Hobbies - Poetry - BitterSweet3
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Letters, One...

    She looks at me, questioning.
    I smile,
    I smile at another woman,
    Tell jokes, dance,
    Share my philosophy of life over a glass of beer,
    Exchange niceties, letters.

    She looks at me.
    She smiles,
    She reads beyond the artifice of my smile,
    She knows that hiding behind the jokes, the dance,
    Sunk into the beer and coloring the philosophy
    And unwritten in the letters
    Cowers a forgotten little boy
    Madly in love with her
    Afraid of the distance,
    Afraid of time,

    She knows,
    Willing to forgive the unforgivable
    Knowing there is nothing to forgive,
    Willing to love through the impossible
    Knowing there is so much love to share,
    Willing to wait,
    Knowing for sure that there is a maybe...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Letters, Two...

    Do I fear your thunder,
    Your slashing claw penetrating my chest
    And cutting through my entrails looking for the heart,
    Do I fear your fire,
    Your storming armies crashing down my castle’s walls
    And ravaging my fleshless body with endless streaking arrows?

    No. I fear not.
    What I fear... is your pain.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Letters, Three...

    You lifted your hand
    To touch my face,
    You tried...
    Empty fragrances filling up your cupped palm
    Sifting through your fingers, uncontrollable
    Like memories of me,
    Fading into the daily city hum,
    Petrol fumes,
    And telephone bills.

    You screamed,
    Nobody heard you but you screamed,
    Your fists punching tiny holes in phrases your mouth formed
    Bringing about raised eyebrows from your listeners
    So used to your blinding brilliance
    And unperturbed smiles,
    So unlike you.

    You closed your eyes,
    Looking at me with fairies’ words
    Creating realities the way they should have been
    In worlds where there is no past, no memories,
    No regrets,
    Only fairies, unicorns, lovers.
    A legend.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Airport Memories...

    Thousands of people,
    Well, maybe I exaggerate a bit,
    Hundreds, ok?
    Doesn’t matter, I am alone...
    Rushing to the planes, flooding the shops,
    Eating, drinking, smoking...
    I am alone.

    Just a pen, a piece of paper for company,
    A bunch of memories doubtful in their veracity
    Chasing each other merrily,
    Trying to seduce me with a fixed unblinking stare
    And build a past out of disconnected crumbs,
    Vision snippets,
    Dream flashes stolen from dreamless nights,
    Build a future maybe?
    Memories of a future to come...
    Wouldn’t it be magnificent to remember my tomorrow?

    Why do you stare at me?
    Are you a crumb off my past,
    A vision snippet, a stolen dream?
    Are you a memory reaching back from a distant tomorrow
    Begging me to believe in your reality?

    Your fingers touch me, they are cool... so odd...
    I remember fire, I tell you,
    Why are your fingers cold?
    You remember true, you say,
    You remember yesterday.
    And you are tomorrow and tomorrow is cold?
    Oh, no, tomorrow is fire, yes, I am tomorrow, I know.
    And your fingers? I ask.
    You hesitate, a memory hesitating to remember,
    Then you touch me again,
    I wince in pain, it is hot, the burn sign on my skin swelling,
    I am your memory, you say,
    Your choice,
    Yesterday or tomorrow,
    Cold or hot,
    Sometimes you remember wrong,
    Sometimes you forget,
    Sometimes you refuse to believe
    But you can never deny me, I am your memory.

    I start, reading the words I laid down on paper
    Did I dream it all?
    And then I know, I remember,
    My tomorrow, my choice,
    My life to come,
    Is the fact that I smile reason to believe I like it?
    No. It is reason to believe that I believe in it.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    The miles,
    Once so short, I see them swelling,
    Insignificant distances become measurable,
    Inches become yards,
    Words lose their power as whispers need be shouted
    Changing shared intimacy into incoherent meaningless rumble.

    I reach out
    Testing the distance with a phrase,
    Then several phrases,
    Then a poem,
    Measuring the distance by the intensity of the echo,
    Is there an echo at all,
    Are the tiny vibrations I sense sign of departing mountains
    Or pure noise emanating from a non returning answer
    Lost... or never voiced?

    I sit down.
    I will wait.
    I know my physics,
    I will close my eyes waiting for the miles to shrink again to inch size,
    Then to nothing size,
    Then to nothing.
    I don’t have even to open my eyes.
    I keep whispering
    Words, phrases, poems,
    And when I hear my whisper returning
    I will know she is back.

    If I don’t hear, you ask?
    Well, by then I will probably not have to open my eyes anymore.
    You see, by then I will be beyond caring.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Lady K...

    Lady K, your blue of eye,
    Desert’s lonely piece of sky,
    Jails behind its silken bars
    Passions deep as mountains high,
    Bleeding scars.

    Lady K, your red of blood
    Painting sun’s ascending flood
    Claws its way inside your tears
    Streaming like volcano’s mud,
    Burning fears.

    Lady K, your white of wing,
    Pure like mountain’s icy spring,
    Soothes my craze inside your nest
    As you hug my golden ring
    To your breast.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


If You Knew...

    Miss you days and miss you nights
    Miss you wrongs and miss you rights
    Answer not my puzzled frown
    Answer not my rusting crown
    Vanquish depths of fading fears
    Vanquish depths of crawling years
    Enter proud a life’s main door
    Enter proud awaiting shore
    Tell me when your smile is lone
    Tell me when your love is gone.

    Come and knock upon my gate
    Come and make me share your fate
    Hover soft and touch my brow
    Hover soft inside my vow
    Ask me when I up and go
    Ask me not of things you know
    In the depths of ever more
    In the years of endless score
    Miss you wrongs and miss you rights
    Miss you days and miss you nights.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Sons Of...

    Inside of garden’s broken fence
    I saw you feeding sons of dog,
    To magic lands of no pretence
    I lost you.
    Whence this blinding fog?

    Amidst of forest’s fallen trees
    I saw you feeding sons of deer,
    The call of sweet enticing breeze
    You followed.
    Whence this steaming tear?

    Behind of window’s tarnished pane
    I saw you feeding sons of man,
    Your smile I tried to paint in vain,
    You’re fading...
    Whence this fear... you can?...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Smilin' Rose O' winds...

    Take my money, take my gold,
    Take my ring of age untold,
    Take my diamonds counted three,
    Never take my horse from me.

    Sunset red merged sunrise white
    Fierce a mare of footstep light
    Copper mane through coal black eye
    Roaming wild the mountain’s sky
    Till with early morning’s dew
    Rides my way the tameless shrew.

    Sweating rump craves for my hand,
    Angry hooves my shoulder brand,
    With mischievous equine charm
    Glinting teeth rip half my arm,
    Flaring nostrils touch my chest...
    What’s that neighing rising west?
    When she bounces way from me
    Ever mine, and ever free...

    Take my honor, take my pride,
    Take my joy an ocean wide,
    Take my dreams high mountains three,
    Never take my dog from me.

    Moonless black merged snowball stain
    Fierce a bitch of devil’s grain
    Ploughing scars down shiny bone
    Drilling gaze hard river stone
    Depth of forest out she comes
    Growling death around me hums.

    Hanging tongue attacks my face,
    Begging paws my caress chase,
    With mischievous canine charm
    Curling fangs rip half my arm,
    Rubs against my legs the beast...
    What’s that howling rising east?
    When she bolts away from me
    Ever mine, and ever free...

    Take my reason, take my heart,
    Take my soul to rip apart,
    Take my life ten years times three,
    Never take my mate from me.

    Wheat field gold merged fathoms blue
    Fierce a woman hot of brew
    Dripping honey long of drop
    Spitting fire rich of crop
    Holds my path this blinding gleam
    Magic born of wildest dream.

    Gliding hands raise torments deep,
    Brushing lips long fingers creep,
    With mischievous feline charm
    Shining pearls rip half my arm,
    Snuggles close against my mouth...
    What’s that laughter rising south?
    When she tears away from me,
    Ever mine, and ever free...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


A Drop Of Magic...

    Above my head a tiny cloud...
    Whence born its thunder deep and loud
    As fore my eyes it turns to drop,
    So strangely proud?

    I gaze inside the grain of rain...
    Amid a wide and barren plain
    A waving hand beckoning in,
    Am I insane?

    I try to find a hidden door...
    The drop has soaked into the floor
    The waving hand fading and gone
    Forever more.

    I watch the drying stain aghast,
    One instant’s magic... then it passed,
    I’ll never know what might have been
    Tomorrow’s past.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Lilac For Me, For You A Rose...

    You said you’re lost inside my love,
    The garden’s grown a bit too wild,
    Red gaping wounds adorn the walls,
    A chilling breeze of perfumes mild
    Disturbs you, child.

    You said the paths had grown too wide,
    Alien flowers freshness rife
    Of strident colors loud of mouth
    Are waging war in mindless strife,
    You’re sad, my wife.

    You said my hand has tended weed
    While buds from red to yellow fade
    And glaring sun burns desert stains
    Amid the beds of broken shade,
    You cry, my maid.

    Just tell me word, and bare of hand
    I’ll rip all roots beneath, above,
    I’ll mend the walls and plough the paths,
    Torn, bleeding flesh my tender glove,
    For you, my love.

    Just pray my eye, and drops of blood
    Will paint the seed’s short dreamless doze,
    And as it soaks away my life
    Will burst, will sprout... my eyes will close...
    Lilac for me,
    For you a rose...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Once Upon...

    Once upon a time
    You begged me for a smile,
    If blue as teardrops in your eyes
    If long as long’s the Nile.

    Once one early spring
    You read my rhyme aloud,
    And mixing sigh with whispered verse
    You wove a silken shroud.

    Once my garden’s floor
    I paved with words for you,
    With kites attached to flower stems
    Revelling in the dew.

    Once I was a king
    My kingdom was your heart,
    Proud vowel knights on poem’s land
    Obeyed my humble art.


    Once upon a time,
    Once one early spring,
    Once my garden’s floor,
    Once I was a king.


    Yes, once upon a time
    I begged you for a smile,
    My eyes of tears are barren now,
    My soul is bare of guile.

    Yes, once one early spring
    I read your rhyme aloud,
    I learned to cower in my skin
    And hide from sight of crowd.

    Yes, once your garden’s floor
    You paved with words for me,
    A chilly breeze now whips my brow
    Through cracks no others see.

    Yes, once you were a king
    Your kingdom was my heart,
    My wish obey, I beg of you,
    My heart do take. Then part.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Poetic Ends...

    I often wondered how the end would look like.

    Poetic promises changing into literary sentences,
    Sentences changing into randomly disconnected words,
    Words disintegrating into their basic components of
    Vowels, consonants,
    Of impeccable calligraphy and meaningless reason
    Like exploding pellets from a shotgun with no independent mind of their own
    Screeching the way broken pebbles would grate between teeth
    Before sinking indifferently in the flesh
    Cutting veins, heart, life...

    The end,
    When the only meaningful message left
    Hides undecipherable inside the twenty six letters of the abc...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Colors Mill...

    I danced with a woman,
    Her feet on the ground,
    I was floating,
    Her eyes closed,
    I was looking behind her eyelids
    Straight into her dreams,
    Black and white
    With stains of forest green wherever I dared touch them.

    I sang with a woman,
    Her mouth smiling,
    I was echoing her smile,
    Her eyes closed,
    I was roving free inside her garden
    Stealing apples from her hidden trees,
    Painting them pollen gold with the calligraphy of my rhyme.

    I made love with a woman,
    Her body giving,
    I was robbing her of her heart,
    Her eyes closed,
    I was gulping mouthfuls of her body’s flower
    Looking for the cherries,
    Turning blood red as she helped my mouth pick them up.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    From words unborn I drank the sound,
    In lands unknown I touched the ground,
    Through dreams undreamt I reached the sky,
    In virgin’s bud uncouth and shy
    I breathed life... The butterfly
    Can die...

    On dewy lawns I lay my head,
    Wild rosebush thorns my tender bed,
    Against my ear a robin cries,
    Clear steaming stream of melting ice
    Rolls from my heart... Its thunder’s vice
    Just dies...

    Inside a book’s old crumbling walls
    A broken verse through pages crawls,
    In vain its search for mating bride,
    The years have slowed its reaching stride,
    One mighty roar... With fading tide
    It died...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    I have millions of tears left,
    Happiness tears,
    Stored some undefined place, hidden,
    Waiting for the dam to be broken
    Before flooding the valleys, the oceans,
    Feeding salt to daffodils, and lilies, and roses...
    Did you know that flowers thrive on the salty trail of happiness tears?
    I wonder, will I be seeing the desert blooming in their wake?

    I have few pain tears left,
    So few... I wonder, don’t remember shedding them,
    Where did I spill them,
    Could it be they hide in between the lines, the words, the rhymes,
    Did I write so many poems
    Or maybe they hide also in between the verses of my unwritten poems?
    Or in the dreams I don’t remember?

    Cold breath freezing the tears before they reach my cheeks,
    I don’t know, are these the few pain tears I still have left
    Cowering away deep in their windowless burrows
    Yet unable to resist the urge
    Or the countless happiness tears eager to burst out at a price of freezing death?
    Poor tears,
    Powerless against the fearsome cold invading their life
    As I lean forward trying to recover some warmth from my dwindling sanity
    Allowing the beautiful icicles stretch against their will
    Till my body cannot carry the weight anymore
    And finally tumbles down to its interminable death.

    My last irrelevant thought being
    Will I hear the sound of breaking ice
    Before fading away knowledgeable of abandon and unknowledgeable of reason?...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Your Number...

    You are not my number one
    Not my sun,
    My waiting gun,
    Not the path to heaven’s gate
    Not my mate,
    My poisoned bait...

    You are not my number first
    Not my thirst,
    My body’s burst,
    Not the flowers’ boundless field,
    Not my shield,
    My life repealed...

    When I’m crumbling sad and lonely
    You are there, my number only...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Going Am I...

    Going am I,
    Don’t you cry.

    In the wake of parting May
    Whilst your dreams with flowers play
    Run wild memories astray.

    Down your secret depths of heart
    Hide my touches, hides my art,
    Does it hurt my sunken dart?

    Every sunrise, time you wake,
    Drops a tear into the lake
    Built of endless shapes of ache.

    Every sunset, time you dream,
    Drops a smile into the stream
    Flowing down your silent scream.

    Gone is May, and autumn’s deep
    Lulls your memories to sleep,
    Sweet’s the sorrow, and you weep.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    You opened the crate,
    Pulling out shrieking nails from the humid wood,
    Nail, after nail, some you had to break,
    Layers of dust disturbing your vision
    As you persisted in the effort,
    Sweating, cursing, never giving up,
    One last rough point, a cracking sound,
    The cover coming off...
    What is hiding at the bottom of this strange, origins unknown, box?

    You picked me up from inside,
    Looked at me with a questioning eye as if deciding to burn me or repair me,
    Then your mind set, you laid me down on your work table
    And started working on me.
    The simple things first -
    Some oil inside the creaking joints,
    Some chipped parts replaced with new ones,
    Chiselling some rough points and then smoothing them over with sand paper,
    Fixed a new valve to the pump in my chest
    And replaced so many cogwheels in my brains
    That you may have had as well replaced my full head.
    But you did not want to replace the head. Neither the pump.

    You looked pensively, hesitating,
    Playing god has advantages,
    It has drawbacks, risks,
    The risk of falling in love with your creation,
    The risk of your creation betraying you.
    You picked up the brush, dipped it in colors and started painting,
    Giving yourself the time to think, to decide,
    The brush laying out layer after layer of inexistent colors
    Mixed specially for me with the tip of your tongue
    And the dripping honey of your eye,
    The colors soaking into the wood masking away the pallor of the skin,
    The blandness of the expression,
    The transparency of the liquid silently sleeping inside the pump.

    You turned me over, your moment of hesitation gone,
    You ripped away the wings from your shoulder
    And before the pain had the time to set in
    You attached them to my shoulders
    Lifted my head
    And blew life into my wood with one long unending kissing breath...

    You stepped back, almost frightened at your dare.
    I opened my eyes,
    Blinding light forcing them tightly shut immediately,
    Then slowly I opened them again,
    Looking at my surroundings
    With the curiosity of a new born
    And the lust of an awakening toy,
    And falling in love with the first human my eyes set their regard on,
    So soft, so gentle, so loving.
    I love you, I said.

    Fly, you said, fly and try your wings,
    Try it to the treetops.
    Why don’t you have wings, lover?
    I asked wondering.
    You hid your bleeding back and just kissed me silent.
    I tried a few flaps and it worked,
    The more I tried the more it seemed to be working,
    I tried to reach the treetops, made it, picked a leaf from the topmost branch
    And offered it to you like a flower.
    You kissed it and let it fly in the first album page of a rolling breeze.
    I tried again, leaving your dwelling for the hills,
    Picking leaves from higher treetops, other colors, other fragrances,
    Each time flying back to you and offering them to you,
    Singles, bouquets, forests,
    And each one found its way into your album and the album was getting bigger
    And thicker,
    And the breeze was turning storm...

    One time I put my arms around your middle and tried to pull you up with me,
    But I could not lift my body off the ground,
    I flapped mightily, desperately, but the wings could not carry us both...
    You laughed, you unclenched my fingers from your waist and pointed to the sky,
    Fly my lover,
    Search the mountains, search the clouds,
    Search the moon...

    I kissed you and flew to the mountain top
    And brought you a flower of ice which melted on your heart
    And dressed your breast in snowflakes beauty,
    I kissed you again and flew to the clouds
    And turned back with a flower of raindrops which cooled the fire in your heart
    And dressed your breast in steaming rivulets,
    I kissed you one last time and flew all the way to the moon
    And brought you a flower of silver rays which painted a sunset on your heart
    And dressed your breast in desires of sunrise.

    Wait, you said, where are you flying now?

    But it was too late,
    The power of the wings, the inebriation of conquering the heights...
    I flew up for days, for weeks, months,
    Drunken with the beauty,
    Alive with the glory,
    Farther, farther,
    Imagining I hear sounds calling me... where are you,
    Where did you go, come back...

    Imagining and flying on and on,
    Getting there,
    Touching the sun... and falling in love with the sun...

    How long have I dwelt in the blinding desert?
    Roving in and out the miles-long eruptions,
    Diving into molten hell and rising unscathed,
    Protected by my ignorance while wearing sun’s corona to my head
    And letting the sun pamper my desires for its unending consuming fires?
    Was it days, was it nights, was it years?

    One day I played hide and seek,
    Hid behind Saturn’s imposing body
    And suddenly the icy shadow froze the bubbling rivers running cross my body
    And reflected the blue of a long forgotten world...
    Oh, I suddenly cried in anguish,
    Lost my way and lost my mind and lost my life,
    Closed my eyes, rushed to the sun, stole a flower of fire
    And soared mightily down to an awaiting unknown.

    You were at the same spot, not even seated,
    Not a tear in your eye... did they all dry away?
    Not a sigh on your lips... did your voice lose its way into silence?
    The snowflakes on your breast back to ice,
    The steaming rivulets back to rain,
    The sunrise desires back into shapeless knots of silver rays...

    I fell on my knees, my head bowed,
    My hands stretched forward,
    The offerings weighing heavily on my muscles and dragging my arms to ground.

    I brought you the fire
    To sow in your breast
    I brought you the dagger
    To plant in my chest.

    I gave you wings,
    You learned to fly,
    I gave you life,
    My turn to die.

    The haze of the valleys
    To see in your eyes,
    The poison of sorrow
    To strew in my skies.

    You learned to fly
    And touch the dawn,
    Your freedom take
    And I be gone.

    Tomorrow’s emotions
    Adorning your day,
    Tomorrow’s deceptions
    Decanting my way.

    I gave you life,
    You reached the sun,
    Your glowing love,
    My morrows none.

    Wild magic of pleasure
    Will fire your life,
    Wild gasping in terror
    Will ripen my strife.

    My turn to die,
    Your turn to soar,
    Your only dream
    I be no more.

    You touched my brow, wiping my sweat and touching it to your lips.
    I gave you wings,
    You learned to fly,
    Flight is freedom,
    Freedom you love.

    I shivered, the warmth of your voice freezing my heart.
    Take my wings,
    Waste my knowledge,
    Chain me to earth,
    You I love.

    You picked my chin up,
    Touched the tip of my nose with your forefinger and waited.
    You don’t lie, you smiled.

    I stayed bowed,
    My right hand still offering you the flower of fire for your breast,
    My left hand still offering the steel dagger for my heart.
    You took the dagger,
    Cut off one feather,
    You took the fire and burned the feather,
    You took the ashes and blew them over my eyes,
    You kissed my eyes and drank the ashes,
    You laid down and you fell asleep.

    Wake up, I wailed, wake up...
    But you didn’t wake up.

    I lay your head on the thick album tome,
    And the hurricanes raging inside
    And the scattered leaves crumbling to forgotten memories.
    I picked up the flower of ice and your breast looked pale,
    And the flower of rain and your breast looked deserted,
    And the flower of silver rays and your breast looked bare
    And the flower of fire... and your breast looked lifeless.
    I jumped off the cliff and started flying,
    Days away, months, years maybe...
    Past the mountains, past the clouds, the moon,
    Into the sun,
    Dropping each flower to its home,
    Dropping into the sun,
    Burning, burning, burning...

    One day I will be back.
    And rip the wings off my back,
    Burn the feathers to ashes,
    Blow the ashes over your eyes
    Kiss your eyes and drink in the ashes,
    And then whisper the ashes back into your breath
    Watching you waking up softly to my life.


    I woke up with a start
    Shaking the dream spiders crawling around my mind,
    The long wound along my spine aching fiercely.
    I looked beside me
    At the white naked back
    Curved like a pale half broken pearl,
    My finger tracing lovingly the barely healing trace
    Running from your shoulder blades
    Down to a waist
    Thickened by the growing life inside your body.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Miss You...

    Miss you,
    Miss your smell,
    The one I’ll never know
              As you wake up in the morning
    Your flesh soaking in last night’s pleasures you refused to shower away
    Preferring to let your body bathe disrepectfully in passion’s tide
    Till morning light will wash it into a memory,
              As you yawn and your mouth radiates a musty cavern’s tinge
    Just before the commercial magic of modernity
    Wipes reality away in a cloud of artificial mint flavors
    Which is nothing but a camouflage to your body’s truths,
              As your morning’s relief of night’s accumulted body refusal
    Drowns me in its acrid haze
    Telling me you exist just a few feet away from me
    Ready to let me absorb your life’s fragrances any future moment of your life.

    Miss you,
    Miss your sound,
    The one I’ll never know
              As water runs over your body
    Cleansing the many paths running from the shameless tops of your prideful femininity
    Down to the soft depths of intimate crevasses
    Relighting scantily a few sparks ready for suicide under the harsh neon light,
              As stiff nylon fibres grate against the ivory refuged in your mouth
    Pulling away skin leftovers just one night old
    Peeled away from some forgotten body parts now growing a fragile crust
    Continuously breaking away as I try to move,
              As a howling electrical dragon blowing its fierce scalding breath
    Dries away leftovers of raindrop imitations from your dripping hair
    Telling me you exist a touching distance away
    Ready to let me hear your life’s songs any future moment of your life.

    Miss you,
    Miss your sight,
    The one I’ll never know
              As your image paints itself inside the door’s inelegant frame
    Glistening with a few forgotten beads parsimoniously strewn over your skin
    And blinding me with momentary reflections
    Of innocuous rays abundantly enveloping your body,
              As you pick up the lace garnered silk
    And hide teasingly slow inside its folds the players of last night’s luscious games
    Parading before my eyes with make belief innocence
    The promises of all nights to come,
              As your face approaches mine
    Your crossed eyes poorly imitating a mathematical multiplication symbol
    Telling me that you exist within one breath’s whisper away
    Ready to let me regard your life’s colors any future moment of your life.

    Miss you,
    How many senses did I miss mentioning?
    No, wrong, not two...
    Do you really know so little of me
    As to miss the millions of senses through which I miss you
    Making my life miserable
    In this unending happiness called...
    My love for you?...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Take your whispers,
    Lock them into each other, whisper to whisper to whisper,
    Add a few powerful sighs, some devouring smiles,
    Keep adding wishes and dreams and caresses
    Till the chain is long enough
    To attach to my ankle,
    The other end in your hand,
    And drag me through every chamber in your life.

    Who needs freedom?
    Make me a slave to your eternal desire
    And let me wallow in the knowledge that freedom will never come.

    Freedom is for people.
    I... am lover.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Someone Departed...

    Cupped my hands to collect your breath,
    Some smiles,
    A few words you meant to say but didn’t,
    Poems you will forever intend to write,

    A sealed bottle imprisons the last of your skin’s smell
    Moments before you screamed into submission
    And moments after,
    Your thumbprint on the mirror... how do I collect it?

    I stole a strand of hair while you were sleeping,
    Dipped it in your sweat
    Cut my finger and let the salt burn into my wound
    Finding easily its way to my heart,

    I licked your lips,
    Then placed the taste on the back of a stamp
    That one day will be stuck to the letter
    That one day you will be surprised to receive...

    Grabbed the sound of the closing door
    And locked it away with the rest of the treasures
    Left floating behind your departing shape
    To torture me into unending death...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    That moment of madness...
    A splinter off time,
    With sunlighted meadows
    Reflecting in slime,
    And lullaby wonder
    Devoid pearly chime,
    And red hearted cherries
    Depth bowls wearing grime.

    You came. You touched.
    Was it your little finger?

    Bright sunlighted meadows
    Are dancing with shadows,
    Soft lullaby wonder
    Calms storm’s waking thunder,
    Wild red hearted cherries
    Steal kisses from fairies,
    And madness off time
    Slowly melts in the rhyme.


    And shadow turns blue,
    And thunder turns coo,
    And fairy turns you.


The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    “What are you doing here?” I asked
    “I keep you alive,” she said.
    She? I never quite paid attention to angels earlier.
    Come to think of it, I never saw one
    So I wondered aloud...
    “Are all angels female?”
    “You mean women” she laughed.
    “Why do you think I am an angel?”
    I looked at the heavy bandages circling my chest,
    The big red stain soaking through against my heart.
    “You said you keep me alive.”
    “Yes, I could be a doctor, a nurse,
    I could be your wife, only you forgot about me...”

    She could, maybe she could not.
    I looked at her attentively,
    A youngish smirk on her lips,
    A barely visible flame leaping deep inside her irises...
    “You could have been my wife,
    You are not.
    Why are you not?”
    “Why do you think I am not?”

    I tried thinking back,
    One day earlier
    One week earlier,
    No recollection, blankness, void.
    She went on, not waiting for me to refresh my mind.
    “Angels are all kinds of...
    Male, female...”
    she laughed shortly.
    “Or kids, cherubs as you call them.
    Even animals, all they have to do is apply for the job...”

    She laughed loudly this time.
    “Sounds almost like a business, doesn’t it?...”
    I didn’t laugh.
    She halted, looking at me in a way I could not define,
    There was something special in that look, why?

    “How do I recognize an angel?” I asked
    Just playing for time,
    Maybe I would remember something.
    “Oh, this is very simple,
    You see, angels have wings.
    Some have white wings,
    Some have black wings,
    But all have wings.”

    “Does it matter the color?”
    “No, they are all angels,
    It is just a matter of fashion.”

    Now it was my turn to laugh.
    Fashion, angels have fashion...
    And only two colors?...
    I almost rolled off the bed laughing
    And she held me back to stop me from falling...
    The fire... oh, the fire where she touched my skin
    “... the fire where you touched my skin...” I gasped
    Looking at the red spot with the single tear boiling underneath the blister.
    “Does it always hurt when an angel touches a human?”
    I asked, forgetting the pain, forgetting the pulsating fire.
    “No,” she answered, sadness clothing her smile.
    “Only when...”

    I was suddenly impatient,
    I had enough talk of angels and fashion
    I wanted to know what I was doing there,
    Where was my yesterday
    Why this dressings around my chest
    Why this oozing red
    Why angels at all?
    I asked her.
    She answered.
    “You fell in love with me,
    You were dying,
    Your heart was bleeding incessantly,
    I had to make you forget,
    To mend your life
    To save you.
    I saved you, I made you forget your love.
    I made you forget.”

    She was right,
    I did not remember anything,
    I did not remember love
    Or death,
    I simply did not remember anything.
    Was nothing better than death?
    Maybe it was.
    Why was my heart bleeding? I pursued my interrogation.
    She smiled again,
    She looked sad, she looked relieved.
    “Because you and I were not meant to be.
    There are earthly regulations,
    There are celestial rules,
    They cannot be broken
    Nor escaped from.
    We fell in love
    And my desire for you sunk deep roots in your heart
    Growing stronger and meaner by the moment
    And the more I needed the more you wanted me to need
    And the more I was sucking your blood into my veins
    The more you yearned for feeding me your life...
    The more we were breaking the rules...
    The more you were dying.”

    She touched my brow with her lips,
    The fire of the touch did not frighten me this time,
    Did not hurt.
    “I had to save you
    And the only way to save you was to make you forget,
    To pull my roots out of your heart without your notice,
    To let you go,
    To let you leave, to let you live,
    To leave
    Without you hurting.
    You see? Because I love you.
    Do you love me?”

    I looked at her,
    A stranger, maybe an angel,
    Claiming to be an angel,
    So what?
    I did not know her,
    I did not care for her,
    I did not love her.
    “No, I do not love you” I said unblinking.
    No line of pain in her eyes,
    On her face,
    Only an incredible pallor
    And long shapely nails sinking in palms drawing thin trickles of blood.
    “I am glad,” she said.
    “Now I can leave, now you can live,
    The last of my roots are out,
    Your heart will mend,
    You forgot.”

    She stood up.
    “I am glad that I could erase the unforgettable from your mind.
    I am glad for the memories I carry
    I will never come back to pain you again.

    I am glad I saved you
    Because I loved you.
    Because I love you.”

    She turned to go. She turned to fly. She opened her wings.

    I gasped.
    “You said white or black...” I heard myself muttering.
    She didn’t look back.
    “Or mine...” she whispered.
    “Only mine. You painted them.”
    One strong flap and she was in the air.
    “With words. While you still remembered...”

    The buzzing blinding life in her wings pierced my mind
    With an insane view of wildly flittering butterflies battling for supremacy
    With furiously waving flowers drowning in a sea
    Of frantically wavering rainbows reflecting from a desert built
    Of endlessly rolling shards of broken tinted glass...

    She flapped away.

    Invading... unforgettable... unerasable...
    Waking up... you were mistaken angel... unforgettable... unerasable...
    The burning charcoal we let our souls roll through
    As our minds devoured each other’s fabric
    And our bodies danced to the roar of dragons’ flare music...
    The invisible roots still sunk in, clinging at heart’s giving walls...
    You were mistaken angel...
    As she flapped further away
    The pull getting stronger,
    The memories sharper,
    The tense clinging root yanking, tearing, ripping...

    And I smiled as I saw my heart breaking through the protective garments,
    Steaming red pouring freely out of its crushed chambers
    With bits of fast decaying flesh spreading away from me
    While I sank slowly into the bliss
    Of receding pain
    And eternal forgetfulness...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Is the weapon that conquered your deserts,
    Sowed your fields
    And painted your forests,
    Chased your dragons
    And set fire to your sun,
    Gave you life...

    Is this the weapon piercing your heart?

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Blue Eyes...

    Blue Eyes as your blue spark glows
    Burning holes through morrow’s fate,
    In my heart the desert grows,
              Sweetest mate...

    Blue Eyes as your blue salt streams
    Rolling into crystal pearl,
    In my heart the desert screams,
              Sweetest girl...

    Blue Eyes as your blue ink dries
    Blotting screens of yester’s life,
    In the desert my heart dies,
              Sweetest wife...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Never Been Times...

    I wish I’d sing of have been times,
    Of yawning snowdrops’ waking chimes,
    Of smiling hills
    When daffodils
    Are wedding light in sunset rhymes.

    I crave the pain of memories,
    The fleeting touch of morning’s kiss,
    The closing eyes
    When late goodbyes
    Melt in the warmth of early bliss.

    I miss the never happened fore,
    An endless hug on crystal shore,
    An eerie sight
    When dawning night
    Explodes like stars encrusted ore.

    The never was, the has not been,
    The maybe if, the ache within,
    I’d rive my heart,
    I’d wipe my art
    For one sole night of your sweet sin.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Like a cyclone of sudden and savaging fury
    Demented of senses and mindless of jury
    You’re lynching my landscapes and flooding my burrows
    Along my defences deploying deep furrows,
    My mountains to rubbish, my rivers to dust,
    My steel crumbling swiftly from luster to rust,
    I cringe in my shell for the ire to pass
    My shield a thin whisper of satin and glass,
    A bellowing thunder in rush for my heart...

    Then quiet... a smile ripping darkness apart,
    Your storm is departing, the sudden blind rage
    Decays to a rustle asleep in a page,
    As growing blue patches your skyline adorn
    In each of my teardrops a rainbow is born...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


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...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Passing Trains...

    Two trains side by side,
    Running at the compounded speed of passing seconds, days,
    One east to west from somewhere unknown to nowhere known,
    One west to east from another somewhere to another nowhere,
    Unknown too,
    Both loaded with humanity,
    Strangers, travellers by chance and of fortune,
    Aliens in their own world.
    How did I see you? Or was it you who saw me first and waved shyly my way?
    All those millions of colors, and suddenly all I saw was blue,
    Shining, twinkling, begging,
    A vision,
    Unreal yet... how come it suddenly smiled?
    Blue visions do not usually smile at some insignificant brown watching them
    From across a gulf of space that could span half a galaxy
    Yet is as small as the sound of a single word...

    I had to stop the trains,
    I simply had to,
    I had to ascertain that dreams do exist, that visions may materialize,
    I had to use a magic wand,
    I raised my magic wand...
    Hey, where did I suddenly have a magic wand from?...
    No time to think irrelevant thoughts,
    The speed was maddening, the distance shortening vertiginously
    On its way to start increasing again,
    Decide... use your wand... it may work... it may kill you but who cares?...
    Snap out of your spell, do it...
    I raised it... I let it hit the air like a giant whip... it thundered...

    The trains froze,
    I didn’t even feel the deceleration,
    One moment running madly and the next frozen,
    Smoke frozen on its way up from glowing stacks,
    Birds frozen mid flight,
    Dust looking like mud sprayed on an invisible memorial air canvas,
    Humanity frozen in mid movement, chewing, crying, giving birth...
    I looked at myself flexing my fingers... I... could move,
    Looked across towards you, your blue just a bit further away down your way
    Yet almost across from me,
    The blue set in a face set on a thin neck running on into a body, into arms, fingers...
    I looked at your fingers... oh, my God, they were able to move, they were trembling...

    I stretched my hand,
    Half a galaxy of distance suddenly reduced to a bit over one arm’s length stretch,
    You stretched your hand,
    Fists still clenched, unsure,
    Only finger length separating us now,
    Who will move first, shall we move,
    Shall we open our fingers and let them touch,
    Can we freeze the trains forever and cage humanity inside its immobility shell?
    I stole a glance behind you... just for a short moment,
    Watching the insides of your wagon,
    A kitchen... some chairs... a car...
    A few pages of history...
    A few faces blurred by distance,
    Maybe not only by distance?...
    I wondered what were you seeing behind me when
    I felt my grip loosening and the trains almost tearing away from my wand’s grasp.
    Concentrate, concentrate, you are not going to lose your grip now,
    Will you?...

    I didn’t pay attention as to who opened his fist first,
    It did not matter,
    The fingers started moving at a pace of their own,
    Uncurling, unfolding,
    A fingernail thickness separating...
    Searing pain, fire, curl back...
    The trains tearing away...
    Unfold again, clench, hold...
    The trains screeching to a halt
    Their might defeated by the frailty of that hold,
    The wand wasted,
    Passion, love, taking over...
    How long could it hold?
    How long could these hands whisper the skin thick magic
    Welding the palms together?
    As the fingers danced their orgy of touches,
    As the fingertips whispered incessantly words the mouths were too far away to hear,
    As the magic of man made metal empowered by God made words
    Tried to anchor into an unknown haven in heaven...
    A jerk... human sweat poured inside the hold, tainting it with humanity’s reality
    As the mindlessness of trains kept pulling away
    Tearing at the hold...
    Heaving... pulling,
    Realities heaving and pulling,
    The worlds heaving... pulling...
    I felt a sliding movement between the palms,
    Bone break sound... metal tear sound...
    A wailing sound... was it my throat raising its rage in prayer to an indifferent sky?...

    I screamed,
    As our trains suddenly bellowed apart
    Each continuing its unabatable journey into its own future,
    Humanity moving again, chewing, crying, giving birth...
    Dust billowing,
    Birds flying unaware...
    I... bleeding...

    I neared my train’s door,
    Regarding unseeing the ground rushing at deadly speed
    Underneath the racing monster,
    I opened the door
    Sensing your fragrance trailing your track like a steel chain attached to my neck
    And tasting your blood’s salt in the drops flowing an unforgiving trail
    From your ripped fingertips still stretching my way
    Inside your departing world.
    I will find you.
    Your traces are there.
    Your destination known.
    I will find you.
    All I have to do is just jump off my train.

    I jumped.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Prometheus Delivered...

    Reality kicks in
    With the stomping grace of the proverbial elephant in a porcelain shop,
    Mindless to the delicate shapes of singing, dancing figurines.
    I always thought dreams were beautifully immaterial,
    No substance,
    Nothing that can die,
    Nothing can ravage their un-dimensional existence,
    Dreams are eternal.
    So I thought.

    And reality’s steamroller rolls unperturbed
    Grinding to thin dust the most untouchable of memories
    And leaving behind a pitiful splash of what,
    Was a whole world.

    I open my memories book for the first time.
    No, I don’t lie.
    Every time I open it is the first time
    Because every time it is a new book,
    A new memory written in, changing it to something new,
    I go through the white pages, so many of them,
    I go through the days, years,
    White, white...
    When did my memories start?

    I watch my fingertips as they leaf through patiently,
    Charred by the touch I dared touch you
    Stealing the fire from your body
    And letting it seep in depths of inner soul
    Depths of dreams,
    Depths of memories,
    Now punished Prometheus wise, to be chained to the rock of life
    No vultures ripping pieces of my liver
    But memories,
    Tameless, wild,

    Finally, a blush conquers my cheeks,
    A first page,
    No text but a childish drawing scratched on it,
    A few lines for a body, a circle for a head
    And a funny triangle for a skirt,
    A question mark to the left side of what was supposed to be a chest.
    The first time I met one.
    The first time I met you.

    A few memories later intercalated by some white pages
    I added something symbolizing hair to the bald head,
    And breasts.
    Many memories later adding a basket of flowers, colors,
    An abysmal drawing of something supposed to be a bird
    And the first words,
    The first rhyme abhorred by all self respecting poets
    Envious of the one who invented it -

    Leafing on,
    Falling asleep on the open book
    And waking startled that maybe I missed something...
    Didn’t miss anything.
    Memories written, eternal,
    Each page tearing a piece of liver and burying it with a dead past,
    Another page,
    Then another.
    I must have been dozing since I missed the first kiss
    And jumped right into the flood
    Shaking off the remains of a tired brain and drinking, gulping,
    Pages, upon pages, upon pages
    Of kisses, hugs, kisses, kisses, kisses...
    Kept looking for a break, for a breathing pause,
    Kisses, kisses, kisses,
    Months, months, months...

    Body touch. Fire.
    Melted gold spilling inside my throat through a mouth pouring down sighs,
    Turning to gasps,
    Turning to animal yelps calling upon God
    For his wonders,
    For his angels,
    For the passion dressing two naked bodies into clawed ribbons of skin...
    Followed by a deafening blessing of silence...
    And a flood of verse
    None of which as magical as that childishly primitive

    Do you remember when the skin started healing?
    When was it, how many pages later?
    Many? Few?
    Was it when the pages started getting a yellowish glow,
    So unnatural, how come the newest pages getting the yellower hue?
    The colors fading into grey,
    The kisses into sparsely disconnected pages,
    The body healing its outer layer
    Leaving the bleeding for the unseen insides
    Barred from telling the story to the world,
    Not even a word penetrating into the book’s last pages
    Covered invariably by a cacophony of question marks
    Separated by a forest of meaningless vowels...

    Dying memories,
    Recent memories, mostly forgotten already
    Some even before getting born
    Leaving the last pages so full of dead dreams.
    A battle field
    Littered by corpses slowly decaying into disjointed pictures
    Slowly drying into peeling paints
    Slowly disintegrating into forgotten moments.
    Lost. Gone.

    Last piece of liver gone.
    Hercules couldn’t rescue him this time.
    Hercules is but a myth,
    Prometheus is alive, smiling.
    Finally, Prometheus is delivered.


    Deliver. De-liver. Dementia. De-mentia.
    I don’t close the book as it falls from my hands
    Crumbling into late evening’s dust
    Wiped away by reality’s incessant rumble about life,
    About immaturity of memories,
    About naiveté of dreams.
    Tomorrow they will find me,
    Head hanging to my chest,
    Mouth drooling disgustingly in my lap
    And as they try to close my eyes
    They will leave, wondering what was this fire they could not extinguish in my eyes.

    They will not know I tore out the page telling the story
    Of stealing the fire
    And nailed it to my chest with golden nails
    Forged in the furnace of a hidden match
    From a piece of yellow metal
    That once adorned my finger.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Four wheels,
    Carrying heaven,
    Does it make sense?

    The quiet, the whiteness of snow,
    Heaven humming quietly
    As we huddle inside its warm entrails,
    No other soul around,
    Not even squirrels, or crows,
    A rare snowflake dropping on the windshield
    And melting immediately into a drop of ice.

    Our honeymoon refuge,
    Our years long marriage and minutes long stolen honeymoon
    As we consume our passion in one single fiery gasp
    Losing a virginity long treasured
    To a lust long buried and finally exploding like the birth of a new sun...

    Cuddling, after,
    The receding taste of a kiss, of an intimate touch,
    The warm somnolescence following the short moment of awakening
    When our dreams finally seep into reality
    And leave a trace of sparkling gold
    Upon the last of the falling snowflakes.

    I love you, you say.
    I say nothing. You know it all.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Stupid Games...

    Playing stupid games,
    Trying to imagine you don’t exist in my life,
    Waking up to a world running its course indifferently
    Reborn every day in its ignorance
    Of us,
    Of I and you,
    Of we two,
    A never born star
    Which never carried a dream,
    Flowers, a garden...
    The garden sowed by my words with your own seeds
    And colorful melancholic birds...

    And I bend down in pain
    Rolling on the asphalt
    Seeing huge wheels coming my way
    And unable to move out of their path.

    Unable? Unwilling?

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


How Much Do You Love Me? She Asks...

    How much do you love me? she asks.
    Ask me and I will tell you, I answer.

    Do you love me enough to forgive me? she asks.
    When drinks conquer my reason,
    Abandon rules my desires
    And out of home I wander days, and weeks,
    Friends and strangers touching my skin
    Baring my flesh to hungry regards
    As my lust ridden body voraciously tastes forbidden pleasures
    Before the haze lifts off
    Leaving a desolate desert in my spirit
    And broken, tired, disappointed I crawl back to you
    And ask you to take me back?...

    Easy question you ask, woman, I answer.
    Loving you is clearing your mind,
    Covering your flesh,
    Healing your spirit and seeding it with the green of life and red of love,
    Caring for you in your need
    After you’ve been lost and frightened for long painful moments in an alien world
    And finally found your own way back home
    To a lifetime of warmth and tenderness
    By my side...

    Do you love me enough to die for me? she asks.
    When death knocks at my door asking for its due
    All warnings having expired
    And I am out of change having wasted it all on pleasures
    Of which you were excluded
    Finding that the only friend I have left is the one I’ve kept away
    Never having thought of him till the moment of need
    Desperation having brought you back into my mind and memory
    And frightened I hang on to your hand
    Asking you to be the shield between me and eternity?...

    Easy question you ask, woman, I answer.
    Loving you is being your shadow,
    Following you undemanding if in sun
    If in darkness,
    Never dozing off on duty, never hiding behind pretence and opportunity
    And happily offering my chest to absorb a bullet directed your way
    Leaving this world in blessed short lived knowledge
    That your warmth can safely open the door to the tenderness of another tomorrow...

    And if I asked
    To lose your might,
    To lose your right
    To win a fight,
    To lose the battle,
    Lose the war
    As mocking crowds despisal roar,
    As worthless clowns
    Your honor maim
    To end your days
    In scorn and shame?

    To this I answer
    It’s your right
    To feed me spite
    To feed me plight,
    To break my will,
    My day to end
    As mocking crowds my spirit bend,
    If this your wish
    My lover dear
    Then shame and scorn
    I hug and cheer.

    Do you love me enough to leave me? she asks.
    Do you love me enough to leave me? she whispers.
    When reality paves the path leading into a dead end street
    With life roaring gloriously towards an impenetrable wall
    And we both are in the carriage
    Hanging to a broken steering wheel, broken controls, broken brakes
    Knowing that only separating our ways will open a door into that wall
    Allowing a life of sorts
    In two separated worlds
    Never to be connected again except in dimming memories
    Of passionate kisses replaced by hollow laughter
    And decaying fires of the flesh?...
    Do you love me enough to leave me?

    Difficult question you ask, woman, I answer.
    Difficult question you ask.
    And I think.
    Never again to touch you,
    Never again to see you, hear you, taste you,
    As interminable passing days roll interminably over me their interminable torture
    In my knowledge that you exist in another world
    Inaccessible to me
    Never to return to a dwelling
    Crumbling inside walls longing for your presence
    And for your song?...

    Difficult question you ask, woman, I answer.
    The most difficult question of all.
    Yes, woman, I love you abysmally enough to leave you
    Into warmth, into tenderness,
    And to die every day of the rest of my days
    Knowing that you live.


    She smirked in what I interpreted to be a feminine she approving of my answers fashion, or so I hoped. Then she turned into a perfect ball and started purring. I was afraid to touch her or she might start rolling and never stop. Instead I busied myself with mind games around feminine and feline and was just about to promise myself to coin and copyright a new word which will be femiline, when I heard the purring change pitch and something like...

    “...Your turn now...” coming out of that perfect ball.

    “Shall I ask you?” I asked.

    There was a noise similar to ...ehmmm... which is the closest I could translate into written letters, but which meant an unmistakable yes spoken from the depths of a throat too lazy to open its mouth.

    “Can I abstain?” I insisted.

    Another, this time unletterable noise came from the same ball, meaning a clear no. I looked at the curved forms guessing already what the answers might be, yet afraid to ask my questions.

    “Will you forgive me?” I ask.

    “Never”, she answers and rolls tightly against me.

    “Will you be willing to die for me?” I ask.

    “Never”, she answers, one appendage defining itself as a slender hand sliding out from that perfect ball and unbuttoning my shirt’s top button.

    “And if I asked
    To lose your might,
    To lose your right
    To win a fight?...”

    “Never”, the broken record in her mouth echoes its previous intonations and a second shirt button gives in to those slender fingers, the thread snapping with a sharp sound under the impatient fingertips.

    “Will you leave me?” I ask, my body rigid, frozen, fearing.

    The ball unfurls into its feminine components as she sits across my lap, eyes holding mine with hypnotizing power as her two hands tear my shirt wide open. Then she takes lumps of cloth from her own shirt in her fists and pulls it wide open with buttons jumping like the scatter of a shotgun in the room, then she lays her bare skin against mine into a perfect fit of boiling honey pouring over a blistering thorns field. I can hear only a heart beat, barely perceptible breathing, a lost sigh... Has she fallen asleep? I wait, all cramped and numb, afraid to move and disturb the ecstasy of the pain, the agony of the wait, the fright of the unknown. The sun goes down letting the whispers of ascending night softly start their slow crawl around us, when finally she moves her arms around my body, locks her fingers behind my back and in the most indifferent manner her whisper roars into my ear.

    “Never”, she says.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Passion Reborn...

    Hush. Quiet. Silence.

    Your eyes closed,
    Daring not open them
    Lest you wake up from the fiery holocaust
    Grinding your landscapes
    And charring your mountains into the desolation of a black desert
    Smouldering away its satiated hunger
    Through gasps of steaming breath
    Escaping your gaping mouth
    And blistered throat.

    Your fists clenched,
    Daring not open them
    Lest you lose your grip on hell’s bubbling cauldron
    Pouring its molten brew through your veins
    Straight into passion ridden swamps hiding depths of your storm devastated valleys
    As the slaughtered gale wastes away its tidal rush
    Into an ever dying quake’s wake
    Clinging obstinately to muscles gone limp
    And fingers in the grasp of life’s awakening throes.

    Your heart locked,
    Daring not open it
    Lest you discover reality’s winter
    Indifferently conquering your mountains,
    Icebergs turning your valleys into an immaculate white landscape of death
    And the velvet talking to your body and caressing your mind
    Slowly metamorphosing into tinkling icicles
    Singing a tune
    For no ears to hear.


    I touch you.

    You shiver, you wake up,
    A weak pulsation visible underneath the whiteness against your left breast
    As a soft puddle of clear water forms across the melting spot, growing,
    And finally it elongates tear shape and slides down along your rib.
    “Your heart is crying” I say.
    “Where have you been” you say.
    “I have never gone away” I say.
    Your eyes shamefully hide their bewilderment behind transparent eyelids
    Betrayed in their sanctuary by an incessant flutter
    As your naked body curls around my ankle
    Clinging like an imprisoning flesh ring
    Tying me to a weightless infinite passion.
    I regard the last of the flakes turning into shimmering crystal balls all over your body,
    Winter’s dew one by one rolling away
    And splashing into a firework of exploding miniature deaths all around you.
    “Your fire, your hell, I missed it” you say.
    I bend down and touch the scorched spot underneath your breast.
    “It’s always there girl.
    My home,
    My sanctuary,
    My kingdom,
    My birthplace,
    My womb.”

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Flutes De Pan...

    I heard a voice,
    Unexpected, the radio playing
    Then suddenly this colorful female voice
    Plaintive like a summer rain steaming away from the hot asphalt,
    Her tremolo vibrating inside my bones
    Playing through them like so many flutes de pan
    Voicing an ageless wail to an unhearing world
    And content to lay its pain to bed inside the softness of my marrow.

    I stopped the car, closed my eyes,
    Let them absorb the sensation,
    A sensation dragging me back to this timeless time
    When I shivered the way I shiver now,
    Inside the confined space of a truck’s cabin
    A moment away from death
    Approaching me in the shape of a pair of female lips
    Ready to spit their fire inside me
    And burn my entrails to a shapeless lump
    Of charred heart and lungs and blood.

    I never woke up from that death,
    So more artful than anything I could ever lay down in word.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Sad Am I, Oh, Sad Am I...

    Miss you Tiger, little friend
    Gone beyond cloud’s silver end,
    Gone your tail stump’s wagging art,
    Gone my joyful slice of heart,
    Friend of mine don’t watch me cry,
    Sad am I, oh, sad am I...

    Miss you Elvis, dear old friend
    Gone beyond sun’s golden end,
    Gone your song’s amazing art,
    Gone my singing slice of heart,
    Friend of mine don’t ask me why,
    Sad am I, oh, sad am I...

    Miss you Mother, gentle friend
    Gone beyond sky’s silken end,
    Gone your tender caress art,
    Gone my loving slice of heart,
    Friend of mine to smile I try,
    Sad am I, oh, sad am I...


    Miss you Lover, miss you friend
    Way beyond world’s hazy end,
    Miss your passion’s raging art,
    Gone my burning slice of heart,
    Friend of mine my life’s a lie,
    Sad am I, oh, sad am I...

    Now my life’s memories rife,
    Miss my life, oh, miss my life...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


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...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Cover Girl...

    I knew how she looked like
    Having seen her so often in my mind’s eye,
    Platinum blonde, her long hair softly flowing down to mid back
    Curling outwards like flowers’ petals just opening up to morning’s sun,
    Alabaster blue, shining, penetrating eyes cutting slices off my face
    Like steel-cutting lasers testing their strength on lumps of butter,
    Deep red lips opening up to into a perfectly white curtain of perfectly straight teeth
    Able to rip through flesh and hidden bone,
    Venus breasts their tips hard marble,
    Guitar hips their touch a sunset melody,
    Ballerina feet their step feather light...
    The perfect dream...
    Cover girl...

    I met her
    My eyes searching every feature of that dream my mind painted over irises,
    Oxygenated blonde, her hair a wild mess of disarrayed curls
    Going whichever way round her shoulders and forehead,
    The blue of tired eyes warmly regarding behind glasses into a world
    Ending hazily a few feet away,
    Pink lips, slightly moist, slightly curving into a smile
    Uncovering teeth slightly stained by smoking, slightly crooked,
    Soft breasts ripened by age,
    Hips having carried children into life,
    Thin legs that once danced upon table tops...
    The perfect woman...

    Dear God,
    If you exist somewhere and can get away from your accounting books
    For a few seconds
    Please close your eyes and heed my words...
    Thank you for imperfections,
    For wild hair gathering lumps in my hand as I pull that head towards me
    Eyes glinting a pale blue focusing an immense warmth on my face
    As half opened lips drive sharp irregular teeth into my mouth
    And bare breasts offer their softness to a hand
    Being allowed to slide along the desire of hips
    And abandon of legs...
    The perfect love...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Fresh the flowers,
    Old the pain,
    Crawling mists across the plain
    Dress my mind melancholy

    While the storm’s eye
    Beckons rain,
    Daylight’s sorrows slowly wane
    As I pry to depths of me,

    Gone’s the moment,
    Heals the drain
    Feeding left of chest the stain,
    Drops of bitter potpourri

    Back is reason’s
    Cruel reign,
    Ageless memories are slain
    As I scream my rage, my plea,
    In vain.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


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...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    When you don’t think,
    You don’t ask,
    You never have to ask,
    You just do and you know that it is always the right thing
    Because it can never be wrong
    Between lovers.

    You cry,
    Because it is the moment to cry
    And the reason is there to be or not,
    And I don’t have to know because you know,
    All I have to do is find a clean handkerchief,
    Blow your nose, dry your eyes,
    Gather your sadness in my lap along with your body
    And lull you to sleep
    Past the tears, past the moment.

    You smoke,
    Because it is the moment of need
    And you don’t ask if you may,
    And I don’t comment, don’t wriggle my nose in distaste and disgust
    Even though I hate the smoke and the smell
    But wait for you to unload your heart, your fear, your need,
    Knowing you will not do it to spite me
    And it pains you terribly to let me see your distress
    Yet once the moment gone
    You will cuddle in my lap
    And let me caress your body in silent gratitude
    For being so close to you.

    You shower,
    Because it is the moment to relax,
    To free your body of the day’s stress and drown inside the drizzle
    Allowing me to watch your wet skin
    As rivers run long your breasts, down your hips and legs,
    Then you shake off the extra droplets
    And invite me to wrap the towel around you and rub you dry,
    Pour you inside thin underwear
    Before absorbing your fatigue in my skin and words as you sit in my lap
    And fall asleep just before the princess marries the prince
    And they live happily ever after.

    I touch you,
    Because it is the moment to love your body
    And forget those moments without you
    So strange to my need and desire,
    And you smile,
    You allow my hands to wander wherever they mindlessly wish to,
    My eyes to capture your skin beyond shyness,
    You whisper in my ears words you would not whisper to anyone else
    Demanding, asking, goading me to come as close to you
    As your skin,
    As deep inside you
    As your blood,
    As loving as no one else is allowed to
    Beyond our intimacy.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Moments, First...

    Rolling through my mind incessantly,
    Those moments, the first, the once and never again event,
    The birth of intimacy
    Sealing a love doomed to live in a continuous twilight zone
    Except for those moments,
    The first, unrepeatable, unforgettable.

    The little cabin light turning on for a second,
    Insufficient time for my rushing heart to gather the all of you
    Inside my eyes, my senses, my life.
    I sat next to you, shivering.
    Did you see my shiver? Did you hear it?
    You turned your head to me,
    Removed your glasses...
    The blue,
    The kiss, the first,
    The lost senses trying to anchor into something tangible
    With the only reality within reach being those lips,
    My God, those soft, warm, fragile, mint tainted lips...

    The perfection of life,
    The beauty, the invincible only and single memory never to be erased.
    Not even by life.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


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...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Barren Path...

    Alone I walk the barren path,
    The green and mighty fleet
    Been taken prey to autumn’s wrath
    It crumbles at my feet.

    I lie upon the rotting bed
    And slowly sink to ground
    My fingers trace the tear you shed
    Upon the mellow mound.

    I soak the warmth which moons ago
    Your body gently poured,
    Hiding the caress of its glow
    Inside the steaming sward.

    A shiver shreds my aching bone
    As fingers slowly curl
    Around a necklace lying lone
    Of glass and peeling pearl.

    Will gentle winter lay its coat
    Upon my tired chest
    Then lull me into tender rot
    And lay my ache to rest.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    A rock,
    Dull, dirty, crumbling at the edges,
    Cracks boring daily deeper, wider,
    Green moss converging into every corner
    Witnessing the desolation of advancing age
    And desert
    And lonesomeness.
    The wind, was its howling a prophecy?...

    I felt a breeze, a whiff of unclear origin
    Pushing sidewise the howl
    Touching my surface
    As if trying to understand my origin,
    My depth,
    The weak beat hammering my insides
    And waiting for the final thrust
    When time’s fingers grope in mindless vileness
    And unforgivingly crush me into crumble
    Making me part of the desert, my beat part of the silence,

    I let it penetrate,
    Unmindful of its probing feelers
    Tasting bits of my reality, a boil which gave up all hope of revival
    And slowly simmered down into apathy
    And carelessness
    Counting the minutes left while yearning for the seconds...
    I let it impregnate my mass
    Getting hold of cooling leftovers of smoldering coal
    And cajoling them into bright red,
    Into little flames
    Turning my insides a waking volcano
    A star collapsing into a sun’s rebirth
    Before a raging universe of nascent memories on the verge of Creation
    Embraced my being
    In the gripe of a terrible fist
    And squeezed death out of me
    Turning the rock into the pricelessness of a shapeless diamond.

    I woke up
    Vaguely remembering desire,
    Sacrifices to the altar of wedding souls cursed by unimpregnable obstacles
    Yet determined to consume their union against all odds
    Imposed by faith, time, life.
    I reached out, surprised at the flexibility of my newly born diamond arms,
    Groping desperately for that fading breeze now beating its retreat
    Smashing shield after shield, mountain after mountain,
    My appendages indifferent to pain and hysterics and humanity
    Carving a path with a mindlessness of their own,
    Holding, squeezing, smashing... turning the escaping molecules into dust,
    The dust into pebbles, into rock, into diamond... releasing the hold,
    Finally pain, emotion, hesitation...


    Diamonds. Rough, uncut, unbridled, wild. Cutting into each other.
    “Why?” you asked. “Why do you cut into me?”
    “Because I want to find your heart”, I said.
    “You should have left me be flesh, you could have found it easily”, you said.
    “Then you would have died”, I said.
    “What is it to you if I live or die?” you asked.
    “You turned me into diamond,
    You are my master creator,
    I can not let my master creator die”, I said.
    “I would not have died if you would not have followed me
    Searching for my heart.
    Why are you looking for my heart?” you asked.
    I let go. I stopped cutting. I thought.
    I did not know the answer.
    “Why am I looking for your heart?” I asked. “Do you know?”
    You picked up the diamond dust falling off your heart
    And blew it smilingly over the sky.
    Stars, I’ve never seen stars before.
    “I’ve never seen stars before” I said. “Why did I not see stars before?”
    “Because you have never been in love before.
    Being in love is seeing stars, cutting through for the heart, hurting.”
    “Am I in love now? With you?”
    “Yes, you are.” You smiled.
    “Then why did you turn me diamond? Why did you not leave me rock?”
    “To test if you are true. If you can love.”
    “I did not know you before, I did not love you before.
    I was counting my minutes. Happily waiting.”
    “Waiting for death?”
    “You don’t think so?” I asked. “What else was I waiting for?”
    You picked a few stars, arranged them in the form of a ring
    Then laid it floating in front of me. Slowly gyrating, wobbling.
    “For me, maybe? Were you waiting for me? For my memories?
    For my diamond dust?” you said, answering my question with yours.
    I watched the sparkle in the ring, hesitating, unsure.
    “Maybe I was waiting for power?” I said.
    “I gave you power. Was it power you were looking for?”
    “Maybe immortality?”
    “Maybe, I gave you immortality, was it immortality you were looking for?”
    I looked fascinated as the ring shaped itself into kite
    And rummaged the sparkle settling in the clouds
    Reaping colors inside its white transparency
    Before twisting itself into an eight shaped ring again, so rich its colors...
    Was there some magic at work?
    “Was I looking for your heart?” I finally asked.
    You smiled, your polished surface shining there where I did not cut into you,
    Reflecting a light I was not sure where it originates from.
    “No. I was looking for your heart” you said. Silence. “Did I find it?”
    “I don’t know, how will you know?”
    Do diamonds laugh?
    Is there a description to the tinkle a laughing diamond does? You laughed.
    “I will. You were rock.”
    “I know, I was rock.”
    “I turned you diamond, I did.”
    “You did.”
    “If I found your heart you love me. If your love is true you give me your heart.”
    “You speak in riddles. How can I give you my heart?”
    “Allow it to turn flesh.”
    “And give up my diamond shine, my power, my immortality?
    I turned you diamond too, will you join me?”
    You stayed silent, dreamy, eyes closed,
    Your eyelashes crawling with diamond butterflies
    Filling up the air with shimmering dust.
    I waited for an answer, none coming.
    I waited, minutes, days... quiet...
    Diamond dust studded red drops started dripping from the gash in your chest,
    The smile never leaving your face for a moment,
    The silent hum leaving your lips never ending its chant.
    I waited days, weeks... quiet...
    The shining puddle at your feet ever growing,
    The smile never fading,
    The sharp lines of your cut slightly cracking...
    “Open your eyes...” I begged... “Open your eyes...” I whispered...
    “Open your eyes...” I cried
    And as my finger slowly slid inside the left side of the ring
    I took your finger and slid it into the right side of it.


    I woke up again. Remembering it all.
    Not doubting it for imagination, for fantasy,
    Knowing it for reality.
    I keep waking up lately a lot from my poetry,
    Never certain if dream if life.
    “See, I found your heart” you smiled and kissed my diamond ring,
    Placing my hand to the left of your chest.
    “See, I found your heart” I smiled and kissed your diamond ring,
    Placing your hand to the left of my chest.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


December To December...

    You asked me to remember
    The twinkle past your fear,
    The smiling raw emotion
    Asleep inside your tear,
    The dream riding your nightmare
    Its tameless mustangs wild,
    The guileless flare of passion
    Which pierced your heart, oh child.

    I promised to remember
    The twinkle in your eye,
    The smiling raw emotion
    Asleep inside your sigh,
    Proud herds of tameless mustangs
    Astride your roving dream,
    Your heart reflecting softly
    Your tender passion’s gleam.

    “Will you...” you asked “...remember...”
    “Will I...” I said “...forget?”
    “...December to December
    And never to regret?”
    “I will...” I said “...remember...”
    “You will...” you said “...regret.”
    “...December to December
    And never to forget.”

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Feed Me...

    Feed me,
    Your hunger...
    Let it roll through my bones
    Like a river of stones
    Purging restless desires
    Inside loins merging fires
    And animal groans...

    Feed me,
    Your thirst...
    Let your motherly milk
    Pour a river of silk
    In a mouth pale and ashen
    Scorched by furious passion
    Of animal ilk...

    Feed me,
    Your serenity...
    Let your skin be the fleece
    Calming river’s caprice
    As I lie on its feather
    And my pain wanes to nether
    In animal peace...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    The fire crawls inside my soul
    A meltdown ripping pole to pole
    And sunny skies
    And sparkling eyes
    Wake up to mornings painted coal.

    My claw has pierced your fragile skin,
    A reddish streamlet trickles thin,
    My gentle love,
    My bleeding dove,
    Forgive my hunger stained by sin.

    I never wished upon you pain
    And thistles cutting through your plain,
    My gentle fawn
    Please wish me gone
    And let my rainbows paint your rain.

    When smiles anew adorn your breeze
    And nightingales invade your trees
    Just pick my art
    And pierce my heart
    And let me sink down nether seas.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Be my dagger, be my poison,
    Velvet fist in iron glove,
    Thunderbolt’s steel clawing fingers,
              You, my love...

    Be my goddess, be my angel,
    Devil’s hell and nightmare’s life,
    Mountains’ fire raining ashes,
              You, my wife...

    Be my torment, my undoing,
    Raging dog and fire squad,
    Finger punishing with fury,
              You, my God...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    You gave me your heart,
    Raw flesh, red, beating madly in my fist,
    Asking for my shield, my protection,
    “Guard it, please,” you asked of me,
    “It’s the only one I have.”
    I promised to care for it,
    To feed it love, nurture it tenderness,
    Hide it in my chest
    Guard it with my soul.

    Days passed, then years,
    Love unending, love unending, love unending...

    One day
    I stumbled...
    And the heart rolled from my hold,
    Hit the pavement
    And splashed all over me its red of love
    Decaying so fast, decaying so fast, decaying so fast...

    I saw you cringe,
    I saw you crumble,
    And all I could do
    Was crumble at your side.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Forgiveness, two...

    Forgiveness you ask.
    Forgiveness you ask?
    The crime in my self,
    The blood on my hands,
    The lashes ripping through your skin
    My hand holding the whip
    Your hand holding the flower...

    The whip biting the flower
    Tearing it off your hand
    And smashing it to earth in clouds of dust, choking, blinding.
    The dust settles,
    You bend,
    Pick up the shivered petals in your palm
    And shivering with tenderness offer them to me, smiling.

    Oh, hounds of hell
    Your terrible yell
    Not half as foul
    As my impotent howl...

    And my whip lashes again
    Your smile as loud as your pain
    Will we ever ever ever ever make love in the rain?...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Never stop torturing me,
    Never keep your iron’s red from my brow,
    Never relinquish my decaying flesh from your claw,
    United again
    In pain,
    Oh, gods I don’t trust I don’t adore
    Keep me away from the stinking salvation shore
    Lend your nails studded chariot your horses so wild
    To the one woman child
    My child, so proud, so wild,
    So tender, so sweet,
    In wisdom and beauty replete,
    Let Prometheus be children’s fairy tale
    When side by side with my fate
    As she runs the wheels over my body again and again and again
    In pain
    United again
    Again and again and again,
    As she picks up my torn scattered flesh and lays it on my bone again
    Her wails tearing sky’s doors from hinges
    And devil on duty in fear cringes
    And I whisper my adoration
    Each time she touches my flesh,
    Each time she tears it away,
    Each time she touches it and listens to my loving screams.

    Never stop torturing me,
    Never stop touching me,
    Never stop loving me,
    Never stop running your chariot over my decomposing limbs
    So numb with adoration and love.

    One day, maybe,
    You will gather the leftovers,
    Plant flowers over them,
    And lull me to sleep with songs I once sang to you.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Autumn Dying...

    Falling leaves. Autumn.
    I think of the autumn you turned into my summer,
    So unusual, miraculous.
    My green withering away, my trees barren,
    Singing birds losing their way back
    And finding other, fresher nesting treetops.
    I was drying, dying, my spine bending down, my gait slowing.
    Where did you come from wild sprite, where from?
    With a bagful of colors you started painting freshness into my breeze,
    Colors into my flowers,
    Life and song in my sagging heart...
    And birds in our common nest.

    You were not an angel, what were you?
    A fairy? A forgotten goddess waking to life,
    A child of beauty?
    Or simply the most wondrous of human creations, a woman,
    A woman in tender first love?

    I drank your milk, I licked your honey,
    I took the bow off my shoulder
    And I shot you.

    Oh, most miserable of human creations, man,
    Confused, lost, ungrateful, thoughtless, in fear...

    I kneeled by your side,
    My bow broken, my heart broken,
    Your eyes shining, pleading, asking questions I had no answers to.
    Oh, magic creature, none but I could harm you
    And I did so, fatally so.
    Your wing... where did you hide it?... you had wings...
    Your wing torn, your side ripped open, gushing life.
    I howled... Forgiveness... I howled, is there any?
    As you slowly crawled into my lap and I crawled underneath your body
    Gently lifting your torn wing by your ripped side
    And I started singing old forgotten incantations into your ear,
    Of old languages, of old gone lovers, of never gone love...
    Not lullabies but prayers, prayers to you,
    To my warmth’s brook,
    To my life’s source,
    Prayers of redemption, of healing, of life.

    Stay by me, Stay by me,
    Let me feed you my life,
    Let me paint you my love,
    Let me offer you my warmth,
    Never leave, no, never leave
    Lest my forest dries anew,
    Lest my soul wanes,
    Lest my autumn dies into final terrible winter...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Random Seasons...

    do you remember
    july’s smiling moon,
    a sparkling december,
    a flower in june?

    do you remember
    an april fools day,
    a ring in november,
    that first kiss in may?

    october was crying
    with yellows and reds,
    and august sweet sighing
    september love weds...

    a january frozen tear the call of love denies
    and shyly hides in glassy dreams depths february’s eyes
    remembering the passion’s call under a rainbow’s arch
    forgetting time, forgetting pain, when was it?... was it march?...

    i was your adonis,
    my goddess you were,
    and summer now gone is
    in autumn’s cold glare.

    we met in a fire
    we parted in rage,
    a winter’s desire
    played spring on a stage.

    we knew it could never,
    we hoped that it may,
    we know that forever
    now short is one day...

    the memories are settling down in random album sheets,
    few times, untold, a crippling crave shreds glimpses down to bits,
    and when one day you’ll knock on door and ask... remember?... then
    i’ll take your hand and guide your mind to what, and where, and when...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    You told me once that you become
    The words you say.
              And lurking thoughts behind the screens
              Like silent hunters’ telling fins
              Are mild reminders of the beast
              Who drags its hulk down mindless mist
              Awaiting life’s one single tear
              To break its chain, it’s cage to shear,
    And pounce its prey.

    You told me once that you become
    The songs you sing.
              Forgotten notes keep bouncing on
              Upon a life’s untended lawn
              Reflecting wishes times unseen
              From raging blue to blissful green
              Till comes a moment loaded fear
              And outside crawls the deadly spear
    And kills the spring.

    I wish you were the whispered word
    The guileless rhyme of flying bird,
    The never ending tender song
    That never knows the right from wrong,
    I wish you were... the gentle you,
    The one I knew, the one I knew...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Never Lost...

    So much love,
    Clean, pure air
    Locked away in a floating citadel
    Isolated from reality by an impenetrable bubble
    Anchored to the world by a wish twined into a dream,
    Only two keys ever forged, created.
    We owned the keys.

    And the powers of flesh
    And the powers of money and insurance and sickness and human weakness
    Joined forces tearing at the chain
    Ripping away the anchor
    And letting the citadel fly away to unknown destinations,
    The keys orphans in our pockets.

    The love locked in,
    Safe, protected in its layers of memories,
    Never lost...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Sparkling Lights...

    God of my ancestors,
    I don’t pray much to you,
    Actually I hardly pray at all
    Because, as you know, I don’t really believe in God.
    But this time please let me do it formally,
    And pray,
    You know, you can do it for me because we are friends nevertheless.

    Put the spark back in the blue
    Paint the laughter in the hue
    Let her memories retain
    Just the beauty of that pain
    When we knew we couldn’t be
    Yet, in tender whispers we
    Planted flowers, planted seeds,
    Passion’s rare exotic weeds,
    Dreams unwise and wishes some
    Though we knew that time will come
    When we’ll lock the secret gate
    Pawn its key with mistress fate,
    Grows the garden, cannot die,
    Blue its heart and blue its eye.

    Thick the roots and sunken deep,
    Smile my lover, don’t you weep,
    Let my kiss play on your lip
    As those memories you reap.

    And let her taste all world’s delights
    As she regards those blinking lights
    My little girl,
    My little pearl,
    For ever’s time
    She is my rhyme.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...



    Thin this wail striding my heart
    Threading through my fledgling art
    Head my plea
    Do set me free
    from thee...

    Mountains hugged your rocky nest
    Lover’s hell your fire’s zest
    Dreams and wine
    And love divine
    were thine...

    Rivers ran through soggy verse
    Soaked in bliss and loaded curse
    Spell and vow
    Are dimming now
    and thou...

    Let the garden’s flowers sing
    In your heart be always spring
    Do not fear
    I’m always near
    thy tear...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Friends Of The Heart...

    The beauty of yesterday
    Locked away under the powerful lock of time
    Ineffaceable except by the frailty of our minds
    And the filters of our tinted wishes.
    And the pieces of paper
    Scribbled hastily on the back of parking tickets
    And empty sandwich bags,
    Carefully stowed away,
    Remove the frailty
    Untint the filters
    And let us again have that unobstructed view
    Of memories
    In all their virginal beauty.

    We knew we didn’t stand a chance,
    Brittle humans fighting the mighty currents of life
    Yet we plunged in
    Paddling madly with our body, feet, one hand
    As the other encircled savagely the other’s chest refusing to let go...
    We lost the war,
    The monster called life dragging in all its reserves
    And waging a combat intent on annihilation
    Irrelevant of costs, loss, destruction.
    And it won.

    But we won one battle, one singles short and glorious battle,
    Oh, the sweetness of victory,
    The enchanting few years of life and love and glow
    Written in stone, written on paper,
    Locked in time and in the pride of our hearts,
    In memories,
    Never to die, always to cherish.

    Life is licking its wounds,
    Bleary and indifferent in its stride
    Looking down on us in its pitiless manner
    And moving on to bother other humans.
    We stay behind, the battle field deserted,
    We know we lost
    Yet we smile with puny human superiority
    Looking at the mountains we seeded in our battle’s wake
    And know that this is one battle we won losing it.

    Stupid, pitiful, ignorant life.
    Our ways may have been separated,
    Our hearts may have been left bleeding,
    Yet with stubborn insistence we climb to our feet again
    The spark regaining the eye
    Finding new beauty, new loves, new reasons to smile,
    The steel of memories guiding our ways
    And knowing that whatever the power of those implacable currents may be
    We are never farther than
    One handhold,
    One heartbeat,
    One memory away.

    Friends of the heart,
    The sweetness of love finding final refuge
    In the warmth of never ending friendship.

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...


Gone is...

    Gone is blue,
    Hell’s gardens dew,
    Gone to worlds of heartbreak hue,
    Depth her eyes dead embers glow
    Long her path grey ashes sow,
    Dies her garden... flow tears, flow...

    Gone is green,
    Hell’s fires queen,
    Gone to worlds of pain unseen,
    Depth her chest ice gardens grow
    Painting breasts the cold of snow,
    Dies her music... flow tears, flow...

    Gone is life, the blue of streams,
    Gone is life, the green of dreams,
    Depth my thoughts death’s blizzards blow
    Crawling nightrise ends the show,
    Dies my sunshine... flow tears, flow...

The End Of Sweet, The End Of Bitter...