre zwarte gezichten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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neergestaard – hic loco – en hij er<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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lustig bovenuit, met kleine priemende ogen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Buiten, ja buiten tussen de duiven, glanzend<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vochtige keien, banken, auto’s, buiten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op het plein wachten twee engelen, twee<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gezichten, \u00e9\u00e9n vleugelpaar in zuinigheid gedeeld,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00e9\u00e9n tweegesprek, ze wachten maar ze nemen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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nee wees maar niet bang, ze nemen je niet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mee. Die tijd is lang voorbij. Je mag<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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je rondgang maken, op je ooie dooie mag je<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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flaneren, keuvelen, gewichtig als jongens de brug<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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uitproberen die lichtjes schudt als je diep<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in het water spuugt. Het stroomt. De stenen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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pijlers nauwelijks gesleten, al die eeuwen. En<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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weer die gezichten, mistig, nevelig, aan flarden<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gevlogen door meeuwen. Van onder je voeten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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onder de bogen uit, met hoge kreten van<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ie-ie, ie-ie ons krijgen ze niet.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 365]<\/div>\r\n

Ark<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Het was te vergelijken met een ark,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dit huis. Al bleef de veestapel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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klein: een of twee katten ergens<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op de overloop of het plat dak,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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sinds kort een jonge hond, lang<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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haar, vrolijk boven aan de trap.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Maar alles dreef, als een groot<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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houten timmerwerk, de ramen altijd<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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beslagen en stoffige leren banden met<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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saga’s waarin alles voor alle tijden<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bleef bewaard. Jouw baard, haar<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ronde meisjesbril, het ideale aura<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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voor een schipperspaar. De ene<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zoon al lang aan een verre<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wereld verloren. Rondom steeg<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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welk water maar kon stijgen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Maar dat was allemaal niets,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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je kon er de koffiekan mee vullen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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nee, wat het deed was het diepe ruim<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gecamoufleerd met tegels als een kelder,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vochtig washok. Hier trilden stofwebben<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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als dagpauwogen op de oude bast<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van een kastanje. Als polychrome kerstrozen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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groeiden bladeren van versneden textiel stuk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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voor stuk aaneen tot weefsels van hisbiscus,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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lathyrus, ailanthus. De muren kregen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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oren, ogen, maar kwamen handen tekort<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
[p. 366]<\/div>
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om over deze wijde, donkere schoot<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ineen te slaan. In de verste hoek<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bedekte schuim de wanden. Hier viel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zonlicht, door het jaargetij gekoeld,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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omlaag. Soms sneeuw.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Het littekken op je voorhoofd werd dan<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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voor kort onzichtbaar. Alsof de tijd stil<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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stond, recht boven de luid sidderende<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bekkens, de klinkende cymbalen, de<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ronkende, roffelende trommelstokken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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over de dierenhuiden die hier tot<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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leven kwamen met woorden waarvan<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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geen mensenkind ooit had gehoord.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Zolang het water maar niet zakte en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de duiven op het dak zich<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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redelijk afzijdig hielden.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
\n

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

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

[p. 364] Herman Coenen Gedichten Promenade \u00a0 In de holle, van laaiende kaarsen- \u00a0 zee, sterre der zee, met kindertonen \u00a0 gevulde – oe-oe, oe-oe als toen je \u00a0 zelf op de fiets met de handen als \u00a0 een scheepsroeper door het tunneltje dat \u00a0 trager trager als de tijd je oe-oe \u00a0 nazong –… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-302489","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nHerman Coenen 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\/herman-coenengedichten\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Herman Coenen Gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 364] Herman Coenen Gedichten Promenade \u00a0 In de holle, van laaiende kaarsen- \u00a0 zee, sterre der zee, met kindertonen \u00a0 gevulde – oe-oe, oe-oe als toen je \u00a0 zelf op de fiets met de handen als \u00a0 een scheepsroeper door het tunneltje dat \u00a0 trager trager als de tijd je oe-oe \u00a0 nazong –... 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Lees verder","og_url":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/","og_site_name":"Uitgeverij Van Oorschot","article_modified_time":"2021-06-04T14:44:03+00:00","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Est. reading time":"2 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/","url":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/","name":"Herman Coenen Gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/#website"},"datePublished":"1992-12-31T23:01:10+00:00","dateModified":"2021-06-04T14:44:03+00:00","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/"]}]},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/herman-coenengedichten\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"DBNL","item":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":3,"name":"Herman Coenen Gedichten"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/#website","url":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/","name":"Uitgeverij Van Oorschot","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/dbnl\/302489","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/dbnl"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/dbnl"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=302489"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=302489"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}