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Alexandra Ekelenkamp
Netherlands
Born in 1982, Alexandra is a young poet. Being of Dutch origin, english is her second language. Her obsession for the written word started when she began to read, leading her to 1996 when she first wrote poems. She won a poetry contest, and since then she has continued to write poetry. Alexandra is stimulated by poets such as
W.M.Stoneking and Christina Conrad. She is finding her own voice - into which she is growing.

Limitations
          
          ( for Ursula Wood )

Father

you
hand guiding gaze
fixed Venus
on my retina
last night

tonight
another cloudless sky
I cannot recognize
any
constellation

stars and planets
remain
in chaos
without you:
my patient telescope

still you know not where God lives

Passport

a spaceship has no anchor
to keep it
from dreaming

travelling
is tugging
at an umbilical cord

I am always offspring
of continent
yet my sprit is a Briton

and my limbs spring from strange soil

AD

before whose time
am I alive

will I be haunting spirit
looking
over brilliant shoulders

will I copy poetry
in chimney dust

dating it          73yrs after me.




god

in the highest tower

he carves
Woman:
a soft bird

he carves me

caged
in
his room

and he
climbs
in-
to
my
head

carves himself
unto
my flesh

opens
my cage

sits waits

as
I flitter off
naked

he
fondles
my old dress



Mercury

the man is a god
striding
along the edge of sea

precisely
he places
delicte winged feet
on wet sand

around them,
dry sand-circles appear
no water dares touch him

the man is a god
a red sun
rising

in his hand
the walking stick is gold
no woman dares touch him

only pink-fingered aurora
reveals
his body in morning light



pyramid of night

          (for Christina Conrad)

the woman lives in the attic:
a tomb
underneath roof beams
she crouches
one light bulb burning

from the ceiling
pale moths dangle
the woman hangs paper cuts
for
reflecting light

in dark shadow folds
roaches tick
ant-patterns walk up walls
it is cold
it is dark
the woman sleeps
in wood splinters
water runs



Pitch

on a high peak
the solemn woman is
feathered
hair braided
leans on wind
back arched

around her hips
a girdle of air
patterned
with birds
rising falling

on a high peak
the solemn woman
with firm fingers
stitches wild roses
on bleached cotton

a songbird
1000
silver chips
thrilling on her breath



Amazon

she sleeps with two horses in her arms
2 on each milk white side

manes curling over breasts,
their breath in her neck

she sleeps with horses in her arms
4 carry her to dreams

no need for men
no room

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