The Apocalypse

Four horseman stood before God’s creation 
They cursed the sky for what they’d done
These men were under no obligation 
But fought so He’d tell them they’d won 

Conquest rode towards the Lord’s men
A steady stance as he’d been taught
They didn’t know when they’d be back again
And for what, if not peace, they fought 

War cunningly outstretched his bony hand 
To congratulate the human race
He greeted them all as a long lost friend 
Bowing down with grace

The soldiers shook their head aside
Conquest nor War could make them stray
They all knew that once they died
God had in it all the final say 

Famine marched as the victor already
For he’d seen the hunger in their eyes
They all wobbled on their feet, unsteady 
Ignoring other’s pleading cries

Lastly came Death, dressed in army green
A sudden wave of sadness washed down
Most of these faces he’d already seen
And had ignored them with a frown 

He knew that what he stood for
Was something recognizable to all
It was with the heavy name he bore
He choose  which one would fall

The man were not startled as he joined in
They had all met Death once or twice
They greeted the horseman with a soft grin 
For he’d unraveled God’s lies

Background information: The four horsemen of the apocalypse are four biblical figures who appear in the Book of Revelation. They are revealed by the unsealing of the first four of the seven seals. Each of the horsemen represents a different facet of the apocalypse: conquest, war, famine, and death.
In this poem each horseman talks to a group of soldiers, trying to sway them into joining their side in what they think to be the new apocalypse: the Second World War.

Kunstbende 2020

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?

Basic Info

Hello there! My name is Sara Curfs, I’m a teenage writer who reads her poetry on the Second World War (all written by myself). I do so in the uniform of a nurse during this time period.

You can hire me to read at your events. Please message me through the email in “contact” and let me know the details! Know that I am based in the south of The Netherlands.

Here are some pictures to show what I do and how I look. They are all from the period 2019-2021

Echt-Susteren

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

De Limburger Newspaper

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.

Radio RTVP (Parkstad)

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.

Radio LRM

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.

In No Man’s Land SONG

Martin Krewinkel, a man in my re-enactment group and to be fair, a true sweetheart and a gem in every way, messaged me one day if it would be alright with me if he used one of my poems for a song.

Of course I said yes.

Time went by, and after a month or so, he messaged me again, now with the complete song of one of my poems. He loves music and loves writing and singing, yet all the same he loved my poetry and combined the two to something so sweet and heartwarming.

I listened the song for a good few days non-stop until everyone at home grew tired of me and I was forced to wear headphones, haha. None the less, it truly warms my heart and I personally really like the song, hope you all do too!

Credits go to Martin Krewinkel for the amazing song!

Here are the original poem:

There he lay,
In crimson bathing,
His lifeless eyes,
Stargazing
His useless body,
Laying still,
No more breaths,
For his lungs to fill
No more days,
Yet to come,
No more watching
The rising sun

There he sat,
With bloody hands,
Mourning,
For his fallen friends,
His lips shut,
No words to say,
No call to utter,
Or God to pray,
With anger filled,
He grabbed a gun,
And fired,
At that rising sun

And so,
Night took over day,
Yet close,
Death would always stay,
He sat silently,
In No Man’s Land,
With a message,
For Heaven to send,
Of grief, sadness,
And the beautiful dead,
A message which is nothing more,
Than sad

Der Regenbogen des Kriegs

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.

Jose Morales

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.