It’s not as dramatic as in that beautiful Burt Bacharach song, as performed by Trijntje Oosterhuis in the clip below. But this house? These pages? They are empty now. At least, if you are looking for fresh poetry. They’re not empty, because you can still find some wonderful poetry, but there will not be posted anything new here, anymore. The wonderful poets who have contributed are still writing. Great poetry and other cool stuff. Just not here. That has to do with me. I have jumped ship, and have taken my business elsewhere. A while ago.
This Medium publication has…
left behind broken, a
reminder of some people’s fun here.
I pick it up, before
a bird does.
Litter. It’s literally everywhere. Amazing what people callously leave behind. In the streets, in parks. In nature. Places they enjoy. Have fun in. And then, ruin.
The litter left behind is not just uncomfortable for other humans using that space. Finding a shuttlecock is not that bad. Or a candy wrapper. It doesn’t hurt. But a piece of broken glass can seriously hurt.
It’s the birds and other animals that use the space too, make it even more enjoyable, that are…
There was a time I published a story on Medium every single day. Sure, it was not a very long time, but I tried it. It didn’t work as I wished it would. Despite my effort, and an increase in number of readers, the time spent on my work by Medium Members was not so high that my monthly earnings from the MPP (Medium Partner Program) rose above that magic $10 mark — let alone 10 Euro.
Then there was a time I spent many minutes in Facebook groups for Medium Writers. I even went so far as to become…
A flattened frog, rotting fish, bird in the water. Funghi on a tree. You won’t find those over-produced, so-called perfect world shots in my Instagram feed, but on occasion there will be a photo of decay. And if it rains, there will be greyness. Just as there is radiance in the pictures when the sun shines. It is as I see the world. Every day. Without filters. Well, okay, a filter now and then can compensate my lack of photography skills once in a while. Especially when it comes to lighting and contrast. But not to beautify a world that…
See the storm.
See it, don’t hesitate.
Remember what happened. What went wrong.
See the storm. And this time
make it stop.
In her diary, Anne Frank wrote about hearing the thunder rolling in. About how the world was being turned into a desert. She was in the midst of the worst atrocity in human history. Like her, people had heard the thunder, had seen the storm coming. But they weren’t able or willing to act.
A poem for (inter)national hugging day.
It’s International Hugging Day today. And boy do we need a hug in these times. So,
if you just won an election and are filled with hope,
or you just saw the other side win and lost all hope,
Are you looking across the table to your partner
wondering how you are going to make ends meet this month,
or maybe how you are ever going to get out of this,
Not sure how you keep up trying to fit a normal working day
into 24 hours when you are also…
A poet patiently tries to find revenue
Poets on Medium are a wonderful bunch. But increasingly, they are voicing their discontent. Not in words, that they have done generously since the changes to the Medium Partner Program (MPP) revenue calculation system in 2019. No, this time they are shuttering their accounts. Because, since the change to the MPP, poets aren’t earning on the platform. Their work is, as poetry always has been, too niche-y. Not enough people spend real time on reading poetry for poets to earn a decent amount of money on Medium. Before the MPP change, the income…