Hobbies - Poetry - BitterSweet1
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    You lay on your back.
    You have not been created yet.

    He looked at the sky,
    He needed a color for them,
    He needed colors for the sea, the sun, the clouds.
    The colors have not been invented yet.

    He took his brush,
    Dipped it in your eyes,
    And softly started painting skies in long blue strokes,
    And skilfully coating grief with dark, deep, rumbling blue tones,
    And endless horizon with vibrating bluish fading haze,
    Dipped it again,
    And mixed the oozing paint in the sea waves,
    Dipped it in your tear,
    And the waves’ crest started rolling in a roaring procession of foaming thunder,
    Mixed the blue of the eyes,
    And the red of the lips,
    And the pink of the breasts,
    And painted the dawn, and the sunset, and the northern lights, and the love,
    Picked the spark off the eye’s tear,
    And the flash off the lip’s moisture,
    And the glint off the breast’s sweat,
    And in one magical sweep sprayed it over the no color night skies
    For the millions and millions of stars waiting to be born off his artist’s touch,
    Dipped it in your soft breath,
    And painted the breeze,
    And the wind,
    And the hurricane...

    Dipped it in my unborn dream,
    And painted you.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...




    Like the red of blood,
    Like the might of flood,
    Like the scream for life of the bursting bud...


    When queen earth’s entrails
    Liquid fire jails
    And in bursts of hell blinding sunshine hails...


    Like a typhoon’s eye,
    Like an angel’s sigh,
    Like a virgin’s pain in that love’s first cry...

    Like the sea reflecting the skies.
    Like the skies reflecting your eyes.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    I was five.
    You were a small baby of four and a half.
    I loved you terribly even though you were a girl.
    On your birthday my ma gave me a book for you.
    I knew you didn’t want a book so I brought you my brand new old stamps collection.
    One stamp from Brazil with only one corner missing.
    But you wanted a doll and you started screaming and bit my arm.
              I will never forget your braces.
              I will forever love you always.

    I was ten.
    You were an old maid of twelve.
    But I loved you quite much even though you had a brother and he was a criminal and he smoke a lot and very much also.
    One day there was a parade and I saw you there.
    I came close behind you and started pulling your skirt up to see your panties.
    A friend told me girls wear panties and I wanted to check if he really knew.
    But you saw me and you started screaming and your brother hit me on the head with his left shoe.
              I will never forget your pink panties.
              True love will always never die.

    I was seventeen.
    You were a whore and I didn’t know your age.
    I didn’t love you at all but I was curious to see how real men do it with real women.
    I told my mother that I was going to the movies.
    I came in front of you and I started squeezing your big tits with both hands.
    I wanted to see if you will scream with pleasure.
    But you started screaming that first you want to see my money and then your boyfriend came and broke my nose.
              I want to forget.
              No money no love.

    I was twenty.
    You were a devastating beauty of seventeen.
    I loved you since you were thirteen.
    I took your hand and you did not put your head on my shoulder.
    Then I turned your head to me raised your chin and touched your lips.
    I closed my eyes.
    But you didn’t close your eyes and you walked away and you broke my heart.
              I will never forget.
              I will always love you.

    I was thirty two.
    You were a beautiful woman of twenty eight.
    I loved you madly since we married.
    You gave me three wonderful kids and I didn’t know.
    One day I drove through the city on my way to a small jewellery shop.
    I planned to buy you a ruby ring.
    But then I saw you in his arms and it smashed my dream.
              I want to forget yet I can’t.
              I want to hate yet I can’t.

    I was fifty five.
    I didn’t know you were fifty two when I read your first mail.
    By the twentieth mail I was a teenager in love with an anonymous acronym.
    I dared one day.
    I asked your name and I turned off the screen.
    Then I turned it on again.
    But you were not there anymore and your address was cancelled and my life was empty.
              I have one cyber love to forget.
              I have thousands of words to remember.

    I am eighty four.
    You are long gone.
    I loved you in many ways.
    I found you in many shapes and colors.
    Holding you touching you losing you.
    I had the paradise.
    But I remember only the hell.
              I loved you all my life.
              I don’t have much time left to forget.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    The wind was soft, the sky was low,
    Upon the lake a silver glow,
    A bluish dusk, a rusty hull,
    A tree, a hill, a sleeping gull,
    An empty road from here to there,
    An empty beach from when to where,
    And waves in endless chasing roar
    Of brothers lost on sandy shore.

    You sat, your back against the tree,
    Your eyelids closed, your spirit free,
    A dreamy smile across your face,
    A woman’s love and teenage grace,
    A newborn sweet and innocent,
    Your nostrils flairing summer scent,
    Soft golden hair of flow no end,
    Your rosy lips a flowers blend.

    An engine stops. A shiver runs
    From neck to toe and back. At once
    The heart is thumping with the sound
    Of thousand hammers’ mighty pound,
    Your hand you raise, your little fist
    The sand is crushing to a mist,
    While solid hands your body grab,
    Your soul to rip, your heart to stab.

    With flaming cheeks on lust stained face,
    With tearing silk and ripping lace,
    With sweat-rich rivers pouring down,
    With muted groans that thunder drown,
    With nails encrusted deep in chest,
    With arching back and offered breast,
    With bloodied lips gasping for breath,
    When bodies join the spasm of death...

    An engine starts. A parting growl,
    And silence calms the darkness’ scowl,
    The heartbeat cools, the fever wanes,
    The blood its riverbed regains,
    The heaving chest at last at peace,
    No burning lungs, no strangled hiss...
    Then eyelids flutter, sunshine burns,
    The agony of life returns.

    You stand. So small. So slim of shape,
    So big the wound, its mouth agape,
    Your bleeding soul, the searing fire...
    Yet... then you smile, oh, sweet desire,
    Go tell it wide, go ring the bell,
    It is my heaven, it’s my hell,
    Your fist you shake with fragile might,
    Again I’ll live. Again. Tonight.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    I saw a little girl,
    Legs dangling over the water,
    Sitting on the pier, eyes closed,
    Letting the soft autumn sun warm her small face,
    Her skirt pulled up to mid thigh,
    Leaning back on stretched hands,
    Her long hair flowing down to the humid planks,
    Her shirt’s top button open letting in a glimpse of the beginning of a soft, round, small breast.
    I looked in closer,
    Joining the hundreds of shrieking diving gulls,
    All intent on trying to penetrate with their sharp eyes the thin shirt fabric,
    The transparent eyelids,
    The mist surrounding her thoughts...

    She didn’t see me,
    She could not, I was not there,
    I floated around her,
    Inhaled inside her lungs in long, slow, gentle motions,
    Exhaled through her small trembling nostrils in a flow of perfumed mist,
    Moving along the sharp thigh line,
    Imagining what lies at the end of the perilous journey,
    Diffusing myself through the shirt’s stretched thread mesh,
    Through the lace intricacies,
    Reaching the soft skin, listening to the low sound of left side thunder,
    Crawling unfelt round the smooth, proud, dormant femininity,
    Uplifted further on by the sea sharp salty smell to her listening ears,
    Trying to hum unheard of notes straight into her mind’s sense,
    Trying to draw pictures on the inside of her eyelids,
    Pictures of pink, and of blue, and of red, and of stars,
    and of upside down rainbows...
    And of dreams...

    She didn’t see me,
    I rushed my waves at the wooden pillars,
    Hitting them hard with a screeching rumble,
    Trying to break, to smash them,
    To drag them out and away and catch in my blue arms the falling child,
    The little dreaming woman,
    Washing away her sorrows,
    Melting away her salty tears in my immense salty liquid desert,
    Tasting them,
    Their pure transparent clarity,
    Their perfect shape,
    Their sizzling burning trace,
    Letting my undisturbed shapeless form penetrate with unasked for familiarity her most secret corners,
    Her most secret secrets,
    Her most intimate thoughts,
    Shaping the blue bed of our undeclared union,
    Our unknown past, unknown future, unknown tomorrow...

    She didn’t see me,
    While I was trying to warm her face,
    While trying to let the fire spread in her motionless hair,
    Sending whistling bullets into the raging wave crests ricocheting into the shadows underneath her palms,
    Wishing to let her hear me cry her unknown name,
    Through my mouth of fire, of rays, of light,
    Through my non existing voice,
    Bathing her in my dawn, in my dusk, in my candle glow,
    Reaching for her...
    She didn’t see me,
    Hundreds of years,
    Time, timeless,
    All the nevers and none of the evers...

    Keeper of the time,
    Master of the rhyme,
    Kill my ever’s breath,
    Void my never’s death,
    Mould me in the bone,
    Grant me grief and groan,
    Just one moment long
    Off my wishes throng
    Let me touch the skin,
    Let me taste the sin,
    Let me look the eye,
    Let me ask the why,
    Let me smell the breath,
    Let me kiss... and death
    May my heart invest,
    At my lover’s breast...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Words Unborn...

    I asked you – do you love me?
    You said – of course I don’t,
    I asked you – will you kiss me?
    You said – of course I won’t,
    I asked you – will you carry
    My ring till end of day?...
    You said – please touch my heartbeat
    And listen to my say...

    When love you ask – is what you mean
    Will I trade sanctity with sin,
    Will I accept my angel white
    To stain with one and single night,
    Will I embrace hell’s thousand mile
    For just a fleeting shade of smile?...

    When kiss you ask – is what you say
    Is burning coal paving my way,
    Is boiling blood attempt to part
    In tortured lands my caved-in heart,
    Is leaping light from soul to lip
    My mangled soul venture to strip?...

    When ring you ask – is what you try
    To lock me in your patch of sky,
    To tie my finger to your chain,
    And pray me never free again,
    To weld my heart, to blind my eye,
    For ever after, you and I?...

    Oh naïve man, this all you can
    My feel for you in word of man
    To rhyme? Your ear then, close by me
    Approach, and leave through my eye see
    The unborn words make shape and form,
    The quiet depth through heart of storm,
    The feel of soul, the touch of mind,
    The sound of deaf, the sight of blind,
    The never fore, the ever aft,
    The steely soft of tender craft,
    The words that never will abound
    A love as mine to dress in sound,
    The sense that ever will decline
    To guess and taste the kiss of mine,
    The never was, the endless end,
    Your ring and I, through God’s smile blend...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Winter Legend...

    When the sun winds are ruffling the naked tree branches,
    Chasing the last falling leaves on their spiraling dance down to a yellow rustling tomb,
    Stinging with cold yellow arrows the dead eyes of the sleeping ground hog burrows,
    When the grey sky hounds chase each other,
    Howling their anger in thunderous snapping barks and blinding flashes off electrified fangs,
    Shaking earth’s rugged skin into a convulsion of raging air migration,
    When the dead quiet of the birds-deserted forest oasis
    Deafens the inner ears of poets in desperate search of inspiration flakes
    While rummaging through untold stories of life’s cruel torments...
    I curl on the wet smoldering foliage,
    Yellow, striped green, dyed peeling brown,
    Hugging sweet bitter smells of decaying life to my chest,
    Thousands of small waterfalls pouring spiky ice fingers from the sky,
    Absorbed in my engulfing dementia, locked in the absolute quiet of my heart,
    Killing dead words into living incandescent sentences...

    Ululating fear and pain,
    Over frozen endless plain,
    Yellow eyes in darkness glint,
    Ebony spits sparks of flint,
    Valiance through night aflow
    Out of hidden depths aglow,
    Living sounds with darkness merge
    In the wake of magic surge,
    Pulling me with force unseen,
    To the land of never been...

    Winter flowers,
    So many of them on the frozen window pane,
    Hundreds, thousands,
    Long and sharp, short and round, thin and brittle,
    My eyes scanning the lines, the curves, the valleys, tasting the imaginary cold springs,
    Scanning, searching, looking for...
    There you are, the one and only winter flower,
    The one and only flower,
    Sparkling, dressed in the multi colored reflected sparks of the wavery candle light,
    Your corners so fine, so thin, so intricate,
    A master spider’s sculpted web thread in the kingdom of ice,
    Your perfection witness to witchcraft’s unguessed untold secrets of creation,
    Your heart gentle, timid,
    Your eyes covered by translucent eyelashes uncovering lakes of blue frozen into virginal white,
    Your fingers thin needles scratching at the thin frozen layer jailing them into immobility,
    Your skin white, white, white...

    You look up, eyes sleepy, dreamy, a baby awakening to life, to world, to undiscovered warmth,
    You smile at me,
    Your heart throbbing,
    Passionate, pumping molten ice through the iceberg seas of your awakening senses,
    Cold, frozen, flowing white blood through white walled channels in a white colored landscape,
    Stars hanging at the ends of your fingertips,
    Soundless words escaping your pale white lips, trying to reach my ears,
    Your pain, your joy,
    Your call for desire trying to escape the unforgiving frigid clutches of reality,
    I don’t hear you, I want to hear you, I scream for want of hearing you,
    I approach you, I listen, I think to start hearing the notes, the rhymes, the tinkle...

    And I hear the tinkle...
    And I see the twinkle,
    And I watch you cringe,
    And the thaw of fringe,
    And the mute despair,
    And the dimming stare,
    And the blue of eyes
    For a second cries,
    And my warmth of breath
    Is your bed of death...

    Oh, no, I hold my breath, I pull back... too late,
    The beautiful winter flower turns into a silvery drop,
    Pulling in its wings, and its transparent mane, and its reaching arms,
    Sliding slowly along the pane, leaving a diamond sparkle thread behind it,
    I reach out desperately, my finger blocking its path,
    Collecting it,
    Shivering with fear placing it at the corner of my eye,
    My tear drop,
    Frozen there, forever,
    Her heart throbbing no more,
    Her mouth smiling no more,
    Her voice, singing no more.

    When the sun winds ruffle the budding tree branches,
    When the grey sky hounds change into white puffs,
    When the forest starts singing with the awakening chorus of thundering violins,
    I lie curled under the drying rotten foliage,
    Hugging dead dreams to my chest,
    My heart dead,
    My mind dead,
    And only at the corner of my unseeing eye, the glitter of one single forgotten frozen teardrop.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Today, Today I Saw You For The First Time...

    She could fly,
    My God, could she fly?...
    Spreading wide those alabaster tipped snow-white wings,
    A few powerful flaps,
    And she was soaring into the clouds,
    Into the stars, into the sun,
    Chasing comets across the galaxy,
    Sneaking into their tails and carpeting the night skies with a shower of raining fire,
    Chasing angels in and out their kingdom,
    Playing hide and seek around the forests of heaven and the fires of hell,
    Showering the world with fiery sparks in kids’ sparkling eyes...

    She could smile,
    My God, could she smile?...
    Opening wide those teardrop tipped topaz blue eyes,
    A few childish grimaces,
    And the smile was thunder rolling through the oceans,
    Through the forests, through the beasts,
    Seeding words in rhyming flower beds,
    Sniffing fragrances and breathing storms of inebriating verses,
    Seeding glory in awakening mornings,
    Flashing a symphony of white teeth through open gates of devastating crimson,
    Painting laughter in the world’s day, in the world’s life, in the world’s pain...

    She could love,
    My God... my God... could she love?...
    Ripping wide open this fire-tipped deep-red heart of hers,
    A few flaps, a few smiles,
    And the flames started pouring,
    Gushing, cascading,
    Sweeping in a blazing torrent the pain into hope,
    The death into rebirth,
    Sweeping dams into nothingness and fortresses into dust,
    Breaking arrows in flight and feeding lovers God’s secret passion potion,
    Changing newborn’s first scream into a smile while world’s gates slowly open to life...

    My God, she could fly,
    My God, she could smile,
    My God, oh, my God, she could love...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    I am the master.
    I am the creator.
    I am the artist.

    With a trace of my pen,
    With one sentence, with a single word, with a thought –
    I build and destroy,
    Create and annihilate,
    Raise worlds from burning ashes,
    Smash stars to howling dust,
    Raise the dead and kill the living,
    Pour pain into heroes and let evil win,
    Or let evil die,
    Kiss life into fairies,
    Let fairies smile, let fairies fade,
    Let fairies lose their untouchable spell
    And enhance human magic...

    At my scribbled bugle call
    Ruthless armies raise and fall,
    Kings to hell at whim I send
    With my pencil’s sharpened end,
    Flowers bloom and seasons die,
    Dragons thunder, horses fly,
    Love I rhyme in lovers’ heart,
    Lovers bleed... and lovers part...

    Did I create you?
    Am I the master, the creator, the artist?
    I look at my pen’s end – it is blunt,
    Did I create you and then broke my tool of trade to not be able to change you?
    Or was it blunt already and you were real and the rest is my mind’s abuse of my spirit?

    Flowing ink invades the lines,
    Killing shards of hesitation stretched across my crumbling mines,
    Groping fingers strain for truth,
    As the words join into patterns necklaced round of riddle’s root,
    Senses fight a soundless war,
    Tendons stretch in steely struggle growling loud in muted roar,
    Patterns shape in crystal reason,
    Holding back while sudden quiet conquers spirit’s every season
    As an answer shyly reels...
    Yawing slightly, softly landing round my mind’s demolished hills...

    You existed. You were written.
    My pen touched you,
    And the ink started flowing into the pen, foaming, rumbling,
    Creating my arm,
    Creating my heart, drawing my veins, my body,
    Dyeing my soul with flashes of your thoughts,
    Mixing my dreams with flavors of your passions,
    Creating my self,
    Creating me.

    You are the creator.
    And you said – Be!

    And I am.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The Oath...

    I mentioned “forever?...”
    You said “... and a day...”,
    I asked “will you ever?...”
    You answered “...no way...”,
    I whispered “if never...”
    You smiled “...stop your say,
    Forever, or ever, or never, or else,
    The magic of letters embroidered with spells...”

    I ventured “for all day?...”
    You sighed “...hushaby...”,
    I tried “and if your way?...”
    You hushed me “...don’t cry...”,
    I muttered “with me stay...”
    You murmured “... good bye,
    Good bye to forever and never, and else,
    To dreams, and to magic, and wonders, and spells...”

    I listened to words bleeding paintings sublime,
    The question unspoken and hidden in rhyme,
    Imploring the knowledge of not having asked,
    The hurt of surrender so skillfully masked,
    The pride, and the pain, and the sacrifice hell...
    The smile of the sea on a summer day’s spell...
    I listened to words, and I suddenly smiled,
    I reached in my chest, to the wondering child
    My heart in a fist with no shadow of wroth
    I offered and whispered my life’s binding oath...
    “Forever, and ever, and ever, and else,
    To dreams, and to magic, and wonders, and spells...”

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Watching you sleep,
    in the deep ripe rich yellow wheat field of your hair,
    in the deep quiet hidden blue mountain lakes of your eyes,
    in the deep relaxed smiling white pearls necklace of your teeth...

    Watching you wake up,
    in the incessant butterfly soft flutter of your raising eyelids,
    in the incessant puppy lazy yawn of your grimacing face,
    in the incessant feline smooth arch of your stretching body...

    Watching you dress,
    hesitating endlessly between the silken underwear colors,
    hesitating contemplatively among the fingernail polish bottles,
    hesitating passionately amidst the inebriating pervading fragrances...

    Watching you make love. To me.
    scratching skin slices off my muscles like a demented tigress in heat,
    licking my bleeding wounds like a growling protecting mother bitch,
    undulating round my body like a shapeless slithering smothering snake...

    Watching you sleep. After.
    the shallow glens under your eyes drying saline streaks of tear leftovers,
    the pale field of your skin shaking off deeply entrenched drops of sweat showers,
    the hidden corner of your mouth refusing to part with a single last shapeless blood drop...


    I open my eyes.
    Waiting for them to close again.
    And then to watch you. Again.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The Flower...

    Flower names I couldn’t know,
    Roving world’s exclusive gardens from horizon east to west,
    Scavenging majestic jungles reaching up to eagle’s nest,
    Horses hundreds, wheels a thousand, in a never ending quest,
    Flower names I couldn’t know,
    But for one I never saw...

    Flower names I couldn’t find,
    Timeless books of brittle pages falling prey to searching craves
    Hind of screeching, rusty iron guarding ancient churchyard graves,
    Libraries of long forgotten rotting down of cobwebbed caves,
    Flower names I couldn’t find,
    But for one deep in my mind...

    Flower names I couldn’t seam,
    Shades of colors splitting sunshine to an endless flowing song,
    Waves of petals running rivers into ribbons boundless long,
    Blinding gems adorning meadows matching stardust armies strong,
    Flower names I couldn’t seam,
    But for one, my haunting dream...

    Flower names I couldn’t teach,
    Way beyond of seven oceans, deep in nowhere’s virgin lands,
    Through of mighty desert kingdoms ruled by nothing’s howling sands
    Where a guarding, wrinkled giant, at the no-one’s crossroad stands,
    Flower names I couldn’t teach,
    But for one without my reach...

    Single flower odd of name,
    Weaving dreams in horses mane,
    Rushing whispers through my mind,
    Painting hues through visions blind,
    Out of mortal’s deadly reach,
    Far on magic’s lonely beach,

    Pollen none, but living rays
    Pour from stem’s enfolding blaze,
    Colors none, but dreams of life
    Stream from petals passion rife,
    Fragrance none, but smile-rich whiffs
    Lavish shy, forbidden if’s...

    Through my window, out I gaze
    At the specks of moonlight silver sprayed by master forger’s hand,
    There, astride a golden cobweb plaited miles of crystal band
    Shines a key, its twinkling sparkles bend my will to lust’s command,
    Through my window, out I gaze,
    Do I dare, and face the maze?...

    Through my window, out I stare,
    Whirling clouds give way in anger to a magic godly view,
    Past the giants, past the deserts, past the ocean’s frowning dew,
    On my porch a vision flutters... are they - fairies, pale of hue?
    Through my window, out I stare,
    Do I dare, and visions share?...

    Through my window, out I look,
    Promises of honey droplets hang like beads through steaming air,
    Promises of fire scorching rush like lightning’s blinding glare,
    Promises of Eden’s gardens burst in sudden dazzling flare,
    Through my window, out I look,
    Do I dare, and taste the brook?...

    Through my window, out I see,
    Gentle is the flower, waiting, hope and fear her eyes enmesh,
    Bent in sorrow, stars of crimson petal’s paling cheeks refresh,
    Willing to exchange her ever for a blissful touch of flesh,
    Through my window, out I see,
    Do I dare... and touch the key?...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Counting Your Fingers...

    Counting your fingers,
    One, two... counted five,
    Then counted again, just to make sure,
    Looked down their thin length,
    Smooth, soft fingertips,
    Varnished fingernails,
    One broken.
    You laughed, you said it was while varnishing wood,
    A varnished casualty of varnishing...
    I tasted the broken nailed fingertip,
    It didn’t taste like varnish,
    It tasted like the sea, like the ocean, like the dried up tear you tried to hide...
    I saw you moving it slowly,
    Hardly touching,
    Along my neck, my chest, round my waist,
    Along the back of my leg down to my toe,
    And back up,
    Slightly pausing along the way for a soft pinch,
    Back into my mouth, then in yours...

    I asked you to keep laughing,
    I wanted to count your teeth,
    To test their sharpness as they cut into my fingers...
    You preferred to cut into my lips,
    You said you wanted to feel what a vampire feels like,
    I told you vampires drink the blood because they are hungry,
    You drink the blood because you are in love,
    Then you tried to argue while I closed your mouth
    Presenting you with my lips as the offering on your mouth’s altar,
    But you refused to cut,
    You refused the sacrifice,
    You preferred to grind your teeth into mine
    And let me sip the wild fruit nectar of your mouth,
    Getting me drunk,

    I wanted to count your strawberry tipped breasts,
    With my eyes,
    I found only one,
    The other one was hid by a stubborn arm that you placed querulously above it,
    I removed your arm but there was still only one,
    Now you hid the other one,
    So I stopped counting with my eyes and started counting with my hands,
    You allowed me,
    You allowed me to count with my lips as well,
    Moaning slightly,
    Giggling slightly when I touched a ticklish spot,
    Crossing your legs around my body and squashing me like rotten lemon,
    Crossing your arms around my back and squeezing so hard
    That for a moment I panicked and thought we were going to crush the strawberries,
    Then I remembered,
    They were there for crushing,
    For caressing,
    For loving...

    I refused to count the hours,
    How does one count infinity,
    How does one explain infinity when it ends,
    Paradise when it sheds its leaves,
    Love when it is counted by a rotating arm?
    I counted the tears instead,
    None underneath your eyes,
    So many oceans of it in your heart,
    Never ending,
    Therefore I started counting,
    Never to end,
    Never to leave,

    Counting fingers, one, two... five
    Thin, like wooden flaming shive,
    Crawling shivers body rip,
    Tiny earthquakes raging deep...

    Counting sinking teeth in lips,
    Cutting softly bleeding strips,
    Clashing hungry tooth to tooth,
    Biting deep in lover’s loot...

    Counting proud and burning tips,
    Taking sweetly flavored nips,
    With a taste of heaven’s blend,
    With a scorching touch no end...

    Counting hours, counting days,
    Ruthless - time its offsprings slays,
    Counting seconds, counting fears,
    Counting heartbeats, countless tears...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    You were a poem on page sixty five,
    I was a poem on page eighty seven,
    Many pages between us, and many poems,
    An invisible hand rearranging them daily, the pages, the poems on pages...

    I knew your verses by heart,
    Partly rhyming,
    Partly not rhyming,
    Partly changing constantly,
    Adding lines, removing words, shuffling colors,
    A pulsating chameleon,
    A living kaleidoscope, a million colors rainbow,
    In red, in blue, in soft, in gentle, in warm, in nightingale tunes...
    I tried to listen to them,
    When the book was lying down and your page was above mine,
    The light penetrating the brittle paper,
    Reflecting your letters on my page,
    Mixing shapes, words, adding meaning, adding mystery,
    Changing love to lover, arm to warm,
    Changing pain to passion...
    Did you know you were doing that,
    Or was it the fortunate hand of the hazards god that composed the music?

    I tried to paint my lines on your page,
    When the book was turned the other way around,
    Creating shadows, forests, lakes of words,
    Undulating with the light beams enslaved by the fluttering window curtains,
    Silvery fishes jumping out of rivers,
    Golden leaves shivering under the spell of haunting siren voices...
    Trying to smile at you,
    And at times thinking I could...

    And when, at times, the book was sitting upright,
    Light drilling through its covers side to side,
    Dust speckles breaking the sharp rays into myriad scattered reflections,
    I had the impression that you... see me,
    You try to read me, try to reach through to me,
    Hitting with small punctuation fists the wide desert pages between us,
    Trying to tear a hole through them,
    To get your first line to touch my first word,
    Your title to kiss my poet’s name,
    Your every verse to squeeze in between my every other verse,
    Creating a masterpiece, a new poem, a melody welding two lives...
    Creating a new life...


    Fell asleep, my forehead crushing piles of books strewn on my desk,
    Snoring slightly between novels, from modern to picaresque,
    Just returned from three days travel in this land, what was its name?
    In my bag a crumbling treasure with a verse so picturesque.

    Funny when that little fellow with an out of fashion beard,
    In that dusty little bookshop with a smell so oddly weird,
    Pulled me in, almost imploring for a favor... funny game,
    That this tome away I carry, as if it was hell he feared...

    Climbed aboard the train, my fingers burning with the itch of quest,
    As the iron monster, grumbling, swallowed miles while chasing west,
    I unpacked the heavy bundle with a certain strain of heart,
    Partly weary, partly laughing all my worries back to rest.

    Didn’t feel, when did they fly by - seconds, minutes, hours, miles?
    While my eyes their path were searching in between the pages aisles,
    Didn’t I?... about this poem?... where?... what page was?... where’s the start?
    And confused I kept on mumbling through my neighbors’ hidden smiles.

    Was it just my sleepless hours hazing gaze to slumber come,
    Moments suddenly I shivered with my eyes a frozen glum,
    Words before my eyes parading, pages sliding through a spell,
    Then my head the cobwebs shaking, knowing that I looked so dumb...

    Dozing, shaking, reading, moaning, three more miles and then I’m home,
    Dizzily I climbed the ladder to my desk under the dome,
    All the while a rumbling tremor, like a mute and tongueless bell
    Crossing cover way to cover, streaming through the giant tome.

    Numb with weariness and wonder, to my desk I pulled a chair
    And my pipe with frozen fingers lighted, puffing in the flare,
    Now, I told myself in anger, let’s get down to mother Earth,
    Letting daylight see the marvels melt away in thinnest air.

    Just an hour, then the sunshine dissipate will languor’s haze
    And will help secure my bearings out of this amazing craze,
    Just some seconds... let my eyes close... then - arrayed with joyful mirth
    I will break the piquant logic threading this astounding maze...


    Light, it was always candle light.
    Or gas light, or fluttering oil lamp light.
    Never seen a stronger light, never knew there can be a stronger light.
    It is dark, I know my verses but can’t read yours,
    Did they change meantime,
    Did you lose your way in the darkness and your words mixed up,
    No, please, no, your words so enchanting,
    Your voice penetrating through the wilderness of the separating pages,
    Were you calling out for me moments ago,
    Was this vibration your way of telling me that one day our verses will mix for real,
    That the many thousands of pages separating us will one day be torn away
    And our lines will meet, and our exclamation marks will touch,
    And your rhyme will complement mine and the music will be complete
    In the voices of those reading us,
    In the eyes of those regarding us, dreaming along our lines?...
    Look, look sweet poem many many pages away,
    I see a light, getting stronger, oh, never seen such a light before,
    Now I can see you so clearly,
    Your lines so rhythmic, so fluid,
    Your shape so transparent and gentle...
    Do you see the whirling clouds surrounding our book?
    Do you see my lines?
    Do you see my words' transparent fingers reaching to you,
    Do you see the desert, the maybe, the never, the sometime?
    Here, I found it, for the first time I found it,
    It was written in me and never knew where to look for it,
    Now I found it under this blinding light,
    Look, I found it,
    The magic word... the key to the riddle... fire...

    Let my desire
    Sweep me like fire,
    Let your sweet wonder
    Smite me like thunder,
    Let rhyming spell
    Burn me like hell...


    Fell asleep, my forehead crushing piles of books strewn on my desk,
    Snoring slightly between novels, from modern to picaresque,
    Just returned from three days travel in this land, what was its name?
    In my bag a crumbling treasure with a verse so picturesque.

    Was I dreaming? Did my slumber open up some mystic link,
    Did I hear low thunder roaring through the waves of printed ink,
    Was I still hallucinating, fever laying taxing claim
    To those flailing shreds of logic on onsetting madness’ brink?

    Suddenly, I jumped in horror, torpor’s claws abruptly gone,
    Morning pouring through the windows from a proud and mighty dawn,
    Smoke, like ribbons rising softly where my pipe had fallen down
    Upon charred and glowing fragments blinking, softly, off then on...

    Started crying - mighty heaven, now I’ll never know or find
    Was that magic, was that madness, was that fog inside my mind,
    And I squirmed inside my wonder, on my face an angry frown,
    Sixty five and eighty seven, how the hell they got entwined?...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


All I Wanted...

    As I watched the swelling rivers
    For supremacy contend,
    Sweeping forests, tearing mountains,
    In a fury of no end,
    As I watched the swelling rivers
    Ocean wide and mountain high,
    One small pebble, all I wanted,
    And to die...

    As I heard the old volcano
    Growling deeply like a beast,
    Pouring molten death and fury
    In a fire’s raging feast,
    As I heard the old volcano
    Raising fists against the sky,
    Just a spark, is all I wanted,
    And to die...

    As I touched a graceful laughter,
    As I touched a roaring joy,
    As I touched a wild desire
    Hind thick layers of decoy,
    As I touched a secret yearning
    Hidden deep inside a sigh,
    Once to touch you, all I wanted,
    And to die...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The Promise...

    Is it a promise?
    She said - yes...
    I asked her - when?
    She answered - guess...
    I tried a feeble - where?
    She smiled,
    Mid stampeding horses wild,
    Top a bed of hanging rocks
    Where the eagles nation flocks,
    Fathoms deep twilighted seas
    Roving sharks around and peace,
    Deserts wide of burning sands,
    Forests thick on long lost lands,
    In the languish,
    In the quest,
    In your chest,
    And in my breast...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    So once upon a time,
    ‘Bout neverwhen ago,
    In neverland by neverwhere where neverrivers flo,
    Where neverword is rhyme,
    Kids neverever gro,
    And neverday joins nevernight in neverending glo,
    There lived a little girl,
    Who loved a little boy,
    He promised her a pearl,
    She promised him a toy.

    The years have passed,
    So many years,
    And years, and years, and more,
    The girl has stayed in neverland,
    The boy has gone ashore.
    And night is day,
    And day is night,
    And night is chasing day,
    The girl has stayed in neverland,
    The boy has gone away.
    And weeds have grown
    In flower beds,
    And weeds and weeds galore,
    The girl has stayed in neverland,
    The boy is here no more.

    Dear gentle boy,
    In worlds so wide,
    In worlds and worlds so rich,
    Away you’re gone,
    So out of word,
    So out of missive reach,
    Dear gentle boy,
    Away so far,
    This frightened little girl,
    Awaits, awaits,
    Awaits, awaits,
    Your silver little pearl,
    Dear gentle boy,
    My braids are long,
    And long and long my wait,
    And in my hand
    I hold the toy,
    The promise long of date.

    The years have passed,
    So many years,
    And years and years and more,
    Please blow a bubble
    Ball of soap,
    And send it to my shore,
    And night is day,
    And day is night,
    And night is closing day,
    And fill it with
    Your rainbow’s kiss,
    And send it here away,
    And weeds have grown
    In flower beds,
    And weeds and weeds galore,
    You took my heart,
    Two hearts you have,
    I have a heart no more.

    So once upon a time,
    ‘Bout neverwhen ago,
    In neverland by neverwhere where neverrivers flo,
    Where neverword is rhyme,
    Kids neverever gro,
    And neverday joins nevernight in neverending glo,
    A man no longer boy,
    Returns to find a girl,
    He reaches for the toy,
    She reaches for the pearl,
    And with a final sigh,
    His grizzly head asleep,
    Forever in her lap,
    The toy in mighty grip.

    Oh tender boy, dear sir,
    Forever you are gone,
    The pearl me you grant
    To hold it here alone,
    And grow into the world,
    You gave me life and power,
    Dear sir, you are the seed,
    And I, the pretty flower.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Dressing white, so bright the color, fresh with innocence and charm,
    Rustling leaves forget to chatter as you take me by the arm,
    Down the magic depth of forest bird and beast have stopped to gaze,
    Who’s that child, head on my shoulder, sweeping me into the maze?...

    Dressing white, so clean the color, pale and soft the smiling maid,
    Shyly hums a song the forest blushing rust in leaf and blade,
    Asks a deer a passing rabbit – “who’s that couple deep asleep,
    Skin to skin in seamless pleasure, furs undone in shapeless heap?”

    Dressing white, so pure the color, hand in hand along the path...
    Lowered eyes... and smile the treetops, curbs the storm its rushing wrath,
    One torn button lights the clearing like a work of master art,
    As we leave, my lady holding – and my finger, and my heart.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    You offered me the gift of love,
              That’s all you had to give,
    You offered me your heart to keep
              As long as I shall live.

    You offered me the gift of pain,
              That’s all you had to give,
    You offered me your soul to rip,
              Implored me not to leave.

    You offered me the gift of loss,
              That’s all you had to give,
    You offered me your teardrop’s deep.
              I left on Christmas eve.


    I called it poem. “No,” you said,
    “It’s blood, it’s tears in prose,
    You left a thorn in this girl’s heart,
    I bleed to death, my rose.”

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


On The Grass...

    Rushing ants,
    Up the hill,
    Drag and pull,
    One two drill,
    Grain of rice,
    Crumb of bread,
    Stumble, go,
    Move ahead,
    Rushing ants upon the hill,
    On my belly I lie still,
    Watching, dreaming. On my hand,
    Two big ants decide to land,
    I smile down, they taste my skin,
    I’m decidedly of kin,
    Fangs they open, wink at me,
    On my nose they climb to see
    My sweet love’s pale pretty face,
    Deep asleep in my embrace.

    Buzzing bees,
    Round the hive,
    To and fro,
    Part, arrive,
    Yellow powder,
    Sugar dust,
    Build with wild
    Creative lust,
    Buzzing bees around the hive,
    On my nose – one, two, four, five,
    Squint at me – are you of us?
    Lazy drone or working class?
    One of them into my ear
    For a moment tries to cheer,
    Then at hidden signal, high
    Swoosh, and zoom back from the sky,
    My sweet girl's blue eyes one hour
    Watching. What’s this, some new flower?

    Fighting cubs,
    Round the lair,
    Shove and bite,
    Snarl and tear,
    Piece of ear,
    Bite the heels,
    Fearsome growls,
    More like squeals,
    Fighting cubs around the lair,
    When with sudden mighty dare
    Rush at me with stumbling grace,
    Push their muzzles to my face,
    One quick lick - is mammy you,
    You know, mammy’s hairy too…
    On my head decide to doze,
    Wiggling tails tickle my nose,
    Wondering – whose are the charms,
    Who’s that fairy in my arms?...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    I was seven,
    You were five,
    I played soldiers,
    You loved Clive,
    I pulled pigtails, fought the dragons, wore a torn old green beret,
    All the time searching for you girl, I just didn’t know it yet.

    I was twelve,
    I dumped my toys,
    You were ten,
    You hated boys,
    And one day, I do remember with a clear and aching mind,
    Kissed a girl, her name... what was it?... maybe hoping you to find?

    Sixteen, seventeen,
    You – in love,
    A beauty queen,
    And my own life changed to wonder as I wore a golden ring,
    Was it you, there, in my mind’s eye, making me your only king?...

    Twenty six,
    I’m twenty eight,
    Is life hell? Is bliss?
    Is hate?
    And I try to guess the morrows, work and love and sleep and play,
    Maybe dreaming, maybe hoping, will you be there one fair day?...

    Thirty four,
    You’re thirty two,
    Laugh a lot,
    Do you laugh too?
    Settled. Yet, at times I’m looking for the... what I’m looking for?...
    In between the laughs, the sorrows, do I need... a little... more?...

    Forty nine,
    You’re forty seven.
    You found me,
    And I found heaven.
    I am here, so wide the water roaring our lives apart,
    You are there, so thin the silence keeping heart from beating heart.


    Fifty three,
    You’re fifty one,
    Elvis gone,
    The Stones are done,
    And I close my eyes with wonder, searching back, then forth – in vain,
    Did we, will we ever, ever... ever make love in the rain?...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Lady, lady, fair and free,
    Will you share your spring with me?

    Laddie, laddie,
    Young and wild,
    Will I bear
    Your bastard child,
    Will you light
    My passion’s fire,
    Will you chill
    Your wild desire,
    And at road’s turn
    Will you say -
    Fare thee well...
    My heart to slay?

    Lady, lady, soft and free,
    Summer will you share with me?

    Young man, young man,
    Gay and bold,
    Will I want
    Your hand to hold,
    Will you burn
    My heart’s sweet dream,
    Will you live
    A roaring dream,
    And at morning’s
    Fading night,
    Will you go
    And kill my light?

    Lady, lady, pale and free,
    Autumn then please share with me?

    Dearest boy,
    Your handsome face,
    Will I love
    Your hot embrace,
    Will you make me
    Passion’s slave,
    Will you joke,
    And sneer, and rave,
    And when tears
    From eyes will flow,
    Will you laugh,
    And will you go?

    Lady, lady, soft as rhyme,
    May I share your winter time?

    Gentle sir,
    Will thou me swear,
    My name across
    Your heart to wear,
    When pain, when ache,
    To wipe my brow,
    My darkest nights
    To set aglow,
    And when my day
    Will be to part,
    A rose to wear
    Across thy heart?

    Gentle lady,
    I thee swear,
    Your name across
    My heart to wear,
    When pain, when ache,
    To wipe your brow,
    Your darkest nights
    To set aglow,
    And when your day
    Will be to part,
    I’ll lie across
    Thy silent heart.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


That Magic Night...

    That magic night,
    In bridal white,
    Atop a wild unsaddled steed drawn with a charcoal’s heart,
    That gentle might,
    An eye so bright,
    Across a path of cobweb bricks, a master spider’s art,
    The moon alight,
    The sun your right,
    You came my stay and flowed to ground, a snowflake’s breath apart,
    That deep delight,
    A graceful sprite,
    Your lips my ear did softly touch, your pledge me to impart.

              “My master king,
              This golden ring,
              My soul with yours entwines,
              My pledge for life,
              Your sacred wife,
              With blood on flesh it signs.

              Thru mother earth,
              Thru children’s birth,
              Thru seasons we’ll grow strong,
              Till fire’s glow,
              Till heart’s last throe,
              Till end, I thee belong.

              On wind’s soft blow,
              We’ll sail, we’ll flow,
              A father’s soft embrace,
              And water cools,
              In icy pools,
              The body’s heat to chase.”

              “My lady queen,
              Your soul so clean,
              My thread of life I pledge,
              To weave in mine,
              Your love divine,
              And you to guard and fledge.

              Thru love and bliss,
              Thru war and peace,
              The iron core to steel,
              To trust and dare,
              To give and share,
              Your pain and hurt to heal.

              With honest faith,
              Your thirst I’ll sate,
              And keep you to my right,
              My crown and throne,
              My sceptre’s stone,
              My hand, my arm, my might.”

    That magic night,
    In bridal white,
    I carried you the hundred stairs up to the bridal room,
    That gentle might,
    An eye so bright,
    The moonlight beams your only dress, a flower deep in bloom,
    The moon alight,
    The sun your right,
    The passion rivers teeming wild at love’s fervid perfume,
    That deep delight,
    A graceful sprite,
    Your sleeping sigh my heart, my life, my kingdom to illume.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The Right...

    Songs and flowers,
    Children play,
    Drums and ribbons,
    ‘Cause today,
    Lad and lass,
    At eve and some,
    Vows will trade,
    In marriage come.

    Wooden tables,
    Bread and cheese,
    Wine three barrels,
    Roasted peas,
    And where sill
    To wall adjoins,
    Lordship’s gift,
    Three golden coins.

    The darkness deep, all poor and all benight
    At village inn have joined for, thru the night,
    The cheerful youth, with wonder to behold,
    The flushing bride, with braids of molten gold.

    A grumbling dog, what is this nearing thunder,
    Claiming the joy, the life, to tear asunder,
    The heavy hooves, the yellow stinking flame,
    The castle lord, his right has come to claim.

    Wild the youth,
    And scared the bride,
    Flesh and bone
    With shield collide...
    Gone the lass,
    Benumbed the dream,
    In the castle
    Howls the scream...

    Early morn,
    A crying wench,
    Blood and tear
    The torn garb drench,
    Tries a youth,
    Her love re-claim,
    In his eyes
    A raging flame...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Lady night,
    Your starry breath
    Paint it on my lover’s bed,
    When her tears the pillow stain
    It’s of me she’ll think again.

    Lady day,
    Your butterflies
    Paint them on my lover’s eyes,
    When her life the rainbows fill
    Turn to me her laughter will.

    Lady moon,
    Your silver veil
    Paint it on the nightingale,
    Let my love at early morn
    From my heart pull out the thorn.

    Lady sun,
    Your silken ray
    Paint it on my lady fay,
    When her body joins the lace
    It’s to me her thoughts will race.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


With Me?...

    In the spring a buzzing bee
    Would you care and watch with me,
    Pouring gleaming sugar hail
    Long the anthills’ busy trail,
    Chopping in-the-pulpit-Jack,
    Eating berries – blue and black,
    Cotton candy to your lips,
    In my mouth your finger tips...

    In the summer by the sea
    Would you like to play with me,
    Riding turtles on the beach,
    Chasing lizards out of reach,
    Drawing faces in the sand,
    Melting ice-cream in your hand,
    And with sunset’s bluish light
    Sighing gently in delight...

    Under autumn’s shedding tree
    Would you come and lie with me,
    Drinking rain from gushing skies,
    Licking drops around my eyes,
    Kicking leaves and running wild,
    Partly woman, mostly child,
    Stamping, stomping, squirting mud,
    Drowning worlds your laughter’s flood...

    In the winter – roaming free,
    Would you share my shack with me,
    Shoving snowballs down my shirt,
    Eyes ablaze with flaming mirth,
    Rubbing gloves to frozen nose,
    Greenish blue, and purple rose,
    By the crack of glowing fire
    Softly quenching my desire...

    Bee, and sea, and tree, and free...
    Would you share your life with me?...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Far Away...

    Far away from flight of eye,
    Way beyond the stretch of sky,
    Ever out the reach of men,
    Gone by where, and why, and when,
    Past the glint of dreams debris,
    Out of was, and is, and be,
              Hides a star,
              And none can see...

    Looking low by mountain’s shade,
    Cross the dreaming forest glade,
    Dripping honey from her breast,
    Braiding kisses round her nest,
    Moulding sighs to lullaby,
    Smiles a princess, sad of eye,
              In her lap,
              Asleep am I...

    Lucid fingers trace my cheek,
    Left of chest an answer seek,
    “Tell me stranger, soft of word,
    Queer of ways and fast of sword,
    To my world you brought your sun,
    Seasons many, torture one,
              Will you part
              And leave me none?...”

    Melting icebergs glide from eyes,
    Crush my heart in velvet vise,
    “Clue me stranger, will my nest
    Crumble down at your behest,
    Burn the silk on which we wed,
    From my breast, on which you fed,
              Blood will weep
              And leave me dead?...

    From the depths of soul unbending,
    In the fields of love unending,
    Far from world and far from never
    I have sown the seeds of ever,
    I have fed it tear and sorrow,
    Angry past and sweet tomorrow,
              Could I please
              Your dream now borrow,

    In my star to weave its thread,
    Run it through my bloodied bed,
    Pour till over runs my cup,
    Paint forget in waking up,
    In the star that’s never been
    You the king and I the queen,
              Queen of lace,
              And king of tin?...”

    Closed my eyes, I know I’m there,
    Lost amid the when and where,
    Not awake and not asleep,
    Honey marbles slowly drip,
    Kisses flutter round and by,
    Tunes of passion drift and fly,
              In her lap,
              Awaken I...

    Seeing gates of crimson red
    Hiding pearls loose of thread,
    Frozen lakes of whirling blue
    Shying back of frozen dew,
    Zephyr caress tame of feel
    Melting flakes from core of steel,
              By your side
              I bend and kneel...

    “Did the lark to heights take wing,
    In your voice his ode to sing,
    Did the sky its scheme reveal
    From your eyes the blue to steal,
    Did the sun lie down to get
    Scorching fire from your breath,
              Is it life,
              Or sweetest death?...

    Did your blood my veins invade
    Rushing forth its mad crusade,
    Did your thunder’s roaring art
    Find a haven in my heart,
    Did your soul its endless quest
    End inside my craving chest,
              You and I,
              One self, one nest?...”


    Rolls the legend... “...stars away,
    Far from night, and far from day,
    There’s a land where wishes dock,
    Dreams cut riverbeds in rock,
    Smiles cascade from evening’s sky
    Without never, when or why...”
              It’s the land
              Of you... and I...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    so special,
    a girl yet a full grown woman,
    a pebble yet a sparkling diamond,
    a snow flake yet a steel bar,
    a word yet a book of wisdom.

    pure chance,
    we could have passed each other on the street,
    this single unique moment in time when it could have happened,
    our lives and ways ruled by the rolling die of the gods,
    and i would have gone east,
    she would have crossed the street,
    without capturing the eye,
    without touching a sleeve,
    and the die would roll again,
    and the moment gone,
    never to return,
    never to meet again,
    never knowing we never met,
    never longing for it,
    never being sorry for it,
    never happened.

    but the die got stuck.
    it hit a corner and couldn’t decide which way to fall.
    so it preferred not to decide.
    got stuck in between never
    and always.
    and the gods decided to let the game play itself out.
    for once they would not interfere,
    they would not kick it free and force it to decide,
    they would let the uncontrollable variables get into the human formula,
    the passion,
    the guilt,
    the pain,
    the passing time, the changing world, the other...
    and see what would happen.
    not controlling, not leading, not deciding.
    but following.
    and the mortals, for once, should play it out.

    we met.
    we clashed, we crashed, we fused,
    we rived each other’s chest
    and ripped each other’s heart
    and riveted each in his own chest
    the other’s thunder,
    the other’s blood,
    the other’s life.
    and the gods were confused, complaining this was not a fair game anymore,
    that we broke the rules,
    that we should not have met, that it should not have happened.

    too late.
    even for the gods it was too late,
    what gods do gods cannot undo,
    what gods allow others to do gods cannot undo.
    they can just release the die, and let it roll again,
    and see and accept what the next roll will bring.
    games of the gods,
    rules of the gods,
    pains of the flesh.

    and the thunder rolling,
    and the blood raving,
    and life roaring...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The Masters Of Chance...

    Do you remember, Elvis was rocking,
    Neil on the moon in soft dust started walking,
    John with the Russians was going to war,
    Paul John George and Ringo scooped charts with a roar,
    A waspy lithe body with skirts flying high,
    With chest crushing chest, with thigh crushing thigh,
    Wild fluttering hair and rolling of hips,
    And hand crushing hand, and lips crushing lips...

    Do you remember, “One Night” in the van,
    “Ich bin ein Berliner”, “A small step for man”,
    Do you remember I do and I do,
    With the Platters sweet playing a soft “Only you”...

    Do you remember, you screamed at the sky,
    A baby tore out in the world with a cry,
    A bundle of flesh hungry clutching your breast,
    Your body in tatters, your spirit at rest...

    Do you remember, the masters of chance,
    Forever at war with the masters of dance,
    Decided to play all their cards like a clown,
    And Elvis was dead, and John was cut down,
    And time traded space in a battle of wills,
    As memories fade and as nothingness spills,
    And there never was I, and there never was you,
    And there never was us, and was never I do...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Lovers’ food,
    Playing musical tunes on voice’s vibrating strings,
    Deliciously rolling round the tongue’s amorphous softness,
    Bouncing inside the mouth,
    Ricocheting front tooth to cheek to rear tooth,
    Echoing over and over inside the rough confines of head’s bony sculpture,
    Till the song is ready, the smile bursting to rush out,
    To conquer the world,
    And the gates open,
    And the lips sculpt the colors, the shapes, the shades,
    And it flows...
    Tiny waves undulating like shapeless fish inside the colorless air ocean,
    Invisible wings beating thousand beats per second,
    Carrying the sound sparks,
    Reflections rushing madly between facing mirrors,
    Finding endless distances to conquer, endless ears, endless hearts...

    My lover’s food.
    My lover’s food, and wine, and music...
    My food.
    My food, and wine, and music...
    When my lover writes a whispered sigh,
    When my lover bends a gold gilded word,
    When my lover baths in celestial spelling wonders
    And holds my face in her rhyming spell,
    Drilling into my eyes her eternal vows,
    Roaring into my ears her eternal inaudible laughter,
    Carving into my lips the indelible mark of her loving teeth...

    Rhymes. Chimes.
    Kiss. Bliss.
    You. I. Live. Die.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Miles and miles of blood red carpet,
    Hundreds of thousands of fragile anemones,
    Hungrily opening their mouths to the sun,
    Swallowing the piercing rays, the lulling heat,
    Lazily rolling in the thin breeze,
    Hiding in their impenetrable midst the reddest of them all,
    The warmest, softest of them all,
    The sweetest,
    Never to be found, never to be picked,
    Never to be distinguished from all those others guarding it with fragile fierceness,
    With envy and adoration.
    Never to be touched.
    Your mouth.

    Never? That’s just fine, ‘cause I have forever to look for it.
    And then one more day.

    Leagues and leagues of sky blue desert,
    Billions and billions of tiny little drops,
    Childishly playing foaming games under the smiling sun,
    Sparkling in blinding changing colors, living for one single blink of the eye,
    Then for another one,
    Rolling in giant waves and sneaky currents,
    Impudently claiming possession amidst them of the bluest of them all,
    Competing on warmth, on flame, on depth,
    Playing hide and seek and never disclosing the hide out,
    Ready to sacrifice their tiny lives for the queenly beauty,
    For the devastating secret,
    For the door to the sea-gods kingdom.
    Never to be seen, never to be discovered,
    Never to be gazed into.
    Your eyes.

    Never? That’s just fine, ‘cause I have forever to find it.
    And then one more day.

    Raging seas,
    Exploding volcanoes,
    Rumbling god steps upon black lightning whipped clouds,
    Deafening thunder, deafening roar,
    Hiding mid their imposing threatening kingdom the most awesome thunder of them all,
    Ready to mount guard in hell protecting their majestic guest,
    Beating with the oceans, beating with the mountains,
    Beating with the humming forests.
    Never to be ensnared, never to be enslaved,
    Never to be tamed.
    Your heart.

    Never? That’s just fine, ‘cause I have forever to capture it.
    And then one more day.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    A woman?
    A little girl,
    Lost in a forest of questions,
    Asking so many why’s,
    Unable to answer, to accept the answer,
    Wishing to know secrets unknown,
    Wishing to be told the reasons, the mysteries, the magic spell rhymes,
    Wishing to be a little girl,
    Careless of the why’s, the how’s, the when’s...
    The little girl, the woman...

    Water sculptures,
    Shapeless thoughts forming on your eye’s inner view,
    Cruising round your mind, down the depth of your heart,
    Knowing certainly that maybe,
    Finding routes leading from everywhere to a wonderful nowhere,
    Weaving day’s sun rays into night’s absorbing black cloth,
    Seeing shadows of black on black,
    Seeing music of soft on sweet,
    Seeing dreams,
    Careless of time, of place, of reality,
    Seeing the dreams, knowing the desires...

    A spark?
    A super nova,
    Eyes open or eyes shut burning with creation’s intensity,
    Spreading wild, consuming,
    Desert in its wake,
    Flowers dressing the desert,
    Colored wings dressing the flowers,
    Long fingers touching the colored wings with thin soft finger tips,
    Carrying a message,
    Carrying a forgotten dream to a sleeping girl,
    Carrying the super nova fire to the girl’s forbidden heart’s gardens,
    Careless of life, of death, of eternity’s nothingness,
    The super nova revelling in its disguise as spark...


    A hawk?
    A little bird,
    Broken wing hanging limp,
    Leaning to one side, looking with imploring eyes for the final blow,
    Begging, tortured by the inevitability of life,
    Letting me mend its shattered fragile bone
    Pouring layers upon layers of sweet potion upon the bleeding wound,
    Quiet in its pain, silent in its pain,
    Huddling in a corner of my palm,
    Soaking in the warmth, sleeping,
    Waiting for the day when one mighty flap
    Will carry it soaring away,
    Into the sun,

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Black On Blue...

    Black on blue.
    Black chiffon veil descending over shiny eyes,
    Invisible thread running long hundreds of indiscernible small squares,
    Parceling the clouded extents of the twin blue lakes into as many fragments,
    Each a different shade of blue,
    Each a different shine and twinkle,
    Each carrying a fragment of the tear shaped drop running away long pale cheeks,
    To a mouth’s corner,
    Where you, unknowingly, lick it away.

    Black on red.
    Black chiffon veil descending over hesitating lips,
    Its hundreds of tiny windows hazy with the steamy breath,
    Fluttering softly like autumn leaves caressed in their fall by sliding air fingers,
    Sticking at times to a trembling lower lip,
    Touching it lovingly then hating to part from the wet murmuring flesh,
    Allowing white shiny ivory flashes at times through the haze,
    Salty crystals gathering invisible at mouth’s corners,
    Visions of forgotten tunes escaping the forgiving mesh into the frozen sun light,
    When you, ensnared inside a painful dream, pray.

    Black on white.
    Black chiffon, black cotton, black silk, black pearls...
    Covering white flesh, with modesty, with reserve,
    With hidden beauty,
    Rarely allowing an occasional glimpse into the kingdom’s secrets,
    Flapping round thin ankles,
    Raising and falling with life’s unmistakable signs,
    Stretching round numb constantly changing landscapes,
    Round numb thoughts and frozen mind images,
    Images flickering through the black flapping canvas of memories painted by time,
    Your memories.


    The blue, darker,
    The red, deeper,
    The white, blinding in its reborn innocence.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


You Sent Me A Flower. Again...

    You sent me a flower. Again.

    Scratched my head and kind of wondered
    Which of gardens have you plundered,
    Knowing how
    Then and now
    Raced my blood and my heart thundered...

    Torn the FRAGILE penciled sticker,
    In the candle’s yellow flicker
    I just gazed
    Bit of dazed
    To the cage of slender wicker...

    Looked at it for many hours,
    Didn’t look like any flowers
    I have seen
    Out or in
    Endless fields or soaring towers...

    Days have passed, then weeks kept flowing,
    Not a sign of wilt was showing,
    Just at times
    Tingling chimes
    Mixed with sparks short moments glowing...

    Tried to think, to work, to slumber,
    All I could was only lumber,
    In my mind
    Was I kind
    Scared my life it might encumber?...

    Was I trying life’s own riddle
    To decipher and to twiddle,
    While I tried
    To abide
    By its start and end and middle?...

    Was I taking my decision
    Riding on a head collision
    With my heart,
    Torn apart,
    With a life or with a vision?...

    Was I playing beyond senses
    Cutting through old magic’s fences
    Like a child,
    Wishes wild,
    Rippling past my life’s defenses?...

    Up. I stand. My body spent,
    Merging pain with soft lament
    Getting near,
    Love and fear,
    As my soul and heart ferment,

    And I touch the petals nest,
    First a petal facing west,
    Petals fold,
    Sand and gold
    Pour in endless loving quest...

    Then I touch a petal north
    Petals many folding forth,
    Leaving bare
    Trickling tears of reddish sort...

    East the petals now I touch
    Folding down roll way too much,
    Sunshine burns,
    Fire churns,
    Growling thunder’s fearsome clutch...

    South I touch, a petals tide
    Folds unfolds an ocean wide,
    Screaming life
    Eons rife
    Bleeds a heart. My love. My bride.

    Times a whisper, times a thunder,
    Times a chiming here then yonder,
    Times a sighing,
    Times a crying,
    Times a trusting love’s sweet wonder...

    Softly beating, asking, urging,
    Dreams of life and hopes emerging,
    Yes, your heart,
    Living art
    And its plea is gently surging...

    I approach, my fingers reaching,
    Blazing demons flying screeching,
    Touch I do,
    Touching you,
    On your coast my hand is beaching,

    As of sudden whispers cover
    Smiling tunes which lilt and hover,
    In my hand,
    As I stand,
    Flutters wild your heart, sweet lover.

    In my left your heart I feel,
    In my right I feel the steel,
    Rive my chest,
    Rib and breast,
    Carve an altar there I will,

    And for times no end no age,
    Way beyond life’s final page,
    You and I,
    Eye to eye,
    Heart to heart in heaven’s cage.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Wish I was of beggar race,
    Dark of brow and thin of face,
    Spending nights in gutters dreaming,
    Passing days in hunger screaming,
    No regretting, no redeeming,
    Out of place...

    Wish your father was a king,
    In his castle’s secret wing
    Hiding you, afraid white day
    Your blue eyes will burn away
    Like the curse that witch did lay
    Back in spring...

    Wish the legend told was true
    Of the riddle known to few -
    ...Burning love of one unknown
    Will lay curse to grave of stone
    Binding life to death so lone,
    Life for you...


    Says the riddle - ...brown’s the flower
    Black winged angels will devour,
    Blue the angels’ roving home
    Reaching up to endless dome,
    Angel armies drift and roam,
    Soaring power...

    Says the riddle - ...red’s the flowing
    Grey shaped angels’ eyes are glowing,
    Green the angels’ roving home,
    Reaching up to rustling dome,
    Angel armies drift and roam,
    Never knowing...

    Says the riddle - ...one so humble
    Will upon my meaning stumble
    And my angels’ names surmise,
    And unfold my secret’s guise,
    On his way to own demise
    Curse will tumble...


    Wish I knew a way of healing
    While in piles of garbage kneeling
    Dreaming heaven mid of hell
    Alter curse to shining spell,
    Known to none, and none to tell,
    My mind reeling...

    Wish I knew why this my fate,
    Known to none past castle’s gate,
    Loving you - the one unknown,
    Angels’ names - the one to own,
    I - the humble, I - the lone,
    Death to mate...

    Wish I knew why can’t I part,
    I... not knight, nor prince, nor bart,
    Just for once you... having seen,
    I - a nothing, you - a queen,
    Damned the witch that set the scene,
    Burned my heart...


    Says the legend, people telling
    In a field way far from dwelling
    Lies a beggar, dark brown eyes
    One black raven rips and flies
    Home, to blue-rich endless skies...
    Passions quelling...

    Says the legend, people chatter
    In a field way mid of patter
    Lies a beggar, red flesh chunks
    One grey wolf bites off and bunks
    Home, to green-rich rustling trunks...
    Passions shatter...

    Says the legend, people gazing,
    In the castle curtains raising,
    Gone the curse and walls are falling,
    Sun in droves through windows rolling,
    Tears of joy and lovers strolling...
    Passions blazing...


    Kings and queens have joined the wedding,
    Sleeps the pair in silken bedding,
    And afar, away from sight,
    Grows a tree of awesome might,
    Brown, lined red, its leaves at night
    Tears are shedding...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Young buds yawning lazily,
    Unable to close for long weeks to come their open toothless mouths,
    Birds returning home,
    Chatting at midnight and sleeping at noon,
    Still failing to accommodate the far south clock with the northern sun,
    Butterflies sleeping cocooned in their dreams of color,
    Before deciding it is their time to replace rainbows and flowers and sunshine...
    Fresh like an opening bud,
    Joyful like an awakening bird,
    Beautiful... like no butterfly could ever be...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


You Know...

    You know, at times I like to rhyme,
    Though well I know that, given time,
    I’ll waste the words that dress the verse,
    I’ll move from nice to short and terse,
    Yet, look at all those inch thick tomes
    In crumbling rooms or crystal domes,
    Where words - much same - just spin and sink
    Which left, which right, which shyly blink,
    And power gain from tone of voice,
    From rolling round the dice of choice,
    Till finally a new born ode
    The might of words pulls up the road,
    With mighty flaps to dive, then fly,
    Down oceans deep, up mountains high
    Down souls in wait, up eyes in rain,
    Down dreams in hope, up hearts in pain...

    You know, at times I wish to steal
    Those words that bloodless wounds can heal,
    From yellowed pages time forgot
    And out of sight are left to rot,
    From shifting sands on rocky shores,
    From peeling bark, from slamming doors,
    Which hands so soft and hands so rough
    With ink, or knife, or sigh, or laugh,
    Have carved through eons since days old
    Rich colored dreams in dirt or gold,
    And brains so mighty, eyes so far,
    With fire, blood, or boiling tar
    Have smeared with fingers, body long
    Sad words of death through words of song,
    Wish that I could that mighty roar
    Way down my throat in thirst to pour...

    You know, at times I freeze and die,
    With blank impressions flitting by,
    With words a million screaming round
    So meaningless of sense and sound,
    Still waiting patiently and lost
    Through burning hell or scathing frost,
    Still waiting... Wishing? Seeing? Blind,
    Till... through my dead and frozen mind,
    Swift sudden shudders spark and run,
    I sense a touch of nearing sun,
    I sense a finger nearing brow,
    I sense... I wake, I blink, I know
    The sun, the life, the rhyme, the sense,
    The ever pain, the joy intense,
    The I, the why, the smile, the who,
    Your love, your laugh, your finger, you...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Metamorphosis, Two...

    Let the moon hide your face,
    So I can look at you
              and be blinded by the corona’s stretching fire fingers...

    Let the night mask all but your eyes,
    So I can regard them
              and die still counting the countless exploding stars...

    Let the wind ruffle your hair,
    So I can crush under the colossal weight
              of mountain high swishing fragile petals...

    Let eternal quiet envelope the world,
    So I can smash against your shores
              lured by the siren song of your breath...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Fading Dreams...

dedicated to the one I love,
may her dreams never fade away as mine so often did...

    I huddle in a corner,
    Knees against my chin,
    Locking arms around each shoulder with a mind in spin,
    Under lowered eyelids,
    Rolling in their cage,
    Pools of whirling muddy water foam in mindless rage,
    Mid of screaming thunder
    Wild dreams ride a boat,
    Gaping holes yawn toothless grins through a hull in rot,
    Dirty sails in tatters
    Clutch a broken mast
    Idly riding one more crest, prey to time amassed...

    Who’s that scrawny sailor,
    Stumbling on the deck,
    With a yellow oil-lamp hanging from his wizened neck,
    Salt encrusted fingers,
    Dirty fingernails,
    Pulling up his weary muscles long the biting rails,
    Haggard eyes on fire
    Inside hollow cracks,
    Gripping low the hefty handle of a dulling ax,
    Nears a darkened galley,
    Nears a wooden door,
    Lifts his muscle and the padlock splinters with a roar...


    Wide the valley proudly flowing down from mountain’s misty peaks,
    Flows a herd of snow-white stallions long the shallow, turbid creeks,
    Free of bridle, free of saddle, ironless the glinting hooves,
    Neighs the tidal wave its tantrum as its fury onward moves,
    Chasing like a mindless torrent one black, giant mare ahead,
    On its neck - the naked vision miles ago its cloth had shed,
    Flying hair in yellow ribbons whipping dust clouds in its wake,
    Shrieking laughter splitting mountains, tearing rifts through rock and lake,
    Rides the fairy to her lover, tiny fingers, steely springs
    Holding to a mane lambasting like the beat of savage wings,
    Rides the fairy to her lover, dowry bringing thousand heads
    Stolen from her father’s stables’ fire-hearted thoroughbreds...

    There’s a tower down there, sunward, half an arrow’s reach away
    And a merlon’s flapping pennants bidding proudly right of way,
    Wild the gallop, wild the fever in the bouncing naked breasts,
    Win she did the crown, the kingdom, this is tenth and last of quests,
    Win she did her handsome lover, prince of west till ridges north,
    Heretofore a wild contender, soon a bride, then queen henceforth,
    In his arms to hide her sorrows, pains of war and scars of old,
    In his bed to lose her maidhood amidst ripping lace and gold,
    Pouring sweat on sizzling fire they will cross the skywards gate
    Hugging death with wild desire, chasing lovers’ sacred fate,
    And tomorrows many thousands they will rule this blessed land,
    Side by side, through love and justice, eye in eye, and hand in hand...

    Nears the gate, long banner flutter in majestic, proud salute,
    On she rides... then all of sudden... like a shrieking, wailing flute...
    What’s this noise, what is this rumble, what’s this sudden salty spray?
    What’s this sudden gaping darkness cutting right across her way?
    Where’s the tower, where’s the castle, where’s the lover’s greeting face,
    Who’s that faceless, wizened figure sad of eye and bare of grace?...
    Wispy fingers forth she stretches to a fading, dying light
    As her mare the clouds approaches merging boldly with the night
    And her gaze dulls to aggrievement as her world to naught is slain,
    Like a dying smoke, the stallions dissipate through drizzling rain,
    Fades the thunder, fades the wonder, fades unborn the pleading scream,
    And in thousand fading fragments whiffs away the fading dream...


    Up, his gaze turns for a moment to a patch of whitish cloud,
    Ten-man deep the pit above him, one-man wide the rocky shroud,
    Fifteen knots the rope is hanging, fifteen more it’s bound to bear,
    Boiling sweat his brow is pouring on the wounds his fingers wear,
    Boiling sweat adorns his forehead, fifteen wounds his fingers wear,
    Picks the elf the flint-ax handle, wood and muscle firmly blend,
    One short pause, a thought surfaces... do I want to reach the end?...
    Then, defiantly his laughter echoes wild in the confine,
    Bites his way through half a bread loaf, gulps a mouthful bitter wine
    And he strikes again the bottom with a power born of will,
    Quakes the rock with shattered pebbles, echoes roll and splinters spill
    As he strikes once more the bottom, driven by a blinding crave
    For the spring’s cool, magic waters flowing down to stony grave...

    Nineteen knots... he pulls the rubble up the pit’s garroting shaft,
    Twenty three... the rope incises skin and body front and aft,
    Yet, the air is getting thicker with a dank and whirling steam,
    Soon, so soon he’ll gulp a mouthful of the shallow, golden stream...
    Just one drop, and elf to human will have changed inside one moon,
    By his bride, the gentle maiden, to abide... a mortal groom,
    His divine ancestral powers slain by mortal woman’s kiss
    His eternal everafter by a crumb of mortal bliss,
    On a bed of autumn petals their agony will flare
    When a breast the white of summer in abandon and despair
    Crushes into chest and muscle donning flint and human stock...
    Almost there... the fist encroaches on the last collapsing rock...

    There’s the sparkle, gurgling water gushes forth at length of hand,
    Fingers reach... then all of sudden... like a world forever banned...
    What’s this noise, what is this rumble, what’s this sudden salty spray?
    What’s this sudden gaping darkness cutting right across his way?
    Where’s the spring, where is the water, where’s the mortal’s sweet embrace,
    Who’s that faceless, wizened figure sad of eye and bare of grace?...
    Angry fingers back he stretches to a fading, dying sight,
    As his lungs the clouds inspire merging boldly with the night,
    And his gaze dulls to aggrievement as his world to naught is slain,
    Like a dying smoke, the mountains dissipate through drizzling rain,
    Fades the thirst, and fades the wonder, fades unborn the pleading scream,
    And in thousand fading fragments whiffs away the fading dream...


    Plains of bluebells by the thousands gently swaying in the breeze,
    Lakes of snowdrops shyly staring down at grains embraced by freeze,
    Crocus oceans wildly waving against shores of iris gems,
    Bare of foot, a smiling maiden weaves a crown of tender stems
    By her side a youth is sleeping drowned in beds of rustling leaves,
    Rainbow bugs rush in the shadows of his shirt’s inviting sleeves,
    Bends the maid, dethroning sunlight by the flash of laughing eyes,
    Endless hair strands tickling lightly in a manner most unwise,
    Bounds the youth and sneezes lightly, grabs the maiden by her waist
    Bites her lips with gentle fury, sugar glazed and cherry laced,
    And when stardust chases sunshine to its lair, westward down,
    Lays the maiden on his forehead the majestic flowers crown...

    One more sunset, one more sunrise, at the rooster’s lofty call,
    Wearing splendid white of satin with a hint of golden sprawl,
    She will offer all of virtue, all of soul and love no end
    To that youth whose passion’s fire with her tender smile will blend,
    One more night spell, one more day charm, one more stretch of breathless wait,
    And the vow will burn a promise in thereafter’s silver plate,
    Words of sweet and senseless meaning will be flying lip to ear
    Seeing morrows wrapped in color through the spark of lover’s tear,
    One more sun... through parting rainbows birds descend and proffer songs
    As they wade through wheat and roses hosting butterflies in throngs,
    Far behind, a crushed impression of embrace adorns the field,
    In the hearts, a pledge is burning - joy to groom and love to wield.

    There’s the day, the cheer, the laughter, knave and maid and eyes ablaze
    Joining hands... then all of sudden... like an icy stabbing haze...
    What’s this noise, what is this rumble, what’s this sudden salty spray?
    What’s this sudden gaping darkness cutting right across the way?
    Where’s the crowd, where is the music, where’s the lover’s sunny face,
    Who’s that faceless wizened figure sad of eye and bare of grace?...
    Trembling fingers out are stretching to a fading, dying might,
    As their hands are torn asunder merging boldly with the night,
    And the gaze dulls to aggrievement as the world to naught is slain,
    Like a dying smoke, the lovers dissipate through drizzling rain,
    Fades the magic, fades the wonder, fades unborn the pleading scream,
    And in thousand fading fragments whiffs away the fading dream...


    I huddle in a corner,
    Knees against my chin,
    Locking arms around each shoulder with a mind in spin,
    Under lowered eyelids,
    Rolling in their cage,
    Pools of whirling muddy water foam in mindless rage,
    Mid of screaming thunder
    Wild dreams ride a boat,
    Gaping holes yawn toothless grins through a hull in rot,
    Dirty sails in tatters,
    Clutch a broken mast,
    Idly sinks dark fathoms deep, prey to eons vast...

    Huddled in a corner,
    Knees against my chin,
    Limp the arms lie in my lap with a shiver thin,
    Under lowered eyelids,
    Frozen in their cage,
    Pools of stale and shallow water die of endless age,
    Gone the screaming thunder,
    Gone the dreams and boat,
    Gushes death through gaping holes, hull and anchor bloat,
    Dirty sails in tatters
    Tear away from mast,
    Dreams majestic, gallant, proud, die... to one and last.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Well, around the place I come from,
    East of West, a place called home.com,
    Quadrupeds that miaow are Mitzi’s,
    Some bipeds name breasts as Tzitzi’s,
    And the race that barks are Bobby’s
    (Some are biting, harmless hobbies...).

    It was one late autumn evening,
    Outside windy, wet and drizzling,
    I just started munching idly
    On what’s being known so widely
    As the scottish Big... (ooh... ee...
    I will not ad them for free...)...

    Anyway, as I was telling,
    (Do forgive my careless spelling)
    I was busy mouthfuls chewing,
    Here and there in shivers spewing
    ‘Cause The Raven I was reading
    Master Poe my nerve ends kneading,

    “...While I nodded, nearly napping,
    suddenly there came a tapping,
    As of some one gently rapping,
    rapping at my chamber door.
    ‘Tis some visiter,’ I muttered,
    ‘tapping at my chamber door’...”

    I was reading, my nerves snapping,
    ...suddenly there came a tapping...
    Through my nose the coke came whistling
    As my hair like barbs went bristling,
    Spewing chips and bits of cabbage
    I picked up the yucky garbage,

    And I neared the screeching door,
    One blunt fork (no gun, I’m poor...),
    Slowly widening the crack,
    Screaming wind... that’s all... then WHACK!!!
    My big nose the door does flatten
    And I curse in broken Latin,

    When this... what?... this... thing, this... bubble,
    Am I really seeing double?...
    Hairy like an ape unshaven,
    Definitely not the Raven,
    Crashes ‘tween my legs a growling,
    Is it running? Is it rolling?

    While through air I’m sailing, flailing,
    In my a.. the fork is nailing,
    (censorship... you will excuse,
    not allowed any abuse...)
    This hippopotamus’ cousin
    In half second - half a dozen

    Of my pretzels, soft and tasty
    Down he (she?) gulps down, then hasty
    On she (he?)... well, IT... attention
    (what is this, the Fifth Dimension?...)
    Moves to my black olives bowl...
    What the hell you stinking troll,

    Get your fangs off my food trophy,
    What comes next, cigar and coffee?
    And my ass gets off the floor
    (Censors I shall fear no more...)
    With what dignity is left,
    This most horrifying theft

    I will punish, justice will
    Take its toll, and this until
    You there dirty critter... oops,
    What is that? my God, it poops...
    Horrified I scream... You slug,
    Get off my Chinese new rug,

    Fifteen hundred bucks ago,
    One day old, and all this dough
    Now will host your early meal?...
    Hey, what’s that? was that a squeal?
    Slowly, limping, I approach,
    As the IT with mute reproach

    Big brown eyes towards me lifts,
    And its body slightly shifts,
    And its muzzle on a paw
    Weary lies... I look in awe
    As between her fury bits
    Four blind puppies suck her tits...


    Well, to make the story short
    (my boss screams for his report)
    Missis mongrel - brushed and clean,
    Sleek and shiny, proud and lean,
    At the door I have to ring
    So my slippers she can bring

    (once I tried to skip the rite,
    trust me, she can really bite...),
    After getting me all tame
    Now she teaches, all the same,
    Her plump progenies - the lore
    To pursue for ever more.

    Only there’s a slight hiccup,
    Got my slippers... all chewed up.
    Worry not, I’m not enslaved,
    Human race’s pride I saved,
    ‘Cause in vengeance named them slobs -
    Blobby... and her little... Blobs.

    “And his eyes have all the seeming
    of a demon’s that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming
    throws his shadow on the floor;
    And my soul from out that shadow
    that lies floating on the floor

    Shall be lifted—nevermore!”
    (oh my Lord, and do they snore...
    now I may not have one Raven,
    yet, by now, twelve Blobs unshaven,
    worry not, as I said loud -
    I’m in charge... well, if allowed...)

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The End Of It...

    Lay upon my ears
    All your darkest fears,
    And by the time to moonlight glow
    Falling stars will change to flow
    Of tears,
    Fears will fade for evermore in the worlds of never know...

    Bring into my life
    Sharpest blade of knife,
    And by the time the sun will pry
    Open gates to bluest sky
    For my wife,
    Knives in yielding flesh will sculpt all the magic of the why...

    Ask me now again,
    Things like where and when,
    And by the time my pain’s to rest
    Once you carved my heart from chest
    When the night will paint my eyes you will guide me to your nest...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    You cringe in fear at the pain,
    True, it hurts,
    I know,
    I’ve been there,
    And the only thing I can promise you is the pain,
    A pain such as you’ve never faced before,
    Not even while your child was bursting from your body...

    I don’t want you to face this pain.
    I said “I don’t want you to face this pain,
    I can wait,
    Years, millenniums...”
    You don’t.
    You don’t want to wait millenniums,
    Not even years...
    “Not fair...” you say,
    “Love is happiness,
    Love is pain,
    I knew it the moment my child burst from my body...”
    “I’ve been there,” I say,
    “You can’t become immune to pain,
    It’s dominating your body, your life,
    You can fight it with your spirit
    But you can never conquer it,
    You can make it your ally,
    Forcing it to prove to yourself the sacrifice you’re ready to make,
    And it still hurts,
    You can make it your counsel,
    Letting it guide you through the minefield of truth and illusion,
    And it still hurts,
    You can make it your master,
    Allowing it to decide for you,
    And it still hurts...”
    “I know...” you say,
    “I’ve been there,
    It was my ally and it hurt,
    It was my counsel and it hurt,
    I’ve been there when my child burst from my body...”

    “I’ve been there...” you say,
    “I’ve been there,
    It was never my master,
    It will never be, even if it promises to stop hurting...”

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Touching fingers,
    My rugged fingertips touching your soft ones,
    My right hand creating an asymmetrical steeple with your left,
    Tips to tips,
    Slowly joining the first finger joints, then the middle,
    Then the lower,
    Till your fingers fully lie against mine,
    Snuggling against them,
    Softly, like an inanimate body awakening to life,
    Turning into a storm,
    Like flower touching sun,
    Boiling blood trying desperately to jump the skin barrier
    And join flow, arteries, veins, hearts, heart beats,
    Golden chain link touching golden chain link,
    Mine yours,
    Yours mine,
    Blue arcing light melting the metal,
    Ozone sting in the air,
    A mini sun’s birth at contact point,
    Blinding, cutting through flesh,
    Two rings, one chain, one bondage,
    Slaves of caged passion that no tear can extinguish,
    No word of man, no word of world,
    No word of angel, heaven, or hell,
    Scalding rivers in droplets invading the skin
    As the fingers intertwine,
    Sliding in between each other,
    Patches of flesh peeling away under the unyielding desperate grip,
    Each finding its last resting place in the nook between two others,
    At first stretched like a hunter’s bow cord,
    Then slowly yielding,
    Bending, clasping,
    Palms uniting,
    Life line against life line,
    Birth against birth, death against death,
    Torment against torment,
    A grip, one fist, ten fingers,
    Two bodies,

    The grip eases,
    Each finger reluctantly leaving its prison,
    Each nook reluctantly releasing the prey from its clutches,
    Sliding out,
    Your blood raging in my veins,
    My ring trapping your finger,
    Our life lines knotted into each other,
    One moment,
    A single moment,
    One grain of sand in eternity’s endless hourglass,
    For one single moment we had it all,
    Then the grain of sand slipped between the parting fingers,
    Dragging all eternity with it,
    Like a horse dragging a mountain,
    Like a tear dragging an ocean,
    Like a ray... dragging a sun...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Red And Blue...

    Never met you. Never? Once,
    In the twirl of spinning chance,
    For few seconds... Saw a face,
    A regard of pain and grace,
    Never fore so close I’ve been
    To a queen...

    Never touched you. Never? No,
    Passions wild set eyes aglow,
    In the void of hand till hand
    Armies battle for the land,
    Never fore my life did seem
    Living dream...

    Will I ever?... Will you?... Will
    Racing time the passion kill?
    One sharp ray from sunlight’s bow
    Kill the dream with single blow,
    Far’s the queen, and closed her eye,
    Dead am I...


    Lover dear, your forehead lay
    On my breast and hear my say...
    Never will your never live,
    Your harsh words I you forgive,
    This poor heart bleeds love for you,
    Red and blue...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Hummingbird your hum so sweet,
    Do you come from end of street?
    Hovering around my face,
    No, I ain’t of flowers race,
    And you watch my mouth so straight...
    Oh, one moment, don’t push, wait!...
    Look, I open it a bit...
    What’s this cherry red and sweet
    That inside my mouth you squeeze...
    Hey, your flutter tickles... please...
    Now around my ear you fly
    Whispering... you talk?... oh my...
    That my love from way afar
    Way beyond the northern star,
    With her lips this cherry kissed
    ‘Cause her lover much she missed,
    Then she smiled... the night was torn,
    Then she sang... the sun was born,
    The she called... and you came by,
    Then she begged you - “Fly, bird, fly,
    Over forests, oceans, wend
    To the world’s forgotten end,
    Fly and find my lover’s dwell,
    In your wings this magic spell,
    In your heart this fire lit,
    In your beak this cherry sweet,
    Tell him that one day, not long,
    Fore the summer’s dying song,
    Fore the winter’s biting whip,
    He will taste and slowly sip
    Cherry wine, my kingdom’s best
    From my lips, and from my breast...”

    “Hummingbird, hum close to eye
    Pick a tear before you fly,
    Let it drop into the sea,
    If my lover finds the drop
    She’ll find me.

    Hummingbird, hum close to heart
    Pick a drop of blood and part,
    Let it drop into the sun
    If my lover finds the drop
    I’m the one.

    Hummingbird, hum back your home,
    Time you stop your humming roam,
    Hum into my lover’s ear
    Humming sighs she loves to hear,
    Tell her countless summers by,
    Tell her countless winters fly,
    Tell her countless years I’ll wait
    Humbly begging at her gate,
    Tell her - know I, I’ll be graced
    And one day she’ll grant me taste
    Cherry wine, her kingdom’s best,
    From her lips, and from her breast...”

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Visions Three...

    There was pain in your voice,
    Hidden in a forest of laughter,
    Dressed in multi colored freshly painted clothing of joy,
    All I had to do was push the branches out of way,
    Regard through the transparent fabric,
    And then I could see -
    The pain,
    The questions,
    The denial...

    Your arms outstretched,
    Were your fingers curled in tiny powerful fists,
    Ready to punch holes through life’s steel shell,
    Or stretched open,
    Ready to touch, caress, grab life’s unfulfilled promises?
    All I had to do was touch them...

    Your eyelids lowered,
    Closed eyes seeing the infinite impossibilities,
    The endless hopelessness,
    The nevers, so many, so damn powerful, so mockingly haughty...
    All I had to do was see them...

    Your heart beating like mad gone jungle drums...
    All I had to do was hear the call, listen to it, answer it...

    I heard, listened,
    Can I answer
    And smite the pain, the questions, the denial,
    Carefully lay life’s promise in your arms,
    Cut the never, the hopelessness, into destiny fulfilled,
    Touch your heart, lull it to blessed sleep
    Knowing that tomorrow is the beginning of forever?...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    I remember it,
    Flowing through our veins like wild neighing stallions,
    Thundering hooves echoing between our chests,
    Mouths agape, gulping thirstily mouthfuls of air
    With madness of hurricane reborn,
    Bleeding teeth marks carved on shoulders,
    Fists crushing chest, crushing breast,
    Long bloody trails down arched backs,
    Down hips glued in muscle tearing spasm,
    Down thighs locked in crushing immobility
    While fingers lock to fingers,
    Mouth locks to mouth,
    Chest locks to chest,
    Yesterday locks into today locks into tomorrow...
    Hunger satisfied,
    Passion asleep,
    And only leftover is... absolute, abysmal, bottomless love...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    And when I die,
    And when I hear the rumble of awakening earth no more,
    And when star sparks become a never remembered memory
    And roses perfume the air for all but me,
    I lock the gate,
    Break the key,
    And my forgotten garden decays into blissful nothingness...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


The Stranger...

    Upon a land, upon a time,
              Upon a world ago,
    Where love was banned, when song was crime,
              By king’s decree and law,

    A stranger came one night from far,
              His horse bare hoofed and lean,
    His eye a well, his mouth a scar,
              His blade serrate and mean.

    By midnight late a wooden door
              He pounds with hurting fist,
    “My mouth is dry, my back is sore,
              My way is lost in mist.

    My horse some hay, my self some bread,
              I come away from war,
    A place to lay my weary head
              I’ll pay you goldens four.”

    An iron bolt the silence rips,
              Its rusted age decries,
    Two raven braids, wine ruby lips,
              Twin seas of green sad eyes,
    A pallid hand the candle holds
              “Much hurry, stranger, come,
    Before the night to morn unfolds
              And streets rough up with scum.

    Me follow do...” around she goes
              Three tiny cuddled shapes,
    A gate to back, her head she bows,
              “Some hay, some bread and grapes...”

    Returns her way at hasty pace...
              “Young maiden, wait, your gold...”
    Around she looks with shadowed face,
              “It’s given. Never sold.”

    And then is gone. The dawning sleep
              Cuts man and horse alike,
    But on his face the frown is deep,
              He hears the midnight strike...


    The sun is up. With sudden rage
              He rolls and gets the blade...
    Three pairs of eyes of infant age
              Regard from corner’s shade.

    The horse is brushed, his saddle shines,
              His boots wear glowing sheen,
    He shakes away his question signs
              In water cool and clean.

    To room she comes. A loaf of bread,
              A scrap of crusty cheese,
    A jar of milk, an apple red
              She lays upon his knees.

    The hunger rumble’s three days old,
              He gulps without a sound,
    They watch, the maiden shy and bold,
              The infants crouched to ground.

    The mouth he wipes with back of hand...
              The boots, the sword, the coat,
    He stands, his manner soft and bland
              His eyes away, remote.

    His voice, a thunder’s looming trail,
              “Now tell my begging ear,
    Why yester night from darkness’ veil
              You pulled me with no fear,

    My gold refusing with no shame,
              You fed me, cared my horse,
    A stranger I with not a name,
              My habit torn and coarse?

    What name you’re called?...” “Milay...”
              He sighs, and makes to touch his purse,
    Her tiny fist locks his away...
              “Beg... save them from the curse...”

    She pulls the infants to her fore,
              Two maids, one dreamy knave,
    “In fortnight time, ten dozen score
              Will never know a grave.”

    Deep furrows cross the stranger’s brow,
              “Milay, young maiden, tell
    What yarns your battered spirits plow
              And turn your life to hell?”

    The maiden looks upon his face,
              Her pained, deserted eyes
    The shame of faltering embrace,
              The ailing soul despise.

    “A stranger you, not from this part,
              The first in seven year,
    No living soul or brazen heart
              Has dared and come anear.

    No one of here can ever go,
              No one that comes can leave,
    Your arm is strong, your blade you know,
              Your horse I shoed last eve.

    I beg of you to leave away,
              Take these the infants three,
    And if you ask my price to pay,
              I give myself to thee...”

    Her hand he holds, a shiver glides
              Through body thin and frail,
    “Now tell me maid, and count your strides,
              This cursing evil tale.”


    The sun has moved a quarter sky,
              She talks with eyes ashine,
    A gleam invades the stranger’s eye
              As good with evil twine,

    And through the flow of words of past
              He hears the blare of horns,
    A ruthful king is slain and cast
              His body clad in thorns,

    A ruthless puppet holds to throne,
              And pay tribute he must
    With babies not yet ten years gone,
              The gold, his greed and lust.

    All men to slaves deep golden mines
              Away from light to rot,
    All women slave the endless vines
              Through sun’s afire hot.

    With fear they count the passing nights,
              And hope to never wake,
    But all the wrongs and none the rights
              And hopes are born to break.

    With moon, at midnight’s glowing beam
              Wild parties comes atrot
    To snatch away from infants’ dream,
              The dozens picked by lot.

    And scores of women ripe to bear
              Are raped as night goes through,
    To sound of garment rip and tear,
              To smell of evil brew.

    No place to run, no hole to hide
              About the guarding scum,
    By break of dawn away they ride,
              Behind... just blood, and glum.

    The infants... doomed to slave or whore
              And none will ever turn,
    Some groomed to die in grisly war,
              In foreign lands to burn.

    “One brother have I lost last moon,
              One sister twelve moons past,
    These babies three so very soon
              I’ll see of them the last...

    Oh stranger, by my wish abide,
              So sweet these angels’ seed,
    Reave them from town and westward ride,
              I ask of you and plead...”

    The stranger’s face an iron mask
              His eyes a stormy sea,
    “I have a maid, she is your age...
              What will become of thee?”

    A smile... oh lord of east and west,
              The smile she let arise...
    “This here the dagger in my breast
              Shall strike to my demise...”

    Was this the pride in maiden chest
              Of queenly size and might?
    The stranger’s mind a stormy nest,
              His soul the darkest night.

    Rough hands the deathly blade withdraw
              With gentle, forceful care,
    “At mid of night when wine tides flow
              The road lays dark and bare,

    The hooves I’ll dress in many cloth,
              And out of place I’ll steal,
    You stay behind and dare you not
              To fear or shame to kneel.

    Believe I know to name this land,
              Unfriendly and aloof,
    Its masters dwell hind desert’s sand,
              Its guards bear heavy hoof,

    Yet never word has come to world,
              Of cruelty as such,
    The tale of hurt you here unfurled,
              The deathly evil clutch,

    My king is just, way back from war
              ‘Bout seven days from here,
    Since days unknown and kings of yore
              My land has known no fear.

    All wicked ways to fight and root
              Out lands afar and near,
    He, who by sword lives mean and brute,
              Dislodge by sword and spear.

    Away I rode ahead of mine,
              My heart to kin at home,
    But now this hurt of yours, and thine,
              Makes hell’s tar gentle foam.

    Your land will live, I thus thee pledge,
              Oh, maiden young and brave,
    These are the words I thee allege,
              My oath on mother’s grave”.

    He hugs the infants, small and shy,
              A tiny hand, a kiss,
    He looks the maiden in the eye,
              That fathoms deep abyss...

    “The dagger - here, I lay at gate,
              If takes the road too long,
    And gone the last of time to wait,
              You choose what right what wrong.

    Be blessed child.” The last he spoke,
              And went his horse to tend,
    At mid of night, fore midnight’s stroke,
              He made his way to wend.

    A silent trot of barely hear,
              Got lost down alleys dark,
    A maiden, pale with pride rich fear,
              Scratched down the first day’s mark.


    By seventh day and seventh notch,
              And candles burnt to naught,
    Expectant eyes the mountain watch,
              Is now they here be ought?...

    Then nine, then ten, another rut
              Graved down and wildly cursed,
    Her eye is blank, her spirit shut,
              To death ten candles nursed.

    Come thirteen days, deep thirteenth slash,
              Thick candles light the cell,
    Young grit and heart in anguish crash,
              In fear of coming hell...

    Is fourteen days... and eve a come,
              Lost shapes drag heavy bolts,
    In wait for nearing distant drum,
              Dark fear each soul assaults.

    Where is thy pledge, oh, dark eyed man,
              Where is the oath you made?
    Or did the scare your courage ban
              And sheathed vow and blade?

    Where is thy king, the fearless just,
              The army you have told,
    Or is your promise worth of dust,
              Your words of stenching mold?

    The drums I hear, the raging waste,
              Foul fists lay waste my door,
    This dagger here my breast will taste
              My blood’s to feed this floor,

    Accursed be, your promise vile,
              And damned your house, your seed,
    Your next of kin shall perish, while
              To death... I slowly bleed...


    A sudden hush. A noise so pale,
              A rumble low and mean,
    Is this the sound of nearing hail
              From skies resplendent, clean?

    Or rustle is of flying leaves
              Across the desert sand,
    Of locusts’ swarm that silence cleaves
              Away to rob the land?

    The rumble grows, the rustle highs,
              Is hail? Is leaves? Is swarm?
    Is raising dust that hides the skies
              The bode of breeding storm?...

    Like a waking, stretching lion trading yawn with mighty roar,
    Wakes the thunder over mountains with a giant, fearsome snore,
    Sails a king ahead of armies on a stallion colored night,
    Rides a chieftain hind his banner dark of brow and bold of might,
    Race behind the endless legions like a torrent born of hell
    As it gushes forth and billows in a fearsome sweeping swell,
    Braided manes with woven ribbons stretch to rear with flutter snaps,
    Ointed shields with spiky rivets glint fore gruesome metal caps,
    Thousands hooves bear thousands riders stretching thousands heavy bows,
    Moves the wall of crushing iron cutting lanes through fiendish rows,
    Thousands arms wield thousands maces with a windmill’s shrieking sound,
    Lying waste the guarding towers torn to shreds on rumbling ground,
    Thousands spears cut yielding armor with the ripping sound of hail,
    Thousands swords descend with anger finding bone through rending mail,
    Onward hastes the tidal fury breaking walls and crushing gates,
    Never halting till the war gods gulp the blood that hunger sates.

    The storm has died beneath the sky,
              The clanking and the moans,
    A rushing party gallops by,
              Hooves spark upon the stones,

    Through narrow alleys moving in,
              The silence deep and hard,
    Where scuttling mice leftovers glean
              From drying bones and lard,

    Ahead... a door... a broken hinge,
              A hurried rush inside...
    Three huddled shapes in terror cringe,
              And try in vain to hide.

    Upon the floor an angel sleeps,
              So white the dress, the face,
    The red of life through garment seeps,
              And stains the ruptured lace...


    The dawn has set, the sunset dawns,
              Soft light inside the tent,
    Bird tunes along the rippling lawns
              The silence sweetly dent.

    “I didn’t know that hell could be
              Such tender, warm embrace,
    And waking up beyond I’d see
              Such warm and gentle face.”

    Twin raven braids, wine ruby lips,
              Deep seas of green sad eyes,
    A slender hand the rough hand grips,
              A vise in soft disguise...

    “I cursed your life, I cursed your death,
              I cursed your seed and light,
    I should have cursed my soul and breath...
              You came, your king, your might...”

    The green sad eyes then close, a weak...
              “My kin?...” he smiles... “Unhurt...”
    Twin crystal droplets greet the cheek
              And blaze a trail through dirt.

    Her grip is fierce, unheard the words...
              “And I... who dead should be?...”
    Just hush... no horse, no chirping birds,
              No man, no wind, no tree...

    The sun has stopped mid westward’s rush,
              The grains of time mid fall,
    Her face alight with sunrise blush,
              His fist a fearsome maul.

    He slides his hand towards the stand,
              The dagger stained and keen,
    “The gods of life deceived your hand,
              You missed... one finger thin...

    Your heart is sane, your body young,
              Your wound will heal like none,
    All words of songs so long unsung
              Your soul will flood like one.

    In number dawns you up and mount
              A horse I leave behind,
    As rich of spark as stars uncount,
              As young as you of mind,

    His mane the black of starless night,
              His heart the white of snow,
    His hoof the flame’s ease skywards flight,
              His haste a bolt from bow...

    This land’s one thousand stoneless ways
              Like wildest wind to roam,
    And when too long and many days,
              Return you will your home.

    The freedom’s yours, taste deep, rejoice,
              The fear is out of land,
    Tomorrow’s shape your kinfolk’s choice,
              Let heart be your command.

    In fortnight time to leave I must,
              This dagger tasted blood,
    I leave it here, a pledge of trust...”
              ...And snaps it with a thud.

    The howl of wolves lays day at rest,
              The grief gives heart a wring,
    And silence breeds in maiden chest
              Tomorrow, she will sing.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


My Rose, The Legend, Your Dream...

    In her mouth she took my finger biting gently till it hurt,
    Grave her voice like Sunday’s preaching, yet her eyes were spitting mirth,
    “That’s for having me forgotten...” waving protest out of way,
    “...And for having best of reasons now to kiss the hurt away...”

    Felt her lips a fleeting moment tracing down the mark of teeth,
    While I feigned the throes of terror like the nation’s dimmest wit,
    Then she dragged me... oh my goodness, to that hidden spot of green...
    “No, my love, it’s not for loving, wipe that smug and silly grin.

    Let me nestle ‘gainst your body on the leaves three autumns old,
    Tie my curls around your finger, hundred bands of purest gold,
    And before the evening shadows cloak the world in sparkling night
    Tell me once again the story of the castle and the knight.”

    Closed her eyes, her fragile body working hard to find its nest,
    Then she smiled when moments later found it, tight against my chest,
    Know she knew the curse was raging through her blood two summers strong,
    “One more time...” each day she pleaded, “...need a dream to take along.”

    Touched her shoulder, was it trembling with anticipation’s lust,
    Trusting me to find the colors... “...paint that dream that have... I must!”
    Cleared my throat, that lump of sadness should stay out the gates of dream,
    And the whispers started flowing, building trickle to a stream...

    “Once upon...” she squeezed my fingers spelling delicate delight,
    “Once upon... a spaceship landed...” and she pinched... I screamed, alright!...
    “Once upon... before the mountains...” she just squealed and snuggled close,
    Will my rusty rhyming magic paint the blush back on my rose?...


    «Once upon, before the mountains bartered might for ageless life,
    Much before a thorn my heart pierced and its rose became my wife...»
    Blinding smile... «...time when the oceans rolled the earth three times around,
    And through valleys petals opened with a tinkling, crystal sound,

    In the Ever Morning kingdom ruled the king of Fearless White,
    Proud of castle up a mountain sprinkling fields with misty light,
    White clad armies roving, roaming, spreading peace to Morning’s end,
    White maned horses wildly drifting never caring guide or wend.

    Rides a knight in aimless wander scouting village, town and dwell,
    Prince of Light his name, as fearless as his father... stories tell
    That his sword has tasted dozens hearts from hind the twilight zone,
    And days soon he’ll be bequeathed with the scepter and the throne.

    Black of eye and black of tresses, bronze of skin and bare of foot,
    Shrieks the wind in whirling wonder at his mare of blackest soot,
    Night, the name the horse was given, young of seasons, quick of flight,
    Stolen from the pride of stables yonder way in Ever Night.

    Rides the prince, in seven seasons, time the petals turn to red
    By the laws of days forgotten, he be king, and he be wed,
    Long the kingdom, up the mountains, cross the desert’s burning hole
    Ever looking for a princess, wise of mind, and soft of soul.

    Thousand maidens, brave and pretty, he had met at bid of king,
    None has done his heart aflutter, none be worth of kingdom’s ring,
    Now, with his unsaddled fury black of mane and odd of sight
    Burning leagues along the border with the evil land of night.

    In the distance... lord of blazes... does he see a party’s dust
    Nearing fast the narrow passage cut through mountain’s ageless crust?...
    Riders five. Is... black?... the color streaming back in wake of trot,
    Blasts the fire in his manner and his blood turns frothing hot.

    With a warring yell of anger speeds his mount into the clash,
    Swords to hands , the gleaming metal poses for a deadly slash,
    Sights the party onslaught reaching, fore they time have had to flee,
    Turn about the black maned horses, smooth of shape and high of knee,

    Leads the party one lone rider, hundred paces head of rest...
    Five to one? I did one hundred... blades advance ahead of chest...
    Ten more paces... swishing metal ready is to bite the bone...
    ...Bolts his mount with none of warning... and he crushes down to stone.

    Rushes back the black caped rider shoving others out of way,
    Glides to ground, the blade rides skywards and his cape is shorn away,
    Crawls the prince in torment’s fire, ready is like king to die
    As his gushing blood and anger paint in gold the cloudless sky...

    Paints in gold?... What is this vision I must see before I pass?...
    Witch of sorrows and delusions changing knight to... fairy lass?...
    “Take my life, my pride you’ve taken, cut my chest and kingdom’s brand,
    And return your evil kingdom, prince and horse - your prize be grand...”

    Flowing gold, an angel’s pallor thin like sculpted marble leaf,
    Priceless rubies shaped by masters into lips beyond belief,
    Fire blue, oh, burning passion, pouring out from sorrowed eyes,
    And a whisper that his fury with a feather’s ease defies.

    “Take your life? Like way back seasons, you my horse took like a thief,
    Burrying my heart in sadness with an endless, grinding grief?
    This my horse, that gift was given by my fairy wishing well,
    Day before the Shadows Wizard kiled her with his wicked spell.

    You a prince, or thief of common and your brand a forger’s gold?
    Pick your sword, let’s see your address, if your arm as word is bold.”
    Haste the war-men to surround her... “Back!” she orders, soft her say,
    Grim and mean, counting ten paces as in anger they obey.

    Flint invades the prince’s muscles, fire floods his eyes, unknown,
    “If my swords I pick from rubble, dead you are before you groan...”
    Not a muscle. Not a heart beat. Not a breath betrays her mind,
    Just a blink, his hilts from nowhere in his hands a calling find,

    Rears the horse... the war-men holler... she is waiting slim and tall...
    One swift move... the metal shatters and the dust enwraps its fall.
    Loud’s the silence, was it glimmer in her eyes a moment short
    As her gaze pulled down the fences to his heart’s untrodden fort?

    Is his face hiding the flurry of the flame’s despotic surge
    Crushing like a giant hammer with an evil, pounding urge?
    Is the call of waking thunder just a passing moment’s whim
    Or the starting page of tempest as those hearts with fury brim?

    “Come my princess, horses nearing... white flagged carts are closing fast...”
    “Princess!?...”“Yes, Ei-Leen they name me, black the banner up my mast,
    Fearsome Night my graceful father, for whose sake I live and fight,
    And your enemy... forever. Fare thee well, the Prince of Light.”

    Boots unlacing, bare of ankle in one graceful move she mounts...
    “Night I called her...” “Night I called her...” and her anger no more counts
    As she leans, the mane caressing, softly chanting in the ear,
    Suddenly the muscled body long its spine begins to shear,

    Slowly, wedges start protruding, linked by tense and shiny hide,
    Pacing forward ever faster, changing pace to trot, to glide...
    “But you missed the word of magic...” calls her voice as up they climb,
    One black horse, the gift of magic, one proud princess in her prime...

    Waits the prince, his faithful war-men rush ahead to join his side,
    “Witch?...” “Oh, no, the lass your queen was...” and his smile starts spreading wide,
    As they wonder... “Are you hurt prince?” “Yes.” he says and mounts a cart.
    “Deadly. Twice. My pride was shattered. And the second time - my heart.”

    At the castle, up the stairways skipping stairs in twos and threes,
    “Lord my father, where’s your hiding, ‘cause my heart’s a summer breeze,
    Bride I found, I need your blessing, need your wisdom’s guiding steer,
    Mother sweet, your understanding, and the warmth I so revere...”

    “Is it true?” the king’s soft thunder rumbles slowly through the halls,
    At his side, with age-set beauty, lights the queen the somber walls,
    “It is true. I beg your pardon, time and time you said you pray
    That the peace rules long the twilight, hold to put to kill and slay,

    Wild of ways I’ve been and rowdy, keeping back from getting wise,
    This to be the path of learning was my foolish, blind surmise,
    Then it came – that elfin moment, almost none in passing time,
    I have learned the truth of living with my nose rubbing in slime...

    Lord my father, queen my mother, is my wish to offer truce
    Ever Night, its king, its people, ban from land all war, abuse,
    Proud Ei-Leen, sweet wildest fairy, offer her my heart, my hand,
    Offer her my throne and scepter, offer her my home, my land.”

    Grave of face and hard of burden, takes the king his son to chest
    Watching queen’s majestic bearing and her lips in pain compressed,
    Speaks the king... “Light Wizard’s dwelling is the place thou now shallt go,
    Now the time the kingdom’s telling thou shall find and thou shall know.

    Go!” He turns, his manner smitten, in his stride a squalid lurch,
    And the queen hangs back a moment... “Trust your heart, reach deep, and search.”
    Puzzled, troubled, life’s first furrow cuts the young man’s clouding brow
    Time has come to stop my looking. Time has come for knowledge. Now.


    High above the castle’s towers, way beyond an eagles’ nest,
    Gropes for hold the climbing figure, tired muscles scream for rest,
    On he crawls, his bleeding fingers carry shards of broken stone,
    Gushing cuts adorn his body to the depths of gleaming bone,

    One more cliff, then one more valley, then the last of hanging rocks...
    On the silent dwelling’s adit first he leans, and then he knocks,
    “If to ask your way you come here, then be gone or be to dust,
    If to know you come, be entered, and my ways you’ll have to trust...”

    “Come to learn...” the prince calls weakly, and the gate then screeches in,
    In the dusk - a tiny figure, ageless old and ageless thin,
    At a sign, a gleaming chalice serves the cracked and gaping mouth,
    “You, the first that ever mounted through the deadly cliffs to south.”

    “I the first to burn for knowledge, I the first to ache be told,
    I the first to reach my castle wants before my blood runs cold,
    You have taught my king and father, and his father fore of that,
    Back throughout the changing seasons to the day the world was flat,

    This as much my tutors told me - write and read, and fight, and rule,
    But the greatest of them riddles stayed beyond the reach of school,
    Why is Morning, Night, and Twilight, why is war and blood and strife,
    Why my heart’s call can’t I follow, and Night’s princess call my wife?”

    “Prince of Light, first drink the water, then be seated, then await
    And the knowledge you be given through your spirit’s open gate.
    Then your mind will have the reason and your spirit come awake,
    But let heart to be the master of the path your life will take.

    Ei-Leen, princess, is aseated with Night Wizard, cross the ridge,
    She has come with quest for knowledge, looking for a saving bridge,
    Fate has played a cruel caper on two hearts unripe to fend,
    None the cure in wands of magic, one this wound and none the mend.”

    Drinks the prince the breezy water, eyes hang heavy, slows his breath,
    “Did you poison me, oh, wizard... is your learning worth of death?...”
    Asks... his head falls on the table and his spirit starts to spin,
    As his mind uncovers knowledge soaked in pain, in lust, in sin.

    Thousands seasons fore his birth time, fore the wizards scribed the laws,
    Mighty were both Night and Morning, drunk with kingdom’s rule and cause,
    Knights in shining, fearsome armor waiting for the word of king,
    Riding horses struck with magic, struck with mighty spawn of wing.

    Armies lining endless borders mounted proud on horses tall,
    White of mane this side of mountain, black of mane beyond the wall,
    Each, the wilderness of Twilight wished to conquer to its needs,
    Twilight... land of magic forests, there the winged horse lives and breeds.

    Three the wizards, great of power, Light this side, and Night beyond,
    Greater still - the Shadows master, ruled that land where magic spawned,
    Ten the scores they human folly reined with cast of mighty spells,
    But the greed and thirst for glory burned like thousand wicked hells.

    Ten the scores they herded horses white as snow or black as coal,
    Offering as gift to armies hard of brow and dry of soul,
    Ten the scores they linked by marriage Morning house with house of Night,
    Followed by abhorrent slaughter in that never ending fight.

    Thousand thousands died in battles in an ever present roar,
    Deathly plagues, and devastation raised the count by many score,
    Till that time the wizards counseled with an ire burning eyes,
    Time has come to end the slaying or it’s time for world’s demise.

    Mountains steep both sides of Twilight they had forged at move of hand,
    Narrow passages for riders, just a few through moving sand,
    Then the laws, those rules of terror for all human taking breath,
    Quarter none and one the verdict, all offenders put to death.

    No winged horse be sold or given, be it mount to prince or king,
    No more herds be lead to battle, bloody triumphs home to bring,
    No more arrow hail cascading like a torrent from the sky...
    No pretense, if vain if valid. Those who break the law will die.

    No more marriage Night to Morning, be it servant, knight, or king,
    No more vows, no youths to couple if by promise if by ring,
    No more infants born in fury, left to live the breaking tie...
    No pretense, if vain if valid. Those who break the law will die.


    Wakes the prince, his fever fading, cries his heart, his body hurts,
    From his princely cot hang tatters, once his silken pricey shirts,
    “Oh, dear mother, need your softness, need your loving, gentle guide,
    Whence I got inside the castle, wheresoever shall I ride?...

    Cuts my chest a nonesuch passion for a lass I once have seen,
    Burn my insides, and a craving splits my body heart to spleen,
    Grips my father’s fathers vileness this damned world in iron’s claw,
    And it weighs like seven mountains this accursed wizard’s law.

    Is bewitched I? beg, tell me, let my head upon your lap,
    Hide my shameful tears from daylight with your garment’s perfumed flap,
    I have never known such beauty lied in foe’s bedeviled lands,
    I would give my life and kingdom for one touch of Ei-Leen’s hands...”

    Pale’s the queen’s autumnal beauty, tenderly she holds his head,
    Bathe her eyes in endless sorrow for a dream forever dead,
    Joyful visions, wedding, sucklings... changed to fright of morrow’s time,
    Once, my womb with life he shredded, now with death, with love, with crime.

    “Rush to stables, there your father waits for you with grief and pride,
    Know! he loves you. And would gladly give his life and take your side.
    Now he knows you of his breed are, fit to be majestic king,
    He who loves with no regretting, is befit to wear his ring.

    Go son, hide. And may the powers laying wrath in wizards’ hands
    Guide your step and watch your spirit and your path through shifting sands.”
    Down the steps, along the columns, knowing not what there awaits
    Through the passes, through the garden, on through stable’s wooden gates,

    Running lightly among horses, stalwart foals and sires proud,
    White of mane and wild of spirit, neigh and clamor turning loud,
    There, behind a corner’s hiding, shines the king’s confounded stare,
    By his side, staining the shadows, one black-maned and shining mare...

    “Night I called her...”, “Night I called her...” ...what’s this echo strange of sound
    Bouncing from the graceful figure cladding black on pales profound,
    At her side... oh, wizard magic, sharing sides with Fearless White,
    Wrinkled, huge, yet bowed and weary, lurks the mighty Fearsome Night.

    “Ei-Leen...”, “Prince...”, they clash in ardor with the human side of beast,
    Smashing mouths and clutching fingers wrapping each to iron fist...
    “Hurry children, mount, be vanished, draws the season to an end
    When the wrath for deeds forbidden does arise and does impend,

    Hide among the herds of Twilight, shepherded by fairies kind,
    None but them shall know your dwelling, as in love you stay entwined,
    Lose these worlds and live your passion, forests green and waters blue,
    And if day will come to perish, you have lived your fire through.

    Mount... now go!... your kings command you...” and the trot bolts Twilight’s way,
    Fade the shapes, black mane aflutter, and the black gives way to grey.
    Back, the grizzly wizened faces of two enemies of old
    Fight a bitter, losing battle with an eye once dry and cold.


    Twilight... home to none but fairies, wild the horses, thick the herds,
    Where the sky is thick with stallions chasing fast eschewing birds,
    Roaming fields, no snares, no wires, battling fiercely wild and free,
    And for long and magic moments rubbing necks in tender spree.

    Fragile fairies, chasing horses, riding swarms of butterflies,
    Sprying with a boundless vigor down to earth and up to skies,
    Playing tunes like crystal water gushing out of rocky springs
    Dripping down from mountain summits long a harp’s enchanted strings.

    Mid the whirlwind, mid the valley, mid the racing colored wings,
    Night is pacing, neighing softly, with a peace befit of kings,
    On her back a prince, a princess, budding life demands its right,
    Soon a crying human infant will raise fists towards the light.

    They have bathed in the shadows, skins alight with cooling dew,
    They have dived amid of rivers tinting flesh a bluish hue,
    They have loved atop the mountain melting snow to steaming stream,
    They have burnt with raging passion through a rock’s smoldering seam,

    There’s no world, no time, no anguish, only rivers sparkling by,
    Know they know that new life’s coming calls the time to come and die,
    On a bed of crimson flowers, screaming life, the infant’s born,
    Slowly, crosses Night the border, hushes Twilight, sad, forlorn.

    In the hall, big candles shiver, strewing scents of creeping blight,
    King of Night and Queen of Morning, King of Morning, Queen of Night,
    On a dais three wizards, silent, tiny figures throbbing might,
    On the floor, the infant sleeping, proud Ei-Leen, and Prince of Light.

    Thin the wizard’s voice, and feeble, of unblinking eye and mind,
    “This, the infant, Night to Morning in one kingdom’s might will bind,
    Rule will make the law of justice, loved will be by beast and man,
    Never’s been such peaceful joyance since the age that time began.

    Law is law, and all are equal. No absolving is to come,
    Yet from this the moment onward - old to new, to life succumb,
    Old - the rules of world will vanish, new - the rules we here decree,
    Roll will night and roll will morning, round the world for all to see,

    Prince of Light, you’ll dress the morning, bound to light for evermore,
    Ei-Leen princess, night your dwelling, light for you comes nevermore,
    Prince of Light, the Sun we name you, Ei-Leen... Starlight, like nonesuch,
    Evermore each other chasing, nevermore each other touch.

    Long as ever is your passion, long as ever Sun, you burn,
    Letting fires of damnation through your insides coil and churn,
    Scorless hearts will sing your glory, scorless names for you be found,
    Scorless times you’ll reach for Starlight, reaching none but grief profound.

    Beautiful beyond description, Starlight, you will nights adorn,
    Lone and lost inside the sparkle that your passion’s blaze will mourn,
    Scorless hearts will sing your beauty praising your infinite charms,
    Never will you feel the fire of your Sun’s embracing arms.”

    To this day, the Sun in fury chases vainly Starlight’s love,
    Fire pouring in his madness, scorching worlds from way above,
    And in vain craves gentle Starlight, day to day, a moment’s bliss,
    All she can is sprinkle dew tears, which he dries with fire’s kiss...»


    Now you smile... Your knuckles tremble, holding tight the rose I bought
    Years ago from that old gypsy, when my eye your blue smile caught,
    Never did you leave that withered... crumbling... rotting... broken stem
    Far from hand, from eye, from bosom... your most treasured gift and gem.

    Now I can... My hand glides slowly to your left. Your thunder’s dead.
    Like the rose my body crumbles, in your hair I sink my head,
    Damn the curse and damn the battle that you lost with queenly grace,
    Damn the angels that are singing in your warm and sad embrace,

    Now you know... And I will wonder till my hand you’ll take and guide,
    Did my dream join rose-dust perfume on that long, eternal ride,
    Did you find a happy ending, one for which your heart did yearn,

    «When the sun does touch the starlight and in love and flames they burn?...»

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    When the stardust turned to dust,
    When the rainbow lost its bow,
    When the passion changed to pass,
    When we lost the we in us,

    When the smiles got lost in miles,
    When the endless shed its less,
    When the beauty ceased to be,
    When we lost the us in we,

    When a lover says it’s over,
    When you’re lost in heaven’s haven,
    When the flow of flowers dries,
    And when paradise just... dies...


    I look at the note in my hand.
    It carries tear stains. And crumpling signs.
    As if it was almost thrown away and then, nevertheless, sent.
    I looked at it as it started smoldering,
    Then a small flame consumed the thin paper, turning into a towering fire,
    Burning my fingers,
    Burning my arms, reaching my chest...
    I screamed in pain and jumped into the river,
    To extinguish the fire, to cool the burned flesh,
    Cool, cool...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


My Brother Icarus...

    I take off my shoes,
    My socks,
    Shed my trousers,
    Lose my shirt,
    Tear my underwear,
    Naked. At the edge of the cliff. The world stretching before me, wide.
    I raise my arms to the sky,
    Raise my eyes,
    Waiting for a sign from a God that is not there,
    Waiting nevertheless,
    Maybe I invented him and he will,
    But I invented him and he will not...

    I fly,
    Looking for signs of Icarus,
    He did not fall, he is still flying,
    I heard him calling to me, he is there asking for me to join him,
    Icarus, my brother, here I come,
    My wings my hands, my sails my dreams,
    My anchor my life,
    I fly...

    My hands flap, uselessly,
    My sails billow as powerless as giant white clouds,
    My anchor takes hold of my body and pulls me down,
    Faster, faster, mother earth rising to meet me, to hug me in its mighty embrace,
    Take me mother,
    Gather my strewn body parts into your warm lap,
    Smother me with your endless love,
    Make me forget my endless love...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    I cut a thin slice of heart,
    It did not hurt, it was so thin...
    I shaped it, perforated it, made it into a square stamp,
    Glued it to my email and sent it.
    You smiled, you were not surprised to get it,
    Of course not,
    You picked the thick album out of your computer,
    Page three thousand four hundred sixty seven,
    Fifth row, carefully placed it there next to the previous one,
    So many were there...

    You leafed through the album’s pages,
    Backwards, throwing glances at this stamp, then this one,
    Here... this one, a thin slice of heart shaped as a smiley,
    When I told you I love you for the one thousandth time,
    What an event it was, you did not even pay attention we were already there...
    And this one, a tinge of blue merging with the red,
    When I called you and you were not there...
    And the red turned blue... when you told me of your pain,
    And I found your pain painting my heart in your season’s colors...
    The fiery heart shaped one, when I told you I love you for the first time,
    The flame shaped, when we made love...
    Back to the first pages, not even slices of heart yet, but dried out drops of blood,
    Thin stains, telling of the future editions, the future stamps,
    The red, deep, final editions,
    A huge collection,
    Worthless to others,
    Priceless to you.

    You answered.
    I picked your stamp and put it in my album
    Do you know that most of your heart is already in my album?
    And mine in yours?

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Killing The Bird...

    Wild, roaming the skies, the forests,
    Sneaking like an arrow through mountain high gales
    And emerging breathlessly on the other side,
    Swishing like a sword through thick flower highways
    And climbing effortlessly into the unending blue roof of the world,
    Sparkles rich, melodies rife,
    Reveling in the day’s birth as in the day’s death,

    She found me.
    She sat on my shoulder.
    She started singing the sun in my ears,
    She started picking grains from my hand,
    I fell in love with a wild bird,
    She loved the warmth, the safety of my shoulder,
    Taking off for short moments only to land again,
    In the same spot,
    Singing, picking grains, singing...

    One day, she was shot.
    She could flee, she could fly away, save herself,
    But she prefered to land back on my shoulder,
    Red drops of blood staining my shirt,
    She didn’t want to go back into the wilderness,
    She just waited, singing relentlessly,
    Looking at me with a question in her eyes,
    My trembling hand unable to stop the terrible dripping dance,
    Much as I tried.
    Till it stopped by itself.
    She died.
    And I died with her.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    She is bleeding,
    To death. Her body wound opening a gushing cut in her spirit,
    Ripping like a bottomless ravine the landscape of her soul,
    Wide mouthed, rough edged, shrieking
    While dreams fly away,
    Hopes dwindle to nothing,
    Tomorrows absorb a lusterless blue crust,
    And consuming passion turns to candle flicker...

    I try to cover the opening,
    With my hands, feet, my whole body,
    Clutching at her passing dreams and hopes,
    Trying to grab some tomorrows,
    Some sparks of the dimming passion...

    She smiles, she knows, she regrets,
    And she walks through my fields, through her garden,
    Picking my flowers, inhaling their fragrance,
    And dying,
    Each breath a bit of poison,
    A bit of why, of if, of could have been, of never.

    And I let her go, knowing
    That my only right
    Is being part of the departing dreams,
    And joining her
    In the wide gaping mouth of eternity
    Where she promises to wait for me.

    She won’t wait for long.
    Because the night descending on her landscape
    Will engulf me,
    Carrying me to our wedding bed, soft, dark, eternal...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Clouded White...

    I’m drawing lines,
    I’m drawing points,
    I’m drawing circles, curves and joints,
    And shapes connect,
    And shapes get born,
    And shapes get thick... (my pencil’s worn...),
    The page gives in,
    The page sounds trite,
    The page reflects the broken light,
              Like clouded white...

    I read the words,
    I read the lines,
    I read the spell in sentence shrines,
    Then add a sign,
    Then add a tone,
    Then add a joke, a sigh, a groan,
    A poem’s smile,
    A poem’s light,
    A poem’s birth through misty night,
              Like clouded white...

    You sit and smile,
    You sit and read,
    You sit and drink with thirsty greed,
    The mumbled words,
    The mumbled coughs,
    The mumbled hiccups, curses, laughs,
    I see your joy,
    I see your plight,
              Like clouded white...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Visions Four...

    Comfortable darkness surrounds me.
    I close my eyes allowing myself perfect vision,

    I float around seeing, unseen,
    Lifting corners of walls and peeking into houses -
    Laughter, blinking lights, crystal clinking in well wishing toasts,
    Hugs, kisses...
    I float around, house after house, table after table,
    World after world...
    Wait! I shout suddenly,
    As unexpectedly my heart storms out of chest
    Splashes against a concrete wall and tries desperately to cling to it,
    To break through it
    Veins whipping wildly
    Blood spluttering like rivers gone berserk,
    Wait! I shout,
    Wait... I whisper,
    Wait, I think, as my mind takes control
    And calms its beat, slows its rush, lets it return to its protected cage
    Where it lies down in wait again,
    Undisturbed sleep slowly re-conquering its hidden recesses,
    Knowing, believing,

    My eyes have seen it too,
    The shy, secret, misread smile,
    As she has seen unseen me
    And that unspoken promise flowed from her lips to my blind eyes
    Where all could see
    But none could find,
    And none could guess
    And none could know,
    None... but my heart...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


As You Lay...

    As you lay in blinding sunshine
    Shreds of cloth hugging your thighs
    Helpless witnesses to passion
    Burning paths through heaven’s vice,
    Mangled ribbons laced with satin
    Shapeless bundles rolling ‘way
    From a pallid breast’s surrender
    To a hungry mouth of prey...

    As you lay on pebble mattress
    Fangs of stone branding your back
    And with thousand rugged edges
    Yielding flesh to pieces hack,
    Depths of chest a storm arising
    Gaping mouth a song of screams
    Body trashing as the fire
    Through the veins demented streams...

    As you lay in naked glory
    Glowing softly eye to bone
    Fingers soft as rose’s petals
    Crushing fingers hard as stone,
    Wounded lips asking forgiveness
    For one whisper gone astray
    Riding wings of thunder rolling
    Lonely word... lone whisper... Stay!...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Soft light,
    The darkness stabbed by hundreds of candles spread over the floor,
    Flames waving, dark thin smoke drawing black shaky lines to the ceiling
    While your long silk dress flutters around your legs as you move,
    As you dance to a barely heard all engulfing sound,
    Your bare feet finding their way among the candles with animal ease,
    Toes testing the fire for seconds then leaping away in short stabs of pain,
    The dress
    Times touching the flame and your hands swiftly putting out the first spark signs,
    Times flowing upwards carried by the hot smoke
    Revealing sharp flesh lines along your knees
    Soft flesh lines along your thighs
    For long seconds before in mock shame you pull it back down to your ankles.

    You approach,
    As I lie down propping my head against the wall,
    You half pirouette above me,
    For seconds shadowed glimpses of rounded pieces of heaven blinding my mind
    Swiftly disappearing inside folds of partly charred waves of silk,
    You pirouette again and again,
    Painful wants hitting me again and again
    When you land your burden of femininity upon my chest,
    My face lost in the folds of your garment,
    One single thin layer separating my senses from the shadowed mysteries
    of your body,
    Drunkenly taking in the mix of sweet roses soap smell
    And wild female hunger fragrance.

    You roll on the couch, alongside me, your thighs revealed,
    Your left shoulder strap fallen from the snowy heights of your shoulder,
    Your eyes reflecting the hundreds of flames in a sea of awakening fearsome fire,
    I see your dress disintegrating before my eyes in one magician’s move,
    Soft mounds of flesh dressing your chest proudly stabbing the air
    with their fire tips
    Filling my lungs with ancient sinful blaze, while my eyes follow their punishing trail
    Down the lines of your navel, your curving waist,
    Your hidden corners of revealed passion,
    Flickering shadows enacting visions of winged dragons about to rip my chest
    As you lean towards me, above me, tempting my senses into insane oblivion,
    Your flesh shivering with delayed lust,
    Controlled madness pouring from your lips over my yielding hard body,
    I lie in wait,
    I count every single hair on your eyelashes, your eyebrows
    Watching fearfully the incisive whiteness of your teeth approaching my mouth,
    Biting deep till we both feel the dripping blood running down my chin,
    Terrible pain mingled with winds of lust as you search my body,
    Finding undeniable evidence to a crime about to happen,
    Moving my arms around your back
    Begging me to squash you inside the thickness of my skin, into my body,
    Letting scorching breath burn my eyelids into the misery of ending lust,
    Of ending passion,
    Of quiet, contentment, love.

    Your head on my chest.
    My fingertips counting the endless traces of dying pleasure
    As they roll and roll and roll along the uncovered paths of your skin.

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...



    Going by,
    Minutes, hours, days... Lost to the world, lost to us,
    One day more of nothing, one day less of everything.
    I open my eyes, your eyes are closed,
    I dream, do you?
    I close my eyes, you open yours,
    I dream, do you?
    Flowing numbness invades the senses,
    The touch, the sight... is pain a sense?
    Probably it is not,
    Immune to numbness, pitiful in its vainglory,
    Boasting arrogantly the meaningless conquest of my mortality,
    Dying with me, each day closer,
    Getting there,
    In days, hours, minutes...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...


Thoughts Of You...

    Seeing you,
    A shadow passing, softly caressing your brow,
    Startled you regard... then smiling, eyes you close, because you know,
    In the blue
    And placid haven that your eyelids fiercely guard,
    Splashed a whispered thought, devouring, like a misplaced sunrise shard.

    Curled your lips
    In ever wonder at the ripened seed of blaze,
    Pouring stems of bundled brightness while the skin turns blushing maze,
    As it creeps
    Around your body plunging feelers deep your blood,
    Dressing whispers cloth of thunder, dressing teardrops boiling flood...

Sweet Drops, Bitter Drops...