beneath my feet, carried
by the tides. I inhale the scents of
fish and salt. Sounds of waves
kiss my ears.
The beach. Magical. Always. Everywhere. The sound of the waves, the smell of the sea and in off-season, especially close to The Hague where I grew up, the best place to clear your head. The sea air simply blows your mind clear.
Ebb and flow also remind me of the circularity of life. Endings and beginnings. New beginnings. Maybe you have noticed this newsletter has evolved this year. Into the version you have before you, now. But it does not end there. The new year will bring new waves of evolution. Twenty-twenty-two will bring a new season of my poetry podcast and will see this newsletter evolve into the magazine I want it to be. On top of all that, I will republish my two poetry collections and release a third. An exciting year ahead.
I wish you all a wonderful new year and hope that riding the wave of 2022 will bring you all that you wish for.
Something to listen to
As I am preparing to launch part 2, or the second season, of my podcast, here is one last time an episode of the first season. More than a year after the release, it’s still to the point. Chapters of part 2 will be released starting 11 January. Subscribe to this inbox magazine, or on the podcast app of your choice. Most carry The Tripple Effect.
And now that it’s almost January, here’s one last time the link to the decemberffct playlist:
Closing off, here’s the #trpplffct readings version of today’s poem. Can you hear the waves?
Thanks for reading #trpplffct | fresh poetry & friends! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
I love a good haiku, especially when it starts a wave of love for bookshops, like this one, bookshop after hours by Mike Hoffmann.
E.J. Kuhl writes beautiful poems. Like this one, Bloom. Where my poem above heavily relies on images from the sea, E.J. uses the forest as a source in this one.
You can see the waves necessary for mixing paint with pigments in this beautiful poem by Natalie Wilkinson: The Colors That Stay Locked Inside.
And just before the wave of this issue comes crashing down on you, on the crest appears this beautiful poetic gift. It’s called a micro chap. In other words, a one-page sized book of poetry inspired by the sea. Lorraine Caputo wrote the collection Escape to the Sea [scroll down after clicking link] of which Strands is my favourite. Which one do you like best?
Finally, a link with a tear. Earlier this week I learned a gifted poet friend lost his battle with COVID. His poems were cultured and strong. He published a few in the publication I ran on Medium and much more outside of it. He will be missed by the poetry community and his loved ones. Goodbye, Michael. Rest in peace. In his memory, I share his poem Cooley High.