For the book Suriname Bekend(t) in which photographer Raul Neijhorst highlights 75 special and famous Surinamese people, I, as one of the selected people, also had to reveal a secret. Since very few people know that I sometimes write poems, I thought it would be fun to reveal that. I didn't like the idea of a standard "Roses red, violets blue" at all.
Another problem was that the poems I had written as a child for Father's Day and Mother's Day could no longer be found. My father had sent them to me when I lived in Amsterdam, but they didn't come with me when I moved to New York. So why not write a new poem, I thought, about now. Quite a challenge, because apart from A poem for My mother: Hertha , which I really had to think about, I have never published anything.
Fortunately, this subject was not so sensitive. Actually, I quite enjoyed doing it. I love New York and hope to give a bit of an idea of life here. So hereby especially for Raul Neijhorst and his wonderful project Bijzondere Surinamers, this poem. With thanks to Marjorie, Guus Pengel and Ruth San who read along and emailed their feedback.
Do you like the poem or do you write one yourself? Mail it to info appestaartje kroeshaar dot com.
As a Surinamese far from home
I feel lost, yet at home
In this vibrant city that never sleeps
Where many people awaken
From unfulfilled dreams
And takes other paths than intended
It's the undeniable relentless inspiration
The soul of the city, the driving force of a nation
Creativity seems endless, blurring every boundary
And makes a mortal take every tiny chance
With my Surinamese roots I observe and participate
My brain explodes, I fall, I get up, body and soul blossom completely
Read part one A very exciting week for Kroeshaar
Someday I hope to be able to explain it all
But there is never much to see or say about New York.
Still I dream about going back, being back in Suriname
The country where my parents, Hertha and Daisy, came together
I owe my wealth to them
To be able to embrace cultures with an open mind
For that reason alone I will never forget where I come from
That is why it remains my country, my home, for sure.
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