Friday 5 April 2024

Age, a work of art

Magaly from Poets and storytellers United invited us to write poetry or prose inspired by the following quote

Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art.” 
Stanislaw Jerzy Lec


Age, a work of Art

Youth has left me a long time ago
it is now a treasured star
in the constellation of my memories
I remember the lightness
when I travelled without baggage
when love danced as if caught in a breeze
under fluorescent lights
where butterflies got released
from boxes of illusion
My canvas contained a few colours
passionate red but also Indigo
I wasn’t aware yet of the array of hues in
which life is capable of presenting the blues
I splashed in shallow water

Age is the bed in which wonder wakes up
With age I learned to navigate 
the art of sculpturing my live
I chiseled depth and meaning 
carving a scar for every lesson learned
Sculpting wrinkles for all the work done
My pallet of colours increased
Green for learning like a leaf, to let go
Yellow for learning to shine like a light 
Purple for learning what is most important
he tāngata, it is the people
The alchemist of time created a palette
to paint my life the way I imagined
as a creative adventure
as a work of art
Marja Blom

Friday 22 March 2024

In memoriam

 In memoriam card

My mum past away 2 years ago. It was Covid time and I was not able to go back to the Netherlands to say goodbye as the country was locked. That was quite hard. My mum was not the general mum. When I was young most were stay at home mums. My mum worked 6 days a week in our shop and had 4 children. So you can imagen that she couldn't really dedicate herself to us. She did the best she could with what she had. We always had a good Christmas and we went on holiday together. She was the one who always kept the family together. Later on she tried to make up for lost time. The following poem I wrote for her memoriam card.

My mum and her 4 children

In Memoriam

Clouds drift along the horizon
We wander restlessly.
a beacon has disappeared
You who showed us the way
You who brought us home
You who gave the word family power
like the sea pushes the waves
like the sky carries the birds
The water is calm now
The power has sunk
in the depth of the sea
The birds do not fly today
The air is empty without you
and filled with our tears
The sweat breath of the wind
still whispers your words
Music of a bygone era
Words that will be re-used as seeds
to grow and flourish in us
to fill the void
just like the reflection of your light
and the echo of your smile
the gift you gave when
someone brought you flowers
or when we rejoiced you
with our presence
Now there is only the rhythm of rest
in which you have descended forever

Friday 1 March 2024


Rommy from Poets and Storytellers United, asked us to write poetry or prose about someone who made an impression on you as a child.

I don't have any memories of people who made an impression on me when I was a child. I can remember many after that. They had all one thing in common: kindness


Many special people added
colour and music to the ordinary
essence of my life and turned it
into moments of magic

This shines through in
the way the song of the bus sounds
since the bus driver made me smile
under the closing curtains of clouds

This shines through in
the purple and pink hues of my spirit
after a teacher praised the fruit of my perseverance
Many promises popped up on my path

This shines through in
the way a room lights up like a wood fire
after a doctor gave me attention and care
I nestled myself in the warmth of his words

This shines through in
the way the wind makes the leaves spin
after a musician spurred me on to dance
I peeled the skin of the fruit of life and tasted joy

Spread your feathered wings of kindness
Be the hands and hearts that heal
Change the world one smile at the time
It will be the dew on the flowers of your life

Marja Blom

Friday 16 February 2024

Souring secrets

Rosemary from Poets and storytellers United asked us to write about telling secrets.  I used to have many. They were the secrets of my mind. But I can say I can't think of any secrets I still have.

Soaring secrets

Secrets were dropped in the drawer of my mind
I couldn’t trust them to the birds of the world
who wanted to eat and spit out these seeds of my soul
In a dark and confined space they were safe

But these secrets longed for freedom
so what a treasure it was to drop my mask
to let out the parts that belong to me but not
to society as these parts were regarded bad or mad

Now I am older I release them every day
I pour my heart out, shout, dance and sound out
that I belong more and soar on a dozen wings
so dance with me and be the beauty and the beast

Marja Blom

Friday 9 February 2024

My camera

Rommy from Poets and storytellers United asked us to write about your favorite modern convenience or invention

I love my computer but the most I love my camera Doesn't matter if its the camera on my phone or my other camera. I love taking pictures

My camera

My camera is holding its breath
while a blank canvas invites me
to scan the horizon for beauty
This equipment taught me to see
Impressions woven with strings of light
Raindrops clinging to a cobweb
the sun setting the sky alight at night
or stolen glances on shadowy streets
Poetry of images to be etched in pixels
Moments analysed and immortalised
I push the button and create memory 
on the magic carpet of time
sculptured in colours
A disclosure of a depth of feeling
A signature of a shutterbug

Friday 2 February 2024

A Silver Lining

Magaly from Poets and Story tellers United invited us to write poetry or prose that includes a silver lining, or an advantage that comes from a difficult or unpleasant situation.

A Silver Lining 

You have been fighting for someone or something
your body covered in blood, in dust, in tears
You look at your scars and suddenly you see
symbols of courage, competence and wisdom

You know that when you are ready to leave
dark cave of suffering, you feel like holding people
in a soft embrace, as they know what you know
They embrace your softness as they feel what you feel

This is the silver lining and when the sun breaks the ice
a mirror appears, reflecting who we are
The ripples of others bring a glimmer of light
as we wade through the mud and sing our songs

Our laughter charms the skies above us
Our pain dissolves in the space between us
It fills with love, the pearl in our shell of truth
A place where we learn to march together 

as one

Marja Blom