http://slow.writerscafe.org/Kees%20Kapteyn The original writings of author Kees Kapteyn en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776123336 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 A father hopes that his teenage daughter will accompany him in what was once their shared love of astrology to view a passing comet, but finds that things have changed between himself and the girl. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/1900124/ An excerpt from a short story I am working on http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/1612361/ Like most Canadian boys, I grew up with hockey stories to tell.  It’s inevitable.  When you grow up in Canada, hockey is part of your cultural fabric;  an undeniable fact and underlying theme you return to again and again.  I was never a player.  I can tell you without.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/1491363/ To be submitted for an anthology about Niagara Falls called 'I Eat People'. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/667562/ After hours of driving, we finally pass into Paradox, New York, so saith the sign announcing at the roadside. Nathan, my older brother looks up from his PSP and laughs at it, still not used to the name. Mum laughs too, just because she thinks it’s funny and wants t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/445901/ There’s a certain kind of breathingI have when I’m sleeping or at rest.It’s deep and complete,From soul to air.I lay naked and moulded to the mattress,The cool air of the open window touching me. There’s a kind of breathing I do.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/439575/ you might call this a counterpart to Jupiter http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/439566/ Looking up from the mirror of water,To see if the sound I hearIs an exchange of geeseOr the voices of people. On the other side of the canal,Two people are talking, walking.Their voices carry across the plane of water,Soundwaves reaching my ear. I'm surprised.Their vo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/423206/ Have you ever watched some painters while they paint- how they seem to stare down the piece as well as the subject and almost angrily take paint to the canvas. The artist throws himself mentally and physically into the act of creation. It's like that with writing too- it's an intense ordeal.Writ.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/370764/  We meet in a dark, empty and unfamiliar place, coming from different peripheries, different worlds, separate. Somehow we meet, a calibration of fate. I look outside, out windows, out doors, across the divide and see you looking back. The first connection; superficial, secular, worl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/368378/ Derived from the prostitute abductions and murders that happened in Vancouver a while back. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/366938/ NEED CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM- PLEASE REVIEW HONESTLY http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/362099/     I wake up before you do, to the tapping of the blinds on the windowsill. Air flows through the open window; invisible, insipid, scentless and yet still here.   Its presence is only in its effect.   Daylight comes in along with it, the ig.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/326297/ A cold rain comes down on Victoria Day,The annual northern rain. It touches the closed storefronts and freshly woken grassAnd the chill in the wind insults the trees still leaving. There is disappointment in this climate,The underdelivery of the weekendThat has once ag.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/267259/ An automatic poem in constant formation, from my blog of the same name. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/263597/ Incense smokeIn a cold roomAscends heavenward http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/250998/ Waiting for my teaTo steep,I crack a walnut http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/250997/ A butterfly landsOn this pageI stop writing http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/250996/ I stop talking inMid-sentenceTo draw a breath http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/250994/ Today is June the 30th, 1985.Today is the day that scientists have figured we have to subtract a single second from our clocks in order to account for an irregularity in the Earth's rotation.  They are calling it a leap second.  What is this leap second to amount to?  Is it really t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/248752/ from a crossword puzzle http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/248745/ I'm at Chris' house one starless nightAnd I pour myself a beerStraight into the middle of the glass. I watch the gas bubbles grasp onto their surface tensions,Holding onto themselves in an angry frothAs if desperate to existPiling up, gathering up, upon each other,Building up to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/248667/  Kids are stupid. Young kids especially, are stupid. Cruel and stupid. It’s that mix of cruelty and stupidity that manifests itself so profoundly on the playground.   Let me relate a story that will show you what I mean. I don’t remember what I wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/240797/                                                  &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/240025/ a snippet of what im working on- this is not the start of the novel, but a ways in. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/236453/    You're wondering what I meanWhen I say that you are beautifulI say this to give you this knowledgeAffect what I feel upon youYet it becomes lost in the empty air I look for lofty concepts in youBut you look at me with query in your eyesLight bends and mis.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/236451/   Redeeming the Old Town  The old house seems to be in a state of metastasis, its cells having failed to regenerate over the course of years, not yet a ghost but certainly dying or dead. It’s a dispirited body with peeling paint on its siding, greying wood showing from und.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/232982/ Concept: the future is ether, the past is granite, the present is liquid.The lake. Waves move in a secret rhythm. I try to take a mental snapshot of its pattern on the water and find it frustratingly elusive. I try to lock it in photographic vision and its already changed, fleeting as to elude m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/232163/  In love with you,I'm in the ambit of Jupiter.You dominate my sky.My zenith and my horizon,My lifelong pyramid of you. I drive in my car to work andHave the illusion of your following me.Like the moon, you're always full, always facing me.You have no darkside for me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/224729/ After reading a poem by Robert Luna, I remembered a song lyric I had written about 15 years ago. I dug it up and pared it down to make it more poetic. Thanks Robert! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/211438/ I dress myselfWhile you sleepCareful not to letThe rustle of clothes and the rasp of zippersPierce your silenceQuiet intimacies reverse and rewindAnd start another dayI write this poem at the foot of our bedYou moveAnd don't know that I'm here. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202344/ A couple of beersAnd tonight I can argueAt a speed at which I can articulateThoughts connect with words andWords connect to speechAnd nothing gets lost along the wayAll is calibrated in this altered stateI do not stutterThere is no blusterI can argue straight aheadNow my troubles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202342/ Sunlight stumbles in through the curtainsLike a drunken spouse returning from an adulterous absenceI roll over and bury myself in my sheets and ignore her guilty advances.Dreams envelope me in a womblike embrace,A sense like consommation,Constant holding fondness.I'm finding a box of toy.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202337/ Illness weakens something in my coreCauses a collapse, threatens my global balanceSomething in me is upsetIn my heart, the entrance to my stomachThe seat of my soulThis weakness hearkens me toCling to something fundamentalA pillar, a parent,A support column I need to look forI figh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202333/ Our groins still moist from lovemaking,We lay on the cool sheets,Naked in the white light.I am declaring myself happyImploring God to leave me this way. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202327/ I remember your scent used to be sweeter,The scent of firstsLingering on my sheets for days.I would breathe you, mix you with my blood.Now,You are the scent of your own blood,Lingering in the wastebasket,The scent of argument.I avoid and it follows me through the house,The scent of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202325/  I hold an attendance sheet in my handsWeighted with names;Surnames first,Given names last.I'm bringing these names;Absences and presences to the office.The absent are signified by the leaden scratch.Absences are recorded andAttendees are left in their state.These are li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202323/    "They say we all dream in black and white, but I dream in technocolour!" Judy is a across the booth from me, talking in caffeine spurred agitation, jabbing her cigarette towards me and painting jagged lines of smoke in the air. Her eyes burn brown at the sugar dis.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202319/  The water of the world floats in the air as a mist. It is the fog that impedes my view of the world as I drive to work, leaving a few scant feet of warning ahead. The present has to come to me immediately, in it’s own instant and I’m forced to deal with it in that moment with.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202314/ I say hello to your sweater slung on a chair,Then realize it is not you.It's a wasted greeting; my greeting your absence.It's a gift I've wasted on something that once contained you.It's a reminder that you were once here and now are not.You have that illusion of belonging because I am her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202311/    You surprise me with a giftPresented on your kneesYour touch, reaching, means supplicationYou offer to take something from me as your gift.You offer to deliver me from my tension, my surplus, my weight,A reprieve from urgency and impatience.You communicate this to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202303/ Yearwide memory,This friendship has atrophiedFrom lack of use.You held the chord on the piano,The music sustained,Rich and beautiful.You moved your touch,A barren silence followed. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202299/ Upon waking,His head is an empty vesselTo be speedily fed awareness and thoughtBefore he must leave for work.A coffee will facilitate this.The heavy ache of withdrawal is softened with acetaminophenThen a second coffee achieves a semblance of equilibrium.At work,His focus is to tread.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202296/ Individuals divideOnly under enormous pressureGeological and seismic insultsThey divide into fractionsIncomplete sentences,Lost nouns, lost predicatesLacking syntax without contextMissing in action http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202293/ Step past the curtainsInto the stream of water.Feels immediately the ecstacies of warmth on your back,Like hands, like sunlight.Anoint yourself with soap,Then from your skin,Purge every speck of dust, salt and filth,Every iniquity that you've accumulated from the world.Step out into .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202288/  The headlights of Derek’s Toyota Tercel violate the darkness outside, illuminating a curving road and harvested cornfields. The trees that we can see are skeletal, stripped of mystery with our tungsten bleach. I’m sitting in the backseat, searching for anonymous things beyond.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202283/ You cause me painThrough your pain.You react, bleed.I am not without the stain of that blood.I can be defensive,Collect it in a pailAnd throw it back at youBut that won't stop your bleeding.I can dress it in a sterile gauzeOr simply allow you to heal.I'm asking you.You allow yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202279/ Boys,I hold you in my armsAnd my father holds meAnd my grandfather holds him...Kick your legs,Twist and squirm,I'm not letting you go.These arms are stronger than the earth to lay in.You will not fall.Your father is your center of gravity.Your father is where gravity sends you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202274/ I'm not lying, darling,I'm omitting the truth.Because, sweetheartThere are things you don't need to know-Not because they are unimportant,But because they will hurt you.The pain would be irrelevantAnd it would change nothing between us.It would just hurt you.Because darling,The t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202271/  I look at you and am ignited,Aroused.Thoughts fall on a delicious memory,The lingering sense of you.My mind returns to that moment and energyRadiates through me;heat and light.You are a sovereign system inside me,like my heartbeat,like my breathing.My desire is the wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Kees-Kapteyn/202269/