Petra Hermans's Blog: The Religion of The Blue Circle, page 29

September 22, 2019

The last fossil

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


The last fossil


I thought, to persuade and seduce

you, in my bedroom.

Two words that do not exist,

or have been written, the last two seconds

in my vocabulary or dictionary.


I thought, let’s persuade and convince,

how to be mislead.


It could have reminded me,

of someone, so slightly.


I think, when you want

to lose it All, I make sure

it was all so very loved.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 23, 2019


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


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Published on September 22, 2019 20:28

Pair without glasses

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


Pair without glasses


I have been wondering, through

my woods, looking for one sound.


I could not, find it.


It is a long, long history,

my family knew how to teach me

to take care and look after

new, completely lost noises.


It is not the light that shines in my eye,

it is passion for Time.


When I used to walk, older fields,

nature and poetry combined

in a futuristic shade of lost stories,


wind of airs

lost it All

during my hairs,

that has been written, not imagined,

a letter of a shade, not a shadow!


Whitest silver tinkling sounds

are now shining upon my shoulders,

as I walk lost to be in Time,

in the after glance by your eyes.


I sure, must have been taken

by that old sight because

the pair of glaßses, somehow

was left, in the night.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 22, 2019


© 2019 Petra Hermans


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9977960-all-along-in-the-sky-above-my-hair-i-heard


James Morrison – Undiscovered, You Give Me Something

© 2006 Polydor Ltd (UK)


Photograph II : James Morrison – Undiscovered


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Published on September 22, 2019 00:00

September 21, 2019

An old instrument

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


An old instrument


What was his name?

He did not like, the Sun.


It is an old instrument.

My body temperature adapts to fog.

All kind of fog exist. I noticed.


One familiar fog almost, does not give

an open door, to breathing.


Every element was full of fear, those years,

those days, One Love, of Bob Marley & The Wailers.


As a child, I had the simple elements,

in my hand, to study what the history was,

and what it was going to.


I liked it, to look at objects, feel it

and give it away.


No one, in the world had that same interest

in a specific way of holding on, to.


I thought, I had to do something,

for all kinds of habits, I do not have,

became one ritual in the warmth of one eye.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 22, 2019


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Photograph II : a-ha – Stay on These Roads (1988) – Stay on These Roads


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Published on September 21, 2019 22:15

My sticky coat

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


My sticky coat


During the fall in my evening,

I walked along my windows.

I saw it.


It changed, it moved.


In all my lights,

I have ever wondered

why time was gone, and came back.


Suddenly, in the evening,

my afternoon returned, completely.


Along the waters, aside my beach and shells,

he would love me.


It was written,

not a question

not an answer.


I would make sure

it would last forever, wouldn’t I.

It is not a message, it is not a gift;

it is a wonderful feeling!


Time is relative, I knew, then again,

in a blue blue sky, sheltered

by a lot of silver Crystal white eyes,

it was the best, I could give.


Someone, she had given all those dreams,

and never returned to her old white coat.


I whisper it, through the nights,

as daylight hears the twinkling in my eyes!


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 21, 2019


© 2019 Petra Hermans


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9976553-around-my-hands-my-face-and-spirit-all-leaves-of


Photograph II : My Crystal and Blue Ball


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Published on September 21, 2019 00:58

September 20, 2019

Time of ages

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


Time of ages


It was all fallen, down on earth.

The clouds did not move, anymore

and I saw all stars of silver!


I have heard that all life would

be loved, by someone like me,

but it was not quite true.

It became reality.


Some say, it would be told,

and written by an author

but a woman cannot love

her story in all ways.


I hear it all new songs,

fine and something close,

as in my hand, left not on the right,

it was an extraordinary light,


a beauty of glory, more beauty of humanity …

I say then, the child laughed.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 21, 2019


© 2019 Petra Hermans


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9975051-one-family-had-one-tree-that-was-surrounded-by-a


Loreena McKennitt – The Mask and Mirror, Cé Hé Mise le Ulaingt? /

The Two Trees,

© 1994 Quinlan Road


Photograph II : Loreena McKennitt – The Mask and Mirror


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Published on September 20, 2019 23:53

One people

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


One people


I have seen, him, talking before.

He sure knows, how to speak English,

or talk to try, it all the way!


Down, on my view, closer to Earth,

Oliver Twist seems to look like Christmas.

It is rubbish.


It was a woman.

She does not know,

how to read the library,

a dictionary or old profession.


She is not human.


One people, I do not forget in my Roads.

I thought, to see over there

a brown rabbit, rabbit-teeth

all covered by a white bag.


I am sorry, to say, it was awful.

The rabbit and white balloon

did not reach my one people.


It is a young child,

the same school I went to,

to look forward.


He makes me smile

I do not know, why.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 21, 2019


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Photograph II : My Crystal and Blue Ball


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Published on September 20, 2019 22:26

In New York City

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


In New York City


She has been dreaming,

out of her window,

out a window.


She has lost him.

He really loves, her.


It is, about a real good feeling,

all of the way.

Something, in my hands, says so.


He is dreaming

without a dream, sometimes.

It was all forgotten.


It is the twinkling in his eyes,

when he left his walk.

Some leaves in summer

on my pavement,

never reached Home.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 21, 2019


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9405135-it-is-one-cent-a-flower


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Photograph II : Michael Ende – Die unendliche Geschichte (1979)


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Published on September 20, 2019 21:48

The oldest village

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


The oldest village


The text has been meant, for Shakira and Ronaldo.

It has been said, two years, ago.


About one hour, a day, his smell is melting down

in two black holes of his pair of trousers across his woods.


They have built it, there, twice a day, the people abroad

really do appreciate your way of living life and loving animal porn.


You need it, for a holiday or two, a new idea of the first love

but a last love needs to be recognized or acknowledged.


Ivo Opstelten Foundation thanked Mohammad, three times

but not four or seven Times, a lady, a country without a land.


Old farmers do know, how to take time for their village.

I heard it, All, coming down, at the End of February, beer and steel.


Poor farmers do not see the grounds, next to the House.

Children have been sleeping in that old fairytale by their personal witch.


It is an example to people in other countries by professional exercise

while I am having my good times without a job, a husband or apple tree.


Penguins and nerds are waggling after each other.

Rats are tickling by their noses and not noused within new mushrooms.


It is a fancy tradition, I am really enthusiastic all about it, what an experience!

Those black feathers in white gloomy faces have to be deserved nowadays.


Negativity is also energy and attention in the morning and Sun of everywhere.

Articles have been written, three years before yesterday, another newspaper.


He is leaving town after she smiled her love away.

I have not been writing There.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 21, 2019


‘Zult’ graag bij de slager te Oisterwijk voor het hele gezin,

deze zaterdag. Namens Tijs van Straten, the Netherlands,

according to the Dutch bastard and his Nazi regime.


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Willem Frederik Hermans – Onder professoren, La Marche de l’Empereur (2005)

Sponsored by LBP Sight, Nieuwegein, the Netherlands, very interesting.


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9290032-ik-leerde-van-mijn-mama-niet-op-straat-te-eten


Photograph II : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


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Published on September 20, 2019 20:27

September 19, 2019

One small, shy girl

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


One small, shy girl


She turned the clock, around,

back in Time, once again; more than twice.


In her old, first class, before Kindergarten,

she looked at her friends, silently close to her desk,

where no one was at her Table.


She was always the smallest in her family,

not of her roots, somehow anywhere.


She has that classy simple style,

when all dove in her crowd,

looking for no one but the open sky!


You see, that woman, she supposed

to be a smallest girl, to revive.


But, truth is not far away …


eyes those who are hidden,

were felt alive.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 20, 2019


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9973998-above-my-hands-i-could-feel-one-colour-of-white


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Keane – Under the Iron Sea, Nothing in My Way

© 2006 Universal Island Records Ltd.


Tom Chaplin – Vocals

Tim Rice-Oxley – Piano, Bass, Backing Vocals

Richard Hughes – Drums


Photograph II : Keane – Under the Iron Sea (2006)


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Published on September 19, 2019 23:00

September 18, 2019

The softest love

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Photograph I : Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans


The softest love


I heard it, a long Time, ago.


It was a long, long day.

It would be the longest day

in the history of ancient times.


I can’t remember, how long,

it all took me, to arrive.

The Sun was so bright.


The morning was not a new morning,

I felt all over my body.

It is the same as yesterday,

and the day before, yesterday.


Pencils broke, all kind of colours,

you can’t even hear

because one point touched

the sky without actually

a moment of Time.


Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans

Europe, the Netherlands, Tilburg,

September 19, 2019


https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9970752-my-hair-of-hairs-have-become-too-long-these-days


© 2019 Petra Hermans


Hoofdstuk 1, pagina 10

“Eindelijk was hij er. Hijgend en nat van het zweet haakte hij

de boot vast aan de loopplank en hielp haar erop.

‘Tot ziens’, fluisterde hij. ‘Volgende week donderdag zoals

gewoonlijk.’

Ze antwoordde niet, maar stond stil op de steiger terwijl

haar hoofd hoog boven het riet uit torende. Na een tijdje zag

hij haar lippen bewegen. Hij begreep wat ze probeerde te zeggen:

hij is hier. Hij staat vanaf de kade naar ons te kijken.

Ze draaide zich niet om en liep met rechte rug en opgeheven hoofd

terug naar de wasvrouwen. De vrouwen waren aan het wassen

en spoelen, maar geen van hen sprak en hun bewegingen waren star,

alsof ze rechte lijnen door de lucht trokken.

Ze hebben hem ook gezien, dacht het meisje. Ze pakte de wasklopper

en begon een mantel uit te slaan, alsof ze hém sloeg, die zevenvoudig

vervloekte Schaduw.”


Hoofdstuk 56, pagina 308

“Alleen Noach en zijn zonen waren aan boord. Ze stonden

helemaal boven op het achterschip, en waren bezig de trossen

aan het drijfanker vast te maken toen ze Naema aan zagen komen

rennen.

Ze vloog, als een hinde op de vlucht voor roofdieren. Even jong

en lenig als toen we elkaar voor het eerst zagen, dacht Noach

en zijn hart werd warm, maar het moment daarop besefte hij

dat haar haast een reden moest hebben en samen met de anderen

rende hij de ladders af.

Ze ontmoetten elkaar op het benedendek en Naema zei:

‘Het is zover, Noach.’

De vier mannen verstijfden, keken naar de hemel. 

Een zwak motregentje was onderweg vanuit het Rijk van het Noorden,

een gewone voorjaarsbui.

‘Je bent er zeker van?’

Ze bleef even stil staan, hief haar gezicht naar de eerste regendruppels

en knikte.”


Marianne Fredriksson – Syndafloden

© Marianne Fredriksson, 1990

Published by agreement with Bengt Nordin Agency, Stockholm,

Sweden

© Anna Ruighaver en De Geus BV, Breda 2008

© Nic Skerten, Trevillion Images

ISBN 978 90 522 6659 6

NUR 302


Photograph II : Marianne Fredriksson – Syndafloden


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Published on September 18, 2019 20:58

The Religion of The Blue Circle

Petra Hermans
Let's talk about life.
Let's talk about love.
Let's write about religion.
And keep quiet in silent silence.

Netherlands, Tilburg
May 24, 2016

Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans
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