LIT Literatuur, Taal en Kunst
Boekbesprekingen, vragen over schrijvers, je favoriete theaterstuk, de mooiste schilderijen of de beste musea. Een must voor alle liefhebbers van kunst, boeken, theater en taal.
Hallo, mevrouw Kien.
Al die willen te kaap'ren varen, moeten mannen met baarden zijn.
Hoogachtend,
Erik.
Hoogachtend,
Erik.
Hoi Erik.
Ik moet zo weg, dus het is niks persoonlijks.
Ik moet zo weg, dus het is niks persoonlijks.
The love you take is equal to the love you make.
Veel plezier, als het iets leuks is dan wel.
Al die willen te kaap'ren varen, moeten mannen met baarden zijn.
Hoogachtend,
Erik.
Hoogachtend,
Erik.
Ah, in dat geval ben ik er weerquote:Op vrijdag 3 november 2006 14:22 schreef IQM het volgende:
Jongens, Lienekien is weg! Kom maar tevoorschijn!!
Have you ever picked your feet in Poughkeepsie?
Ik vind het juist altijd wel gezellig als Lienekien er is. Net als Claudia_X en al die anderen. Een klein feestje in TTK, elke dag weer. Hihi.
High hopes and aspirations, and years, above my station
Maybe
but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
Maybe
but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
Maar of dat wederzijds is, R_ON.
Al die willen te kaap'ren varen, moeten mannen met baarden zijn.
Hoogachtend,
Erik.
Hoogachtend,
Erik.
Wat hoor ik nu? Jij hebt toch zeker geen hekel aan mij, he Erik, dat zou ik vervelend vinden.quote:Op vrijdag 3 november 2006 14:37 schreef Tha_Erik het volgende:
Maar of dat wederzijds is, R_ON.
High hopes and aspirations, and years, above my station
Maybe
but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
Maybe
but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
Ik zou niet weten waarom Claudia_X bijvoorbeeld daar een hekel aan zou hebben als ik hier ben, Erik. Ik vind het leuk als ze vertelt over Risotto enzo. Handig! Wil ik dat ook maken.
BTW: Wat is dat voor foto, K_Man. Weer eens iets anders dan architectuur, he?
BTW: Wat is dat voor foto, K_Man. Weer eens iets anders dan architectuur, he?
High hopes and aspirations, and years, above my station
Maybe
but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
Maybe
but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride
Als ik RO_N zie, denk ik aan mijn koelkast. Hoe kan het.
The love you take is equal to the love you make.
kdfh aksghasf lk fh[02eyuq fkljvbd kjb
"The world will note that the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, a military base."
Donny? Jesus! Nobody fucks witha Jesus!quote:Op vrijdag 3 november 2006 15:03 schreef k_man het volgende:
Dat is Donny die z'n bowlingbal likt.
"The world will note that the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, a military base."
Dat is die acteur dat je later denkt was hij dat ik had hem niet herkend wat goed eigenlijk.
The love you take is equal to the love you make.
Laten we er nog eentje doen.
.
.
.
"The world will note that the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, a military base."
Of deze dan;
Daddy.
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time--
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
If I've killed one man, I've killed two--
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
Daddy.
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time--
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
If I've killed one man, I've killed two--
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
"The world will note that the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, a military base."
IQM, +1.
"The world will note that the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, a military base."
Nou, ik weet geen acteur meer waarvan je denkt "Dat is die acteur dat je later denkt was hij dat ik had hem niet herkend wat goed eigenlijk".
Maar dat komt pas als ik hem gezien heb, zodat ik bij mezelf denk "Oh, dat is die acteur waarvan ik eerst niet wist dat hij het was maar nu ik hem zie herken ik hem weer".
Maar dat komt pas als ik hem gezien heb, zodat ik bij mezelf denk "Oh, dat is die acteur waarvan ik eerst niet wist dat hij het was maar nu ik hem zie herken ik hem weer".
