Mystics of Brussels – K.B

Mystics of Brussels



As the city
Is slowing

I can feel
It’s rythm,
It’s heartbeat.

It is slowly
The agitation
Is dissipating

Maybe because
It’s christmas
For everyone.

No more work,
The tiredness
Is falling
On the shoulders,

I feel the ice
Trying to get
At me,

Slow me down
As well.

My city
Is falling
Asleep ;

Too much
And alcohol.

My city
Is entering

The atmosphere
Is weird,
I Can’t feel
The dynamic
Vibe anymore.

The city,
The neighboorhoods,
They have a spirit.

The city is falling
Asleep like a giant,
The kind of bad
And heavy sleep
Full of nightmares,

Taking me away with her
Coz I’m connected.

I was born here
And lived my whole
Life here,
Hence killing
My individual
Freedom ;

Reflexes too;

Not at ease
To adapt fast
And think

The senses
Of the city
Are overtaking


Even the sky
Is about to fall
With the heavy

The early darkness,
The sticking air
Mingling carbon
And water…

…The cold that
Lowers the fog
Near to the ground…

It is the « Flat land »
« Mijn platte land »
In Dutch,

Hence the importance
Of being different,
But not indifferent.

Streets are empty,
As if the medieval
Plague is back….



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