Bøger af Niet van der Zand

A walk through the beauty of our couples mid-life crisis: Caught up in love, as securely as if tangled in the thicket, all overgrown with nettles and weeds; caught up in a copse, a wrap of brambles and thorns. Caught up as demurely, as on that day, when an artificial scent, combined with the heavenly fragrant, well-meant, fresh notes of the Sark Island sea-view meadows.

Niet van der Zand's is travelling, he is visiting the European cities, not on a grand tour but, rather because his work, and his female liaisons provide the opportunities to do so. It is a time for sexual freedom, yet it is also a time for inner doubt. It is time for beauty, for lust, for love, for erotic over-indulgence all to take a bow. It is also time for psychological explorations and philosophical questions and explanations.

Permissions 1: Request I have attached a manuscript for something I have been working on. I hope you don't mind me sending it to you but I thought that you ought to see it before I go any further. It is called Endless Days. I won't say anymore for now.

One woman, plus four women, fill the life of this English Businessman / Engineer / Philosopher / Psychotherapist domiciled in Vienna. His work sees him travelling throughout Europe. He is searching for some sort of settlement, yet he knows not what that settlement will consist of.

Through the desert, to see the land art, then onto the 'most secret cabin' for the silent ten-day meditation retreat. His muse moves from an external muse to a character in the story; she moves him out of his comfort zone, which suggests he may have to start life all over again, c'est la vie.

Routine psychological wisdom following a relationship break-up is to try to forget, to avoid all that resurfaces memories of the lost partner.Opposition to that is to celebrate the relationship in as many ways as possible, to make positive from all that comes along.In a factual fictionalisation, Niet works through a real-life relationship break-up to show how love always lives on.

Niet van der Zand's story begins in Vienna. He is a succesful businessman who meets a series of women which he begins a liaison with. In fact he falls in love with at least four of them. He is interested in Philosophy, Psychology, Sociology and The Arts. He hopes to use these to untangle the web, but as yet he continues to weave that web.

I am at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, making a few minor corrections; spelling, punctuation, and the like, nothing substantial. Earlier on I had listened to the Yorkshire poet, David Whyte, talking about Pilgrimage. A particular Open University Summer School: An Introduction to Psychology, took place in 1988, on the Campus of Sussex University, which is not far from Brighton, in England. The Yorkshire, born and bred, almost-alpha-male of this story was finishing his Degree that year; he had moved away from engineering, into management; he had dropped upon this sort of quasi-related subject, which rather took his fancy. He prepared himself for the course by buying The Eric Gregory Anthology of Young Poets, to carry around on campus, in case he was lost for words, among people who he considered would be quite different, from his normal acquaintances. A young woman, sitting with her friends on the steps outside the classroom, asked the Yorkshireman, and his new-found Welsh friend: "Christopher could we join you for the next lecture, you seem to know what you are doing". Later on in the week, after a mysterious disappearing trip to London, the young woman asked the Yorkshireman if he would like to dance. Actually she said: "Put down your drink why don't you" as she pulled him onto the dance floor, for the first Line Dance of his life. The rest, as they say, is history; history, and fiction

Poems gathered from here, there, and everywhere; especially those places where they maybe should never have been in the first place. An ongoing compendium of poetry, sorted by happenstance into collections each of around one hundred poems. Works pulled together from several decades of writing; they share a lineage, and mostly, but not always, they are written with one person in mind. These are poems driven by lust and by love, driven by being close, and driven by being far away. These are poems of waiting and longing, or perhaps poems of longing and waiting. There may be angst, but there isn't meant to be, the aches and the pains have subsided; the therapy of the writing has proven to be sufficient. There is some chronology at play, yet the poems are not strictly in chronological order, for it was some time before I had the thoughts of the loaded Dillinger Presently the fourth edition is in a live state, and only today another poem escaped from my mind, as I stood poised, behind the ironing board. Will there be an end to this muse, will there be an end to this writing, will there be a reconciliation, or will the poems remain as ever, unrequited.

Do you remember your first boyfriend, or your first girlfriend. What would you ask them now. Do you remember the first time that you thought about your own creativity. What questions would you ask about yourself now. Join in with the writer, as he goes through the story of his life, with his four lovers, on his journey of internal, and external discovery.

More poems, gathered from here, there, everywhere; especially those places where they maybe should never have been in the first place.An ongoing compendium of poetry, sorted by happenstance into collections each of around one hundred poems; they do share a lineage, mostly, but not always, they are written with one person in mind.These are poems driven by lust, by love, by being close, by being far away; they are poems of waiting and longing, or perhaps poems of longing and waiting; there may be angst, but there isn't meant to be, the aches, the pains, they have subsided; the therapy of the writing has proven to be sufficient.There is some chronology at play, yet the poems are not strictly in chronological order, for it was some time before I had the thoughts of the loaded Dillinger; presently the third and fourth editions are in development, only today another poem escaped from my mind, as I sat waiting for the car to have its MOT.Will there be an end to this muse, will there be an end to this writing, will there be a reconciliation, or will the poems remain as ever, unrequited.

Poems gathered from here, there, and everywhere; especially those places where they maybe should never have been in the first place. An ongoing compendium of poetry, sorted by happenstance into collections each of around one hundred poems. Works pulled together from several decades of writing; they share a lineage, and mostly, but not always, they are written with one person in mind. These are poems driven by lust and by love, driven by being close, and driven by being far away. These are poems of waiting and longing, or perhaps poems of longing and waiting. There may be angst, but there isn't meant to be, the aches and the pains have subsided; the therapy of the writing has proven to be sufficient. There is some chronology at play, yet the poems are not strictly in chronological order, for we met some good while before I was able to rest my hand on her firm tummy. Presently the fourth edition is in a live state, and only today another poem escaped from my mind, as I stood poised, behind the ironing board. Will there be an end to this muse, will there be an end to this writing, will there be a reconciliation, or will the poems remain as ever, unrequited.

What do I have to say about these poems?That they are a collection, yes, yet a collection of poems all first formed from September 2020 onwards. That is written in the Fabriano A5 Turquoise notebook, bought in Hexham, during our short vacation in Northumbria; Andrew J. S. Graham runs a fine stationary shop called penfax, he also has an online presence selling many of the good things from his writer's dream shop.I am writing the introduction before the poems have really got going, so I shall pause now and return when the poetry is nearing completion.I am almost at the backend of the poems, time to reflect then on the question which I posed at the top o the page. It is clear to me that much is made of how our early life shapes up how we develop as living and loving human beings. I fall into that tranche of fine folk who are happy to put their shortcomings fairly and squarely at the foot of their parents traits, as well as their own subsequent upbringing. I do believe these poems declare my equanimity for the equal balance of innate and learned behaviours, which in turn lead to the particular way of reviewing one persons personal poetry world

The fourth Novella follows the trail of love, lust, work and meditation; from the retreat, to the boardroom, to the bedroom.

Musings, mostly written at leisure, mostly contemplating, using the combined muses of nostalgia, lust and love.