On the 18th of October I had the honour of participating in Kunstbende Limburg Voorronde. The video is my performance which won me first place. This means I have to perform in my capital, Amsterdam, on the 7th of November. I wanted to perform more like the sixteen-year-old I sometimes forget I am, instead of the Second World War persona I usually perform as. But I couldn’t read poems without including where it all started, could I now?
I apologise for all the tears
The sleepless nights and broken heart
The silence and the screaming
The six feet apart
I apologise for your self hatred
The sadness that I’ve brought you
The unspoken words and held back truth
Sorry for the hell we’ve been through
Sorry for the times I didn’t hold you
Or the days I forgot to show my love
Sorry for the good memories
Or more, the lack thereof
Sorry that I forgot to care
And sorry for the days I cared too much
Sorry that I can’t feel your hug
Or your sweet touch
I’m sorry that I’m not there right now
And words will have to do
But don’t question my feelings
And the love I have for you
Inspired by the song ultimately by khai dreams
18 and 19 January 2020, while still living in the rush of being in the newspaper, I was hired to read my poems for the Echt-Susteren event. I was more than thrilled to do so and decided to show up in the right attire.
During the event I read a few of my poems, one before the mock battle and one before the amazing concert on Sunday evening. I met a lot of great people and I was very thrilled to have gotten this chance.
There aren’t many pictures from me, but I found one made by Patricia Geerling and one by a photographer for L1 (I assume Jean-Pierre Geusens). I want to thank the organization for the amazing weekend and everyone who showed up. Thanks again
On the 13th of January 2020 I had an interview with Geertjan Claessens for the newspaper known as “De Limburger”. He came to my house and we talked for about an hour on my hobby and what drove me to do what I do.
It was an experience that really made an impact on me. I didn’t know how to act in the beginning, and was really nervous. But after a few minutes I loosened up and he and I spend a good part of the interview just making some jokes and talking stress free.
After that Annemiek Mommers, the photographer, and I tried to come up with a good idea on a pose for the photograph. To be honest with you, I was more a nervous, chuckling and kind of embarrassed mess, and she pulled me through it for sure.
She took an amazing photograph in my library where I write most of the times. She’s an amazing person and a very kind soul.
Skip forward to Tuesday. I was still sleeping when my father woke me up, walking into my bedroom with a grin on his face and exclaiming: “You’re in.”
It’s quite a weird moment for one to wake up with your own face staring back at you from the newspaper you read daily. And especially since I wasn’t fully awake yet, I spend about five minutes just staring in disbelief. One of the first pages, my interview.
Let’s just say I never expected to get this far, so every new step is frightening. But its worth it.
Rainier Eggen, the DJ for Radio Parkstad and I, had a lovely talk on the 4th of December. We talked about a lot of amazing things, and he is a great guy! We shared a taste for music and I listened to some very good songs while on the show.
He is a really kind and welcoming person, so I felt straight at home there. Although I was a bit nervous, he helped me right through it. We talked about my passion and I read a poem of mine, which he really seemed to like.
We joked around a bit, but all the same it was an amazing experience. I also met two lovely ladies while just coming back rom the interview who told me they were inspired by what I do. It meant the world to me!
Once I got home, I still couldn’t fully believe it. Thousands of people had listened to me, even a few of my good friends had tuned in, some from abroad. I had never imagined this to be possibly, but trust me when I say I’m so happy that it is.
In November 2019 the same friend who wrote that beautiful song for me, helped me get on a radioshow in the Netherlands! Johan Coolen is a true sweetheart and helped me through my first ever 30 minutes fame on the radio, haha.
I read a few poems and talked about why I do what I do, etc. The topic of how my teachers responded to what I do came up, and I remembered the one history teacher I had who called me “soldier girl”. So for the show I was sometimes called “soldier girl” which stood out quite funny to me, but also very nice.
I had a blast, it was something I had never done before. As said before the entire team was amazing, I couldn’t have asked for a better moment of the day.
I’m not sure if you can see it, but during the show I was wearing a Poppy for Remembrance Day. I talked about the First World War and read a poem for all the soldiers who fought so many years ago.
Alles ist anders wie erst
Rot ist nicht nur einfach rot
Rot ist die Farbe der Menschen die ihren Streit verloren haben
Rot ist die Farbe der Kinder die nicht mehr nach Hause wiederkehren sollen
Rot ist die Farbe des Kriegs
Des Blut das ich nicht mehr von meiner Händen waschen kann
Rot wie die Sonne die mich jeden Tag weckt
Rot wie die Lippen der Frau die ich so vermisse
Rot, die Farbe des Kriegs, dem Zuhause das ich nicht mehr wieder erkenne
Rot ist meine Farbe, so wie Tausenden anderen Männer und Frauen, weil rot nicht nur einfach rot ist
A dead German soldier, killed during the German counter offensive in the Belgium-Luxembourg salient, is left behind on a street corner in Stavelot, Belgium, on January 2, 1945, as fighting moves on during the Battle of the Bulge.
Don’t ever forget that you are loved
By those right here and those above
For what you’ve said and done
By loving wife and son
And don’t you dare to brush it off
When someone says you’ve done enough
For your hard work is seen by all
And we’ll be there, when you stand or fall
You fought in wars we can’t comprehend
And I realise not all can be mend
But I will do my best for you
Because this is what my generation should do
You see, there are so many who care
And trust in them, for they’ll be there
All you need to do is ask
And although that sounds like an impossible task
We do remember all those wars
And I realise my freedom is yours
So let that never be in vain
All your love and pain
This poem is for Jose Morales, born in 1923. He is still very much alive and getting on for 97.
He served in the 5th armoured division in Europe and then continued on fighting in Korea.
He loved to be outside working, he was a true handyman. He worked as a plumber and loved his wife Josefina Morales (1922-2017) and his three sons Joe Morales, Carlos Morales and Ramiro Morales (1949-2017).
I want to thank his grandson for approaching me, Corban Adkins. He is in two of the photographs.
The book is now finally published and purchasable. When Heaven Touches Hell is a book with 40 beautiful poems accompanied by stunning photographs! The in total 75 pages high quality paper comes at a low price (shipping not included). At only 14 years old, Sara Curfs wrote a book with the most impressing poetry in a language not even hers. We are excited to share with you and everyone around the world: When Heaven Touches Hell. (Send a Message through the website to purchase the book)
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After participating in Kunstbende, I was asked to to part in AMZAF. This was of course an amazing opportunity, and thus I said yes. Even though it was quite a ride in the car, for we live in the south, I went none the less, which was a very good idea
A few days beforehand I had bought my original ANC Class A jacket, which means an officers jacket. Because this event was very near in the future, it seemed to me as a good idea to come in the entire uniform, this time more dapper then before. After having said so, I received the Pink Officers Skirt, to complete the uniform, together with the Garrison Cap in the same colour.
I had prepared a handful of poems, because I had been given three times five minutes separately. Two people didn’t make it, meaning there was another five minutes added to my collection. At the end I read four different times, each five minutes. I had brought seven poems with me, which turned out helpful for I could switch in between poems.
It was raining, which meant there were fewer people than expected. Because “Word Art” was placed in the horses’ stables, some of the ladies, the artists that is, and myself took it upon us to gather people outside who’d be willing to join us. This, luckily, succeeded, causing a very nice ambiance.
I stood there with a lot of love and respect, after I had secretly changed my clothing to my uniform, the dubbed Class A, I was given a headset, which needed some getting used to, papers in my hand, together with other writers like me. It was an amazing evening, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.