I have been a very lazy boy writing. My excuse is that I have been a very busy boy living: Gay Pride in Madrid, the soccer world cup final in the plane back from Zurich, the hottest July in decades on the beach in Bloemendaal aan Zee. That's a lot of ground to cover in one blog. So instead of boring you with the details, I thought I might surprise you with a couple of sensual if not sexual poems.
Madrid is the Mecca of all gay Prides. It is huge, it is boisterous, and it is loud. There is very little politics and there is a load of parties. It is all about the body beautiful, the latest DJs, and dancing next to your favourite porn star. There is the annual arena Madrid party where 15 000 odd muscled boys dance the night away. There is the beefy parade of muscle boys at the swimming pool of Casa del Campo. There are the moments on Gan Via with hundreds of thousands of others cheering on the parade.
And then there are the moments that only you lock up in your mind and keep there in the freezer of your memory for grey and dark Northern days:
Bend over and let me taste you
Taste that salty sweat from my favourite spot
Crouch on the edge of the bed
Let me look over that soft skin that is your back
Spread you legs
As I drop my wet tongue down across your hardness
Moan softly
So that I may know you are waiting for my hard fullness
Arch you back
Up against me as I slip inside and hug me from within
Make those grunting noises
As you close the softness of yourself against me
Lick me with the sloppy velvet tongue
As I hang over you shoulder longing for even more
Jump up and take me gently
That longs for you to become one again and again
Wait a while
As my prostate makes you part of its joy
Fall into my sweaty arms
While I stare in your blue yes in our own silent peace
An on and on we play our favourite game
On and on we grow our flesh into each other
On and on the hours tick the sun up high
And on and on the doves fly in and out
And then, the late morning sunshine touches my skin
As I pack that steamy room into the freezer of my memories
Still feeling you inside my body and mind
And then there are those moments on the dance floor when you mind is spinning and your eyes cannot concentrate:
Dance far from close by
Eyes wide open look again away
Skin soft sweaty full shining
Hair softly chest full stomach down
Smile hides dimpled cheeks
Music back mind drift
Look finds around familiar faces
Touch fingers hairs close
Hands hard muscle trained
Inside rise hard bulging
Soft sport shorts buttocks firm
Mesmerized look away try not
Reach feel finger deep inside
Slide back over sweaty arms
Reach feel finger tongue inside
Dance far from close by
All the excitement of the first African Soccer World Cup is now far gone and buried in some television archive. It was quite a memorable occassion for a number of reasons: it was in my home country, all went rather smoothly, it showed the rainbow nation in a much more favourable light, the Netherlands qualified for the finals, and Spain that had never before even played in a world cup final won! There were lots of highlights, but the one I will probably remember best is when Spain beat Paraguay and qualified for the semi-finals against Germany.It was precisely at that moment that a giant TV screen on the side of one of the floats in the Madrid Gay Parade reached the spot on Gran Via where we were standing. Needless to say the joy and noise that was already at a very high level suddenly reached fever pitch.
We missed the first half of the final flying back from a cool,refreshing weekend in Zurich and Luzern:
Fly little plane fly
Unfamiliar names become familiar
Van der Vaart, Sneijders, Van Bronckhorts, Stekelenberg
Fly little plane fly
My proud rainbow nation in a Stadium
Soccer City, Durban, Cape Town, PE
Fly little plane fly
Find me parking spot let's not fight
Van Baerle, Stadhouderskade, Vondeltraat closed
Fly little plane fly
Hundreds of thousand people
Museumplein, Leidse Plein, Stadion Zuid
Fly little plane fly
Home to my flat screen high on the 5th floor
Orange shirt, vuvuzela, apricots to boot
Fly little plane fly
To that great disappointing unknown
Spain, extra time, Iniesta
Fly little plane fly
To those crowed street I know so well
Gan Via, Placa de Espanya, Placa del Sol
Fly little plane fly
As I roll my mind back
Vierwaltstattersee, Limmat, Zurichersee
Last weekend Francois and I celebrated our 5 wedding anniversary and 17th year together: 17 happy years of joy, friendship, belonging,freedom, and most important of all togetherness.
Kom hier my engel man
Ek rol jou op in my arms
Ek pak jou weg in my ewige hart
Kom hier my standvatige rots
Hier onder my arm in die donkerte van die nag
Hier langs my met die trams daar ver op Van Baerlestraat
Kom hier my somer
Smeer jou liefde op my lyf
Jou sonnige warmte op my rug
Kom hier my geduld
My binnekoms na weggewees
My stille geluk na lekker gek gewees
Kom hier my plesier
Leer my nog een keer die Rosenkavalier
Vat my nog een keer na die konsertgebou
Kom hier my vrede
Vang my as die dae kort word
Hoor my as die lug laag grys word
Kom hier my ewighied
Ewig, soos die blou berge van die Kaap
Ewig, soos die ondergaande son oor stil Tafelbaai
