Poetry, novels, essays

Her debut poetry book De rivier als vlakte [The river as a plain] (2003) took readers by surprise in 2003. A powerful second collection De schuur in [Into the shed] (2009) was nominated for the Jo Peters Poetry Award and the J.C. Bloem Prize, and awarded the Hugues C. Pernath Prize. Vonkt [It sparks] (2017) won the 2017 Jan Campert Prize and the Awater Poetry Prize and was nominated for the 2018 VSB Poetry Prize and the 2018 Herman de Coninck Prize. 2020 saw the publication of her debut novel In het jaar van de rode os [In the year of the red ox]. Her work has been translated into English, Turkish, Lithuanian, Spanish, Italian, French and Russian.


Poetry festivals

Attendance at national and international poetry festivals:

2012 Poetry International Rotterdam, The Netherlands
2017 Nacht van de Poëzie, Utrecht, The Netherlands  
2018 European Literature Night Amsterdam, Leeuwarden, The Netherlands 
2018 Offline festival, Istanbul, Turkey
2019 Poetry Spring Festival, Vilnius, Lithuania
2019 Poets in Transylvania, Sibiu, Romania
2019 European Literature Night, Brasov, Romania
2020 International Poetry Festival of Medellin, Colombia


Fire of Creation - essay excerpt (2020)

It is my deepest wish to give everything a heart-beat and, if that is possible, hands and feet, ears and a mouth as well. I want to look at everything and acknowledge it as divine, and as originating in that same field of being. That primal field from which everything has slipped from dream, potential and flash of light into a form. That primal field is still present in us, it is a radio wave that you can tune into when your desire is both sufficiently fiery and non-existent, when the thoughts and voices in your head have been calmed down, when they have been blown away on the wind, when you have let go of your arrogance, when you can be as small as the smallest grain of sand and regal as well. You can touch and explore that field. It is an orgasmic field. It has a high vibration, full of potency.

Chair - selected poem from It Sparks (2017)

I was standing by a table and it troubled me I was so alone / when I suddenly heard a knocking sound admittedly / very soft but something was making itself heard. So subtle it was I had to kneel down, that’s when I found the chair / and I touched the wood as you might touch a tongue, I / laid my finger in a vein, all at once twilight / fell and animals were surrounding us. Now I was not much larger than a pinpoint / and inwardly drunk the chair transmitted its thoughts, somewhat / technical but followed by the sound of trees rustling / for a moment, for about three seconds I became chair. It was heavenly, heavenly / that wood in my vertebrae! The knocking in my legs, a form of life / without blood or ideas. And standing still for ever. And / uplifted. And always that function and an / inward swaying with its origin in the trees.

Free - selected poem from Into the shed (2009)

Darkness is here, avalanche, wave, cavern. For a couple of weeks I have moved to the town with the utmost / determination and now I lie here opposite a / quayside hewn out of rock on which illuminizing light falls. Beside me an animal, hardly observant, its heartbeat trembles / obscenely against me. In those short moments when I’m lucid / I wonder, am I a vital part of the river? Will it die when I escape? Is it the intention that I / escape? Are there kindred spirits there? Can I exist there and / have I been there before? All these questions make me cross – shall I sink into the depths among the Makazi plants or crawl out? Something must be done, so I stiffen my neck, spine, tongue / permeate everything in my will to escape / the blackness, I sing whenever through the tube through the breath through / the razor-sharp hooks everything so close-knit and dangerous but I sing and / slump onto the ground dangerously free.