Hobbies - Poetry - AnonymousGreen
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    In tender kisses wake the dreams,
    And nightmares fade down nether streams,
    And nightingales
    On rainbow trails
    Paint melodies long sleeping beams...

    A whisper dies between the sheets,
    A heart forgets the count of beats,
    A muffled cry
    A lonesome sigh
    When passion raw with hell competes...

    The stink of sweat, the salt of tear,
    Love's pungent odor mixed with fear,
    The silent if,
    The wailing sniff
    As parting time is drawing near...

    In children's voices wakes the day,
    And burning cheeks fade pallid grey,
    And nightingales
    Long morning's sails
    Mourn moments gone forever way...




    A would be cowboy crucifies a would be song of love,
    His pallid hand holding the mike hides in a leather glove,
    The wonders of technology provide the missing key...
    We dance to tunes of flower fields, lone lovers, you and me.

    A crooning lady takes the scene with lament woven tears,
    Thick layers of cosmetics paint disguise her grafting years,
    The beauty of her once upon could fill a waning sea...
    We dance to flowing honey wells, just two, just you and me.

    A plastic juke box made somewhere gulps down my quarter piece,
    A golden dollar I would pay to hear the good old hiss,
    I hum along to roughen up the smooth and oily sea...
    We dance to flowers bound for May, in love, just you and me.


    A wailing siren trumpets by with songs of life or death,
    Two drumming chests will share once more one last time tune and breath,
    The skyward thunder's decibels fade in my howling spree...
    We dance in memories of us, forever, you and me.



Dreams Shepherd

    Hardly girl and barely woman, lost in amber tinted dreams
    Sketched by the celestic painter of eternal changing whims,
    Chasing in the wake of morning shadows married to the night
    Riding past her groping fingers through the dunes of blinding light,
    Aching hands collecting glimpses of a waning starlight dust
    As the tempest ridden fury parts from heart with fading lust.

    In the quiet green of kingdoms sparks a flicker hardly seen
    Braving arrogance of reason with a shield of melting tin...
    “Yes, I know, one day my hero will throw anchor in my bay
    Breathing flaming devastation in a breast that wastes away,
    Yes, I know...”
    and dies the flicker past those crests of dreams unborn,
    In her heart the rose is sleeping, in her finger sleeps the thorn.


    Times so many I sojourned there, playing games inside her mind,
    Leaving trace of scented ribbons dipped in verses green and kind
    As I galloped through her rivers bathing in the thick of blood,
    Spraying in her beating chambers whiffs of me mingled with mud
    Then departing fore the fire rising proudly way out east
    Turned her visions into cinders, leaving strips of dying mist,

    As I ride way back my kingdom herding dreams running astray,
    Whipping my demented fury at those innocents at play...
    “Yes, I know, one day I'll linger way behind the rushing herds
    And betray ancestral duties for the song of morning birds,
    Yes, I know...”
    as through my spirit flowed a fire dressing sin
    Touching the forbidden smoothness of a woman's craving skin.


    Slumber ebbs so ever slowly letting chirrups gaily in,
    Chasing myriads of rainbows floating round her silent grin
    And she sinks inside the linen hugging pillows to her chest...
    “Was it dream, or was it vision touching fire to my breast?
    Was there promise in the whisper?...”
    in her eyes the misty frown
    Melts, as she regards in wonder... one red rose, a thorn, a crown.

    Then she smiles, her rolling laughter follows garnished pearls' trim,
    As she kisses every petal looking for that fading dream,
    Eyelids drop... in fairy dreamlands guarded by the curse of love
    Deep beneath the world of humans roaming mindlessly above,
    In a field of cotton flower tinted amber way through green
    From my lips she breathes the beauty... never was... forever been...



Closing Doors

    Don't look back
    Close your doors
    Kick them with your heel
    Your back turned
    And your hand reaching behind you slamming them shut.

    The door to your rivers of pain
    Dragons biting your heels and tearing pieces of your heart
    Leaving bleeding scars long your soul
    And filling with fearful memories your nights,
    Slashing claws
    And gaping jaws
    And snapping fangs
    And tearing pangs...
    Ripping, ripping, ripping your body
    And leaving it a laments bathed battle field
    Strewn with the corpses of your splintered sanity
    And stinking with the smell of decay, refuse, and death...
    Slam the door shut,
    Nail it to the frame with ten inch long nails
    Studded head to head,
    Then brick it
    Then bury it
    Then forget it.

    The door to your rare puddles of happiness
    So few, so shallow
    Like a poor child's toys trove
    Hidden mid of misery and depth of receding hope
    Raggedy balls
    And raggedy dolls
    And broken glass beads
    And rotten dry seeds...
    Crying, crying, crying hysterically
    As your hungry eyes marvel at the lighted windows
    Where all can reach and hold and buy
    While all you can do is stare and yearn and dream...
    Slam that door,
    Lock and bolt it to the frame with inch thick bolts
    Throw the keys away,
    Then brick it
    Then bury it
    Then forget it.

    The door to your oceans of hope
    Drug induced fantasies poisoning your mind with their artificial sweetness
    Telling of stars never to get within your reach
    And iron clad princes riding shining skeletons of grime unicorns
    Hollow words
    And crushing herds
    And blinding dreams
    And drying streams...
    Shoving, shoving, shoving relentlessly your mind
    Towards the beckoning edge
    Bordering the land of insanity married to illusion
    Happily gaping its black mouth ready to engulf your budding life...
    Slam it, slam it,
    Roll it over and again deep inside the hold of arm thick chains
    Knotted three time three and link to link,
    Then brick it
    Then bury it
    Then forget it.

    Don't look back,
    Look ahead,
    Open wide your eyes and see, embrace,
    Revel in the sun penetrating the cracks in your shutters
    Before you take a deep breath
    And with raging joy
    Break the walls, break the windows, break the doors
    And let your body burn, burn, burn in the might of awakening tomorrow
    Awakening ever after
    Awakening love.


    I stopped talking, afraid, maybe I said too much. Maybe I didn't say enough. Maybe I was dreaming and she was dreaming and our dreams got mixed for a few moments only to separate again and be gone forever and ever and ever...

    Did I feel a soft movement of fingers clasping, then tightening, then breaking through my skin dipping their tips into my blood stream? Was it part of the dream or an additional illusion... or maybe it wasn't a dream after all? Maybe it was... reality?... present?...

    I heard an almost inaudible murmur, I bent swiftly down, my ear pressing against her mouth, drinking in the words, the whispers, the promises.

    "Not a dream... I did it... I locked the door to my unending rivers of pain, nailed it with ten inch long nails, bricked it... locked the door to my old miserable puddles of happiness, locked and bolted it with inch thick bolts, buried it... locked the door to my vast oceans of unimaginable hope, rolled it inside arm thick chains, forgot it..." she burned my eyes inside green suns and I didn't hurt, I just kept listening, reading her lips as they moved, as they undulated spunning their magic... "I broke down the walls, the windows, the doors, letting sun in, letting warmth in..." she closed her eyes but I could still see the blinding green flare penetrating through those transparent eyelids, "... letting infinity in..." she opened her eyes again, "letting... love... in. I love you."




    I listen. A grasshopper's croon
    Lamenting night's ascending moon
    Is seeding shivers depths my soul
    As grisly clouds gracefully swoon.

    I lie. An old wolf's growling stroll
    Lamenting starlight's studded bowl
    Is running ripples through my shell
    As hungry barks my dreams extol.

    I smile. A maiden's singing bell
    Lamenting passion's waning hell
    Is pouring honey noon to noon
    As to my mouth she tends the well.



There By Your Side

    The pain I've seen
    Deep in that green
    Much fierce than tongs stripping your skin,
    Just let me lie
    There by your side
    And cry.

    Your fragile trust
    Crumbling to dust
    I'll rig with steel if die I must
    Or rip my pride,
    There by your side
    I'll hide.

    Love, lay to rest
    The ache in chest
    And let me touch your wanting breast,
    I'll crawl to sleep
    There by your side
    And weep.

    Don't you forget
    The day we met
    We won this life's most awesome bet,
    Now for a while
    There by your side
    I smile...



Small Talk With God

    I bit your flesh
    I sucked your blood
    I roamed inside your mind stealing priceless treasures
    Collecting your most intimate memories
    Your worst nightmares
    Hugging chunks of life off your yielding body,
    More, I wanted more,
    Hungry, insane...

    You let me get away with it,
    Smiling as I stashed away
    Pounds of flesh,
    Gallons of blood,
    So many of your memories, dreams, hopes,
    So much of your life...

    You bitch.
    You selfish arrogant haughty piece of my rib.
    You did not share it all,
    You did not share all of you,
    You kept something to yourself,
    All of it, hidden, secret, unreachable...
    The scrounge.
    The scrounge running through your body and playing hide and seek
    And eating away your life,
    Where is my share,
    Why didn't you feed me at least part of it?
    Your selfishness so cruel,
    My hunger so terrible,
    Do you hate me that much?

    God, please listen this once rather than the other way around,
    Let this be not my poem but my prayer,
    Show your greatness of heart and compassion and heed my desire
    And tear away from her
    My share by law and duty of lover, of husband, of wife,
    Let me revel as well
    In the glory of sharing hell at her side
    And love in her arms.

    Please... can we bargain... half of it? I can pay,
    Of course I can pay,
    I have something you don't own anymore which you certainly want.
    The rest of my life.
    How much of it do you want?

    God. I love her.



Three Women

    (or Another Small Talk With God)

    Let her live, God,
    Let her live.

    You didn't listen to me once,
    Asking for your elusive touch of wonder... what was it that I asked for... breath?
    I begged you, screamed at your gates
    Scrawling infamous graffiti all over them,
    Tore down trees in your garden
    Slashed the wings off angels sent my way
    And smashed the walls of your damnation cells
    Asking for admittance of my soul in your hell
    In return.
    And you moved impassively away
    Leaving my body ravaged and my spirit in tatters.
    But I understand. You had a vacancy for angels and insisted on filling it.
    Yes, I learned to accept.
    Eternal pain.
    But I learned to accept.

    You didn't listen to me twice,
    Asking for your touch of wonder... what was it that I asked for... legs?
    As my bleeding knees marked a path along your alleys
    Dirtying your pavement, refusing to stand up,
    Offering you a treaty signed in my blood
    To be a follower and a leader
    And scream your beauty and fight your wars and seed your existence,
    My human fury and rage ridiculous in your world of impassivity and majestic forevers
    So incompatible with our puny if evers,
    I even offered to believe in you
    Erase the graffiti and replace it by verse
    In return.
    And you sat there immovable in your chair looking the other way
    Leaving my body ravaged and my spirit in tatters.
    I thought I might have been getting immune to it by now. But no.
    But I understand. You said you had a list of priorities and this was not in your top ten.
    Yes, I learned to accept.
    Eternal pain.
    But I learned to accept.

    Third time now. Probably last.
    Will you please listen to me a third time
    As I am begging for your touch of wonder, or shall I turn away forever?
    What is it that I ask for now... life?
    Trying a new approach this time, is this what you are looking for?
    Fine with me,
    There is nothing left but crawling, letting horses trample me,
    Goats ramming me, worms creeping over my eyes,
    And while I hang on there with my nails grabbing the cracks in the gutter
    I plead you a bargain you can't refuse
    Even in your indifference to the stank of my body and groans of my ribs.
    Your balance sheet will stay clean, what is one soul to your bottom line anyway?
    But you are a perfectionist I know, I look at your world,
    There is a reason to everything and I accept your reason and perfection
    And offer to balance the one soul you release
    With my one soul to take over... so easy, so clean, so immaculate.
    Let her out. Let your touch be seen. Let me in
    In return.
    I accept.
    No pain.
    I accept.




    Nothing can vanquish you.

    Tending to your misery
    In the desolation of loneliness and hunger.
    Hunting. Never hunted.

    Rape. Then rape. Then rape.
    Picking up the dredges of self respect
    And building them into a citadel assailed by terrible nightmares.
    Your spirit free. Indomitable.

    Body crumbling. Then body crumbling.
    Never giving up. Never giving up. Never giving up.
    Defending yourself with love, finally there, your absolute weapon.
    You will win. Invincible.


    See, this is this scar here, she said.
    I see it, shaped star, I said.
    Yes, the star I wished upon, she said. Does it sound corny?
    I offered her my hand...

    Rape. Then rape. Then rape.
    These are the three scars here, one still bleeding, she said.
    I touched the bleeding spot,
    A spurt suddenly staining my shirt.
    Sorry, she said, sometimes it still hurts.
    I placed my mouth and kissed it close.
    Better? I asked, worried.
    Better, she said.
    I offered her my mouth.

    Body crumbling. Then body crumbling.
    Touch my wounds, she said, not yet scars. Sorry.
    I looked, scared. Ugly wounds, seething with malice.
    Then pressed my face against them, hugging her.
    What are you doing? she asked, afraid I may have lost my mind to her pain.
    Drinking your blood, I said, it might help.
    Will it pass through your heart? she asked.
    Yes, it will, I said.
    Then I am happy, she said, and fell asleep, smiling.
    I gave her my heart.




    Lady, hope your green of eye
    Stronger's than the blue of sigh,
    Lady, hope your lust for life
    Stronger's than the thrust of knife,
    Lady, hope your crave for light
    Stronger's than the dawn of night.

    Lady, when your pain is through
    You will find me. Next to you.



You There, Green Of Eye

    Flares of molten forest hue
    Dressed so oft in glints of blue,
    Why does grey of cloud at times
    Hide your eyes' twin sparkling rhymes?

    Hush and smile, ignore my plea,
    Tell me not where sleeps the sea
    Whence a stolen cup of dye
    Found its way inside your eye.

    Let love's fire light your gaze,
    Let the spark turn glowing blaze,
    And when winter finds your way
    Let my warmth your aches allay.



The Touch

    I saw her waiting for me,
    How did I recognize her,
    I've never seen her before in my life?

    Was it the impassionate foot stomping
    As I was struggling my way out of officialdom's empire?
    Was it the vibration around her,
    Air particles loaded with her electrifying impatience
    Dancing in the air-conditioned breeze running sparks
    Between her soles and the floor,
    Between the undulating hair ends reflecting their fire
    In the streaming glints flooding her eyes,
    Between her fingertips every time she tried to wipe out
    With terrible inefficiency these streaming glints
    Leaving mascara smears down her cheeks
    Painting her happiness into the prettiest of girlish clowns?

    Was it the green flame that leaped off her eyes,
    Pouring down her face,
    Sizzling long the scorch of her lips
    As it traced the wanting pain in her breasts
    Into the damning sin down her belly
    Falling to the floor
    Leaving coal-burn marks along the airport's carpet
    Chasing my way
    Soaking into the soles of my feet
    Climbing to my knees, to my waking desire,
    To my chest,
    To my mouth willing me inebriated into this
    Immeasurable sweetness?

    Was it the moment we finally stood face to face,
    The dry thud of my suitcase dropping to the floor,
    Her hands taking mine and pulling them around her waist
    While they entwined powerfully at the nape of my neck
    Pulling my head down
    And forcing my lips to obey the pain of burning to ashes
    As her mouth crushed into my life
    With the force of a gale wind beyond human measuring scale?



Life Line

    Black hours. Night,
    The small table lamp fighting away the curiosity of shadows.
    Stalemate, no one wins.
    A yellowish piece of paper lies down before me,
    The bulb's incandescent wire marking shiny spots along it
    As the paper's pale belly hungrily awaits the wet touch of ink
    And words.
    I hesitate. What shall I feed it, memories?
    Maybe a small selection, leaving some more for tomorrow,
    And tomorrow's tomorrow?

    I close my eyes.

    A choice for the picking, what will it be today... eyes? mouth? maybe hands?
    My heartbeat slows down. I wait.
    I allow the choice time to be made, to happen. Slowly.
    Hands? Hands. Decision made.
    Fogs lift, ships' horns sound the assault
    And the sudden thoughts of your hands invade my senses
    Climbing my shores
    Screaming conquerors
    Flooding my decrepit bunkers
    Bayonets attached
    I let them come,
    The bullets punching round clean holes through my skin
    And shredding my insides, seeding my dreams depths of burning sands...
    Sublime... oh, sublime death...

    I look at your fingernails,
    Broken, nicely filed at the edges
    Decorating fingers worn by cleaning and washing and modern miraculous alchemy
    Promising to clean every stain
    Inclusive the baby pink color of your skin...
    So rough,
    Like a newborn chick's feathers
    Touching my skin and exacting its desires
    Till deep creases plough the flesh leaving swollen traces of seeping red rivers.

    Proud of your hold,
    Terrific power hiding in motionless articulations
    Guising a fierce grip
    Inside rarely used delicate piano player movements
    Able to play life outside of my capitulating body...
    By choice
    Preferring to play the music of bending my bones into shapes suitable
    For accommodating the geometries of your body's corners and arcs.

    Your palm,
    I wanted to look at it
    Begged to see your life's line,
    Screamed, scratched, threw a tantrum and broke a plastic glass...
    You refused,
    Speaking in nonsensical corny paraphrases
    Like it's as long as your love
    Or I love the desert
    Or I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine...
    You never opened your fist,
    When holding a spoon,
    When showering,
    When waving good bye,
    Even when driving.
    I never asked again.
    Maybe I was afraid to know.

    One day you asked me to lie down
    You unbuttoned my shirt, pulled it out of the way
    And opened your fist laying your hand palm down upon my left breast.
    What are you doing? I asked.
    Soaking a little life from you. I don't have enough.
    Enough for what? I asked.
    You didn't answer.
    Lost in a world of your own
    Fairies marrying knights and todays ending in tomorrows,
    I wondered which of the two would take precedence.
    Then you lifted your hand,
    Picked up my left hand and sorted out the second finger from left
    And curled your palm around it.
    What are you doing? I asked.
    Now it is long enough to fit around your finger, you said.

    I open my eyes.

    The paper wet,
    Stalemate unchanged,
    Ink smears and symbols understood by none but me staining the paper's surface
    With light and shadows having gone for a lunch break
    And the lone arbiter, me, disinterested in the proceedings.
    I keep looking at my finger.
    A rugged phosphorescent line running all the way around it
    Closing upon itself
    With one single small shapeless stain along it pulsating continuously.
    I start reading my lines, oblivious to their existence,
    And I try to remember.
    As if I could ever forget.




    You know I'll never bring my hurt inside your forest green,
    Though paths forgotten may resound with steps that once have been,
    Just touch my brow and guide my way through clearings barely seen,
    The drifting petals in your wake inside my dreams I'll glean.

    I watched a shadow's grey of thought invade your guileless dreams,
    The blue of clouds for moments few denying laughter's gleams,
    Just let tomorrow's gentle rise bloom into playful beams
    As your bouquet of softest smiles floats down my heartway's streams.

    We ache through depths of hollow lands devoid of lovers cheers,
    And wade in thoughts of times have been through mists of raving fears,
    Just take my hand and let my breath melt down your frozen tears
    And let me rhyme inside your life my heart, my love, my years.



Wishes In Green

    I wish I was the hero
    Astride a coal black mare,
    His touch an angel's whisper,
    His eye a demon's glare,
    Across your burning landscapes
    To fight the beast unseen
    And if so be my calling
    To die inside your green.

    I wish I was the wizard
    His mount a dragon's roar,
    To calm with morning's caress
    The silent raging war,
    And those unborn yet summers
    To plant inside your breast
    Till winter finds my hiding
    And rips my life from chest.

    I wish I was a... poet
    My pen a magic wand
    And wonder seeds on paper
    To wed to hopes beyond,
    But I am but a... poet
    My pen a piece of coal
    I pray... I dream... while failing
    Your beauty to extol.




    I listen. Beautiful silence, almost absolute
    If it wasn't for the damn thunder of my heart
    And the wheezy sound of my nose.
    Damn this cold, I hate having a cold and a running nose
    Especially when I try to write something.
    Silence also in my head,
    Ideas chasing greener pastures in other poets' heads
    And leaving me wanting and lonely.
    I close my eyes and start cursing the inefficiency of thought transfer
    From person to person, from head to paper,
    Something should be invented to memorize snippets of thoughts
    And shards of dreams into coherent words.
    I will wait, if I don't fall asleep then certainly something will come
    I assure myself as I watch the neighbour hanging up colored lights
    And trying them out.

    I hide in the shadows,
    Watching glints from the running lights reflecting from her lips
    Glints of red, of blue, then a cascade of yellow then again red...
    From her lips?... I suddenly wonder,
    Aren't glints supposed to reflect from eyes
    Alive with the excitement of kids waking up in adult dresses
    Accepting for one day to forget reality and remember delight?
    These are traces of tears, she says, on my lips.
    You see me? I ask.
    No, I sense you, she answers while her hands deftly keep wrapping the presents.
    I watch her intently, tracing the fatigue lines on her forehead,
    Discerning with effort the thin ragged lines descending from her eyes,
    Long her cheeks,
    And then touching her lips before ending inside her mouth.
    The blue flicker of a neon light merges with the reflection
    Creating a soft phosphorescent glow.
    A descending glimmer follows its brothers sliding down
    Along the predefined path
    Resting at times and then hesitatingly rolling on
    Till her tongue suddenly licks the upper lip ending its miraculous short journey.
    How can you sense me? I ask, wondering for real,
    I am thousands of miles away and just sat down to write this poem.
    She doesn't stop, picks up a red ribbon and ties it around the small colorful box,
    Kisses it and lays it in her pocket.
    Then she picks up a big box and continues wrapping.
    I knew you would come, for your present... she smiles.
    I did not know there was a present for me... I insist,
    Knowing there is no real answer to my questions but stubborn enough to try.
    And you are supposed to be surprised once you get my poem, I drone on
    Not displeased at her sensitivity
    But disappointed at my inadequacy of camouflage.
    I will be surprised, don't worry,
    Once you go I will forget all about it and never remember it again.
    But right now I want to enjoy it.

    Her eyes look directly through me, does she see me too?
    Why did you cry? I ask.
    You were late, I thought you forgot me, she answers,
    I felt like tasting something salty, I chose tears.
    So easy to have, and they cost nothing...

    They cost sorrow, I say.
    No, she says, they cost happiness, that's why I didn't want to lose them.
    Finally you remembered.
    Do you want to know what is your present?

    Yes, I do, the child in me stirring out of control for a moment.
    She smiles, the glitter mounting now from her lips to her eyes,
    Oh, these starry skies...
    Sorry, you will have to wait like everybody else, she says,
    Touching the pocket which swallowed the small box.
    Why? I ask.
    Because it has to be a surprise.
    But I saw it already, at least I saw you wrapping the box, the surprise is gone.
    Again the smile, this time the glitter seems to light up her skin
    And thousands of fireflies keep changing position all over her body.
    You will forget too, once you are back home.
    I don't want to go back home.
    You have to, otherwise what will dreams be made of? Reality?
    I try to move, but find it impossible.
    I want to kiss you, I say, I love you.
    She doesn't answer, I am not sure if she hears me or not.
    I love you, I say.
    No, she says, you are in love with me,
    That's the reason you asked me to buy you this present.

    I asked you to buy me this present? I ask surprised. I don't even know what it is.
    Shush... she whispers, getting up and coming my way,
    Touching a finger to her eye and picking a tear
    Then placing it on my lip. I taste it, cool, salty.
    I thought you didn't see me... I manage to murmur.
    I don't, she murmurs back, her lips close to my ear.
    Why did you give me your tear? I ask.
    Once you shared my pain, you are ready to share my life.
    She moves back to the chair,
    Touching again slightly her pocket,
    Then she starts humming a tune
    And I wonder, as my vision blurs and slumber sneaks gracelessly inside my mind,
    If I didn't hear it before somewhere
    In a different time, in a different place,
    So real that it certainly could not have been a dream.

    The door bell wakes me up,
    And I stumble wearily to the door,
    Sneaking an angry regard to the messy markings I made on the paper.
    Damn, I remember nothing and I hope I made some sense last night.
    I open the door, sign the receipt and rattle the box in my hand
    Trying to guess its content.
    Hey, I hope this is not some joke, I think to myself
    And who the hell would send me a present? I add
    As I tear the paper away
    Carelessly opening the box.
    A round piece of metal clangs to the floor rolling away
    And cobwebs start building intricate memory patterns inside my mind.

    I unfold the carefully folded piece of paper
    And neatly handwritten words rush into my eyes
    Clinging to the ever growing maze of souvenirs desperately fighting for recognition.

    Not to honor
    Not to keep
    Not to comfort
    Not to reap
    But to share one shred of heart
    Till us death will never part...




    Don't read.
    Close your eyes,
    Let your fingertips glide along the hardly perceptible indentations
    Burnt into the hugging softness of paper,
    Words, sentences, signs,
    And listen to the music... do your fingertips hear the music?...
    Help me hone my senseless banter into your life's reason
    While I tune my pen to the sound of your smiles
    Counting the number of teeth showing
    As a childish laughter
    Suddenly rips your face into two disassociated halves
    Barely holding together...

    Let your fingertips glide,
    Ploughing through the stained jumble
    Carved by the shudder of my hand
    Upon the crimples laden surface
    Till they find it, sharp, invincible, unpardoning... the thorn...
    And as it ruptures your skin releasing the flow of blood to its freedom
    The bloodhounds of my ink snap onto your blood's trail
    Chasing the dripping stains of life
    Never to release their hold again,
    Never allowing the wound to heal,
    Driving the teeth ever deeper
    As the poison pours relentlessly into your awakening life's stream...
    And as your skin turns blue,
    And your eyes turn fire,
    And your mouth turns silent
    Your lips start singing the purity of felicity
    And the tenderness of wild ravaging passion.



The Ugly Duckling

    She wasn't young,
    Not in her prime anymore.
    Life hasn't been kind to her
    And scars still showed up visibly on her body.
    In her mind.

    I am an ugly duckling, she kept saying,
    All the beautiful ducks have grown
    And flown away to warmer lands,
    To loving arms
    Sometimes not even waving goodbye.
    I stayed behind.

    She kept reading and re-reading the story,
    Doesn't the ugly duckling in the end turn into a swan
    And marries the handsome prince
    And everyone envies her forever after?

    She even tried different editions,
    Who knows,
    Someone in the editing department may have been mistaken
    And made a false promise
    For good or for bad,
    And maybe reality and book were closer with other publishers
    So she wouldn't have to hope or wait any longer,
    Reality would suit her nice
    If the book would tell her that her reality was reality.
    She even tried a French edition, even though she did not understand much of it.
    But the books insistently kept telling her about a swan
    And every morning she kept looking in the mirror hoping,
    And the duckling never got any prettier. And life any sweeter.
    And the books kept promising
    And she believed the promise as long as it was written.
    Waiting. Years.

    One day a magician came to town,
    Shabby, all he had was a hat and a rabbit.
    He was a good magician but the town was busy making money
    And not wasting it on magicians
    So he performed for his pleasure in the city square
    And she was the only one present
    Awed at the many ways in which his rabbit appeared and disappeared in the hat,
    Once even changing its color.
    She paid putting a coin in his hat. He picked up the coin and turned to leave.
    She pulled his sleeve.
    "Tell me, magician, can you do magic?"
    "I do it every day."
    "Then can you do magic for me? I will give you one more coin."
    He took her coin, and by magic... there were two coins in his hand.
    He returned one to her.
    "Now tell me which magic do you want me to do for you, lady?"
    She showed him the book.
    "The book is not true, the ugly duckling never turns into a swan.
    It stays ugly. Can you change the story for me?
    The magician loaded his tools of trade in his carriage,
    Made the rabbit disappear in his hat and put the hat on his head.
    "Why do you want me to change the story?
    People usually want me to change their life to be like the story,
    Not the other way around."
    She gave him again a coin and by magic there were two in his hand
    And he returned one to her.
    "Keep doing that and we will both become rich," he laughed and turned to go.
    "If the book stays as is then I keep believing it and I waste my life waiting.
    I don't want to wait, I want to go on.
    "Give me one more coin," he asked.
    She gave him the coin again, and again there were two coins in his hand
    And he returned one to her.
    "You see, there is magic..." he started,
    "This is no magic," she said,
    "You are showing me always the same two coins," she smiled.
    He continued his sentence as if there was no interruption
    "...if you believe in it. Do you believe in magic?"
    "I do."
    "Fine," he said, opening his palm and showing her three coins.
    "I do not wish to change the books, this is too easy.
    I wish to change your reality.
    Shall I change the books or your reality?"
    "My... books... please change my books."
    He looked genuinely surprised.
    "And you believe in magic?"
    "Yes I do," she said eyeing the three coins.
    "And you prefer that I change your books."
    "I prefer that I live in reality."
    "Not in magic?"
    She did not answer. Silent.

    He took the book from her hand and put it in his carriage
    And covered it by a thin veil.
    Then he removed the veil and picked up the book.
    She smiled,
    "Can I now please have it?"
    "Just a moment, let's see if it worked... hmmm... seems it did.
    Shall I read it to you?"
    "No, I want to read it."
    She picked the book from his hand and turned to the last page.
    Smiling again.
    "... and the ugly duckling grew into a beautiful ugly duck."
    There were tears in her eyes. She closed the book.
    "Thank you." She turned to go.
    "Wait, you did not read the last page."
    She hesitated... "...but I did..." and opened the last page again.
    "... a beautiful flower in her hair."
    She picked up the fresh daisy from her hair and looked at it uncomprehending.
    "You said you believed in magic."
    He finished closing his carriage.
    "Wait, you did not read the last page."
    "...but..." and opened it again, still hesitating.
    "... a beautiful letter in her pocket."
    She inserted thin fingers inside her skirt's pocket and picked up a folded paper,
    Unfolded it and read out loud. "I love you."
    "Oh, no, lady, not me, I am but a magician..." he laughed, "I did not write it,
    I just fulfilled your wish and changed the book, adapted it to reality.
    Do me a favor, read that last page once again..."
    She did not ask, did not hesitate this time.
    "... and she felt like the most beautiful of swans..."
    He picked up the carriage and started going.
    "Wait where are you hurrying?..."
    He laughed, not stopping and not looking back...
    "I don't know, you left that last sentence unfinished
    And I am afraid you might want the money back."
    He started running, laughing, his carriage making an insupportable din.
    She lowered her eyes to the page again.
    "... knowing her prince was on his way."

    She closed the book, tied her scarf around it and tucked it under her arm,
    Smiling, all the time smiling.
    I will never open the book again, she swore.
    There is magic, I know.
    There is a prince coming my way.
    I am a swan.

    She did not stop singing all the way home.




    in collection: not a sonnet

    Traced you in the desert,
    Did not know there was a desert
    Till I found you
    And then apprehended its vastness
    Wondering to myself... how didn't I find it earlier,
    The desert?

    I sat down in front of you,
    Watching your petals push out,
    Unfolding, drinking in sun,
    Bees hovering in droves... not daring...
    I did not dare move either
    Lest the desert discovers me
    And I lose your trace.




    in collection: not a sonnet

    So powerful
    The flake drifting my way
    In a clear cloudless sky
    An oven called sun feeding life bites
    To lovers offering flowers to lovers
    And birds' song.

    Snowflake, drifting alone in the world
    Looking for love, not giving up
    Even under the burning glare of the fire god
    And asking me if I cared to love her.
    I said yes,
    And the breeze carried her my way
    Where she lay down on my finger
    Hugging it with her love.

    And my figer's warmth soaked inside her delicate features
    And she melted away
    Never asking why
    Never stopping loving me.

    And I never stopped asking myself... why did she drift my way to die?




    in collection: not a sonnet

    I looked around me,
    Yellow skies, red grass
    Two green suns hanging above, blinking from time to time.
    I was alone, no movement except a falling leaf.
    I asked it - forgive me
    I am a stranger here
    Why these odd colors? Why do the suns blink?

    Because you are in a painting, it answered.
    Paintings have colors of their own
    And these are her colors, waiting for him,
    She didn't know what he likes.
    And the suns don't blink.

    I insisted. She? He? And the suns do blink.
    But the leaf melted into the asphalt and the suns blinked again.

    Wake up, lover, wake up, she said, was it a nightmare?
    I looked up at her, unsure.
    If you painted the world, what would you paint the skies, the grass?
    She laughed. Why, yellow and red of course.
    And the people, what about people?
    There is only one person I would care to paint, she smiled and kissed me.
    And the sun? I asked further, seriously, how would you paint the sun?
    She looked down at me, the smile mounting from her mouth to her eyes, blinking.
    In my world, lover, the only sun you would ever need would be my eyes.

    She was right, I knew. I saw it with my own eyes.
    Then it was not a nightmare, it was a wish.




    in collection: not a sonnet

    Let me break your shirt's buttons.
    Let me rip off your clothes,
    Tear the intimate straps covering your nakedness
    And peel off the remainder of the lace
    Before opening my eyes.

    Let me wash your face clean of makeup.
    Let me bathe you in aromatic foam,
    Pour crushed lilac flower essence over your nakedness
    And lick away the drops lingering on your lips
    Before carrying you to my lair.

    Let me taste the softness of your skin.
    Let me touch your sun clear patches,
    Paint with the brush of fingertips my passion on your nakedness
    And claw away at the last vestiges of shyness
    Before dying inside your body.



Almost Rage

    in collection: not a sonnet

    Drink your wine,
    Leave a mouthful of sweetness to pour down my throat
    With a demanding kiss
    Oblivious to traces sliding along chin
    Staining skin, clothes, satin bed sheets,
    Let me taste your sweetness
    And your bitterness
    And your life
    As you angrily ask back drops tasting like my mouth
    After finishing its travel along your body
    Picking up crushed pieces of opening buds and closing flowers.

    Let me guide you
    Holding your lips
    And crushing your spine
    Into my life.




    Pour your flesh upon me,
    Let it glide upon my bones
    As you wake up inside your dream
    And mould me in the shape of your earthly desires,
    Ridge my blandness into the landscapes of your lock
    Guiding me to its hideout
    On the banks of the river,
    Underneath of the willow,

    Where pebbles turn stone
    And murmurs turn moan
    And flowers turn weed
    And cherries turn seed
    And heavens turn shell
    And fires turn hell
    When verses turn none
    And poems turn one

    Till fading love's chime
    Asleep is in rhyme...

    "Wait a moment," you say, "I thought that only lovers turn one."
    "You thought right, my love," I answer, "Lovers are poems unwritten,
    Waiting for that bewitching hand to lay them side by side
    While crimson of cherries
    The slashing tooth marries
    And heaving chests flatten
    On whiteness of satin
    Oblivion descending
    On love never ending

    And rearranges the lines,
    The words, the tunes
    Till the rhyme is perfect and the music sublime and the poesy divine...

    I turn inside your lock
    And let dying spring drown me in awakening summer
    In a world barren of all senses but one...



In The Morning

    when your eyes flutter in wonder at the rainbow's perfect line,
    in your tears inverse reflections... glinting smiles inside a shrine,
    when your heart thunders desire merging agony with lust,
    in my ears the echo crushing... raving sighs to whisper dust,
    when your words paint worlds forgotten inside memories unborn,
    cramming stars inside my pages... all my morrows to adorn,

    when you wake from yonder landscapes filled with eros' scented wine,
    and the flesh craves endless vineyards... and you burn... you light... you shine...




    Do you remember your bridal gown?
    People shading their eyes
    As its whiteness shined blindingly
    In fierce competition with the paleness of your skin...
    So fragile, flawless, perfect... virginal...

    Do you remember the fire crowning your head?
    Leaping flames licking the small crown upon your forehead
    As your hair sparked red glints like a bonfire out of control
    Ragingly competing with the red of your lips...
    So warm, hot, scorching... primeval...

    Do you remember spring dancing in your eyes?
    Freshly born leaves conquering the world
    And painting it the green of emerald set in diamond as never seen before
    Madly competing with depths of coral seas...
    So sharp, innocent, passionate... celestial...

    Do I remember the white, red, green?
    I wish I did, oh, I wish I did...



Beautiful Moments

    Sitting on my knees, arms around my neck
    My arms around your waist
    Tight, secure,
    A closed universe
    Impenetrable to outsiders, to life, to reality...
    People laughing, drinking, singing,
    We hear nobody
    Except whispers masking all noise out
    And penetrating directly from your eyes
    Into my mind
    And sliding into slots
    Hungrily awaiting their match,
    So perfect...

    Eating across from me, chewing slowly
    Each bite a tortuous eternity
    Of delight
    As I watch crumbs falling on your plate
    Sorry for their plight
    When they scream in despair having lost the one opportunity
    To slide inside your body
    And join the ecstatic masses
    Sliding down your throat
    Ready to sacrifice their ephemerality
    For the pleasure of joining your body
    Before I ravish the right of entry
    And bind your mouth
    Into an ageless pact
    Of passion...

    Pushing a shopping cart
    My one hand on the handle
    The other in yours,
    Your one hand on the shelves
    The other in mine,
    Never losing hold for a moment
    Afraid reality will turn dream
    And dream turn awakening
    And awakening turn reality beyond touch
    Where bodies ply in terrible pain
    For minds screaming for relief
    Through fingers groping for a hold
    Back from reality into awakening into dream
    Into reality of fingers splintering under the crushing weight
    Of muscles refusing to let go
    As flesh melts into flesh
    And blood streams unite...

    Averting tear loaded eyelashes
    Lest chills howling through heart
    Turn them into icicles
    Hunting with dripping spikes
    Chests welded into a shapeless ball of pain
    Soaking leftovers of warmth
    From dissipating memories
    Till, later, abiding unrelenting laws of gravitation,
    The green masters pull back into view
    Letting sparks cross the air gap
    And threatening to char my face
    And rip my lips
    With anger
    Before softening into a breeze
    And excising
    A promise to return...




Random Rhyme, Random Chime

    Binding desires
    And fires...

    Smashing kisses
    To pieces...

    Of lust
    Turning dust...

    To lie
    Then cry?...

    She didn't like it.
    "I don't like your poetry," she said.
    "Too simplistic."
    "Wait," I said, "Let me try again..."
    But she left,
    Breaking my heart.

    It took me fifteen years, I tried, did my best in schools,
    I even took high studies.
    Night classes.

    Rip to shreds those chaining wires
    As the fading raw desires
    Go to sleep with dying fires.

    Mindless garlands of caprices
    Taint the summer's sweetest kisses
    With a brush of broken pieces.

    Comes a moment, comes a gust
    Flesh alights in flaming lust
    Trails a memory in dust.

    Gone is reason's aging why
    As a silent, weeping lie
    Asks a lover not to cry.

    She didn't like it either. Not the same she. Not the same like.
    "I don't like your poetry," she said.
    "I don't like poetry at all."
    "Wait," I said, "I will write a story..."
    But she left,
    And didn't take my heart, she didn't see any use for broken hearts.

    It took me another fifteen years.
    I bought dictionaries, bought records, went to theatre,
    Gave up my friends and got a bleeding nose fighting free verse.

    Let me slide unbroken petals long unending silken wires
    Leaving trail of barren valleys in the wake of my desires
    Glinting sorrowfully ashen in my devastating fires.

    I will weave three thousand roses through your thorniest caprices
    Early mornings I will dress you honeysuckle spiced with kisses
    And will lay you dinner's table with my heart's forbidden pieces.

    Out of deepest raging desert I will rob a slender gust
    From a weak and shy pretender to be groomed a raving lust
    When we die in passion's fury nothing rests... but golden dust.

    Night. My drunken senses call me asking when, then asking why
    And I break the stubby pencil fearing nightmare's coming lie
    Stinking vomit hugs my body as I fold before I cry.

    Nobody liked my poetry. Except for her. Another her.
    "I like you," she said.
    "I like your poetry."
    "Wait," I said, "Do you like me because of my poetry or my poetry because of me?"
    She didn't leave, she answered kissing me.
    "Is it not the same?" She took my heart. Forever.



Remember The

    Remember the night?
    That tender delight...

    We knew tomorrows belong to another world,
    One single today was all we had and wanted
    Stretching it through endless whispers,
    Shy laughter, barely audible,
    Incantations guised as groans lest some deity discovers the trick
    And breaks the mirage
    By letting night trespass
    Into damning morning territory and morrow reality...
    Pity, we fell asleep and magic died inside our restless dreams
    And when we woke up... startled, angry...
    Tomorrow had won its first round.

    Remember the song?
    That you hummed along...

    Words, so many words written by so many poets
    Which you knew by heart
    And refused to stop singing knowing
    That once silence lays down its soft blanket over our minds
    Gates open
    And time gallops by with no one to bar its way
    In its mindless rush towards an eternity
    Marking the way with endless temptation traps
    Leading the witless rider to his perdition
    Dragging in its wake silently dreaming lovers, us...
    We woke up, enraged, powerless as we heard silence
    Witnessing under oath about
    Another of tomorrow's victories.

    Remember your heart?
    When we had to part...

    We lost battle after battle,
    Today after today slain by a demented furious tomorrow
    Angry at our dare,
    Its vengeance cruel,
    No quarter be given to lovers facing tomorrow's inevitability
    With passion worth of worlds where tomorrows are damned
    And todays last forever
    And nights are endless
    And songs never run out of words...
    We accepted defeat, we accepted reality, we smiled
    Knowing that while battles may be lost,
    Seeds of never ending love are furiously ripening inside our chests.



Music Line

    The line was crackling with noise.
    Seemed that all phone companies
    Channelled their noise to my line
    Taking terrible revenge for the cheap rates I was using.
    "Sing, love..." I asked her,
    My mind singularly locked on that most basic of needs,
    Feeling the need to a level of pain inside my bones,
    "Please, sing my love..."
    She started singing, hesitatingly at start
    Then louder, confidence gaining,
    The flow smoother, the tune almost recognizable,
    I could hardly hear it, hardly understand it in my earphones.
    I turned on the loudspeakers,
    Adjusted some filters
    And closed the door connecting me to the rest of the house.
    My dog cowered under the chair playing dead.
    Oh... that awfully wonderful crackle colored by semblance of music.

    "My dog is howling..." I told her
    And the crystal in her laughter cut as sharp as if she was next to me
    Leaving a thin trace of blood on my cheek.
    She chose another song,
    Same crackling strangled noises emanating from the electronics
    Hypnotizing me with the sheer audacity of trying to sing this way
    And leading to loud protests from the shrieking loudspeakers.
    "My dog is howling..." I lied to her again
    And pumped up the volume to allow another diamond clear laughter
    To cut thin lines across the windows peeking from behind my shoulder
    Into the computer screen
    Almost to the level of exploding in millions of fragments.
    She was going to close the link,
    Shopping was next on her list...
    "Please, my love... please, one more song..."
    I knew she would,
    If she was tied to a car's departing bumper she would still do it
    Because she loved me.
    She started a third song.
    "My dog is howling..." I repeated myself and my ears quivered in anticipation.
    "You are repeating yourself..." she barely succeeded to say.
    "I know... I just want to hear your laughter..." I answered.

    She cut traces across my skin,
    Followed by traces across the windows,
    Then petals sheared off freshly opened buds floating down to my feet
    Till I was sunk knee deep in a puddle of colorful fragrances
    Swirling in invisible eddies...
    Then she finished laughing, sent me a kiss and closed the link.
    I lay on the floor, hugged the dog and went to sleep.
    I was the only human ever known to have dreamed in sounds.
    I was the only human she ever loved.



Lover, Lover

    Lover, lover, let me borrow
    Apples ripened in your sorrow
    And I'll pay my due with hours
    Broken off my short tomorrow.

    Lover, lover, through the Valley
    Of One Thousand Pains your galley
    Drags its rattling pebbles burden
    As you search that golden alley.

    Lost where hope dares not to follow
    And your craves in nightmares wallow
    Bloody traces trail your passing
    Filling up the gaping hollow.

    Lover, lover, see that glimmer
    As my days are getting dimmer
    Soaks the power in your passion
    Follow down the waking shimmer.

    Lover, lover, heed my hunger
    Let me trade with morrows' monger
    Summers bartered for the pleasure
    In your arms to die so younger.




    Never knew you existed,
    Living in the bliss of ignorance,
    Living in the certitude that I knew all there was to know
    About love, lovers, loving,
    And accepting as fact that life had uncovered for me all its secrets
    Sharing with me the greedy passion of the glowing spots underneath its robes
    And the serene knowledge roving inside the coldness of its indifferent mind.
    So many levels of grey... so beautiful, all of them so clear to me.

    Then I opened the door to walk out and... you walked in.
    Were you there, waiting for me?

    The hunter reaching for its prey,
    Late sunshine dragging into day,
    Beads of insanity at gate
    Along with pain in silent wait,
    An infant's lay,
    Late blooming May,
    A promised dream, a smiling mate?...

    A smiling mate?... you echoed my thoughts
    As you entered the room,
    Kicked shut the door
    And took possession of my breath?

    I know fairies do not exist, I know.
    I am as logical and as realistic as any poet could be
    And know that dreams are but induced thoughts dressed in fantasies.
    Yet, when I opened my eyes and found the wound,
    I could not but hesitate in this absolute conviction
    And hide my hesitation from peers and world.
    You see, when I regarded the tooth mark on my chest
    I could swear it opened wings
    Opened eyes,
    And closed itself back into a shapeless scar upon my left breast.

    She found her place, content.
    And as madness rolls her wagons upon the endless trails of my mind,
    My only comfort is that now, at last, I am not alone.
    A fairy joined me.
    In a colorless world, the green of those eyes are unmistakable proof.
    Fairies exist. And one of them encrusted its colors inside my heart.



Bird Of Love

    Bird of love serene of beauty
    Seeds I feed you sweet and fruity
    All I ask is you surrender
    Live with me a life of splendor
    Warm and tender.

    Bird of love my life be tragic
    Let us dance to rippling magic
    Riding floating crystal galleys
    As your rhyme through sunny valleys
    Rainbows rallies.

    Bird of love you touch my morrow
    Oh, you pecked my bitter sorrow
    Open up your wings in wonder
    As my soul to rolling thunder
    Breaks asunder.

    Bird of love your freedom’s calling
    Soar your way, don’t watch my falling...
    Lover sweet, if I be flying
    And your love for me be crying
    I be dying...



Goodbye Stains

    The stain,
    Suddenly flowing away from your eyes' sanctuary
    Left eye first,
    Spreading out,
    Its amorphous shape feeling its way hesitatingly down your cheek
    Its green trailing leftovers of blue mascara
    And crimson rouge
    And stretching longingly thin aquarelle fingers back home to your irises
    Yet irresistibly drawn to the wet harbour of your mouth
    Where the hunger of the dragon tries to extinguish itself
    In such ridiculous manner...

    You use a thumb
    Trying to wipe it away
    Yet all you do is smear it further
    Towards your nose
    Even your ear lobe,
    A living work of art changing its shape as I look
    And all you are able to achieve
    Is to leave a fingerprint somewhere between your right eye
    And your upper lip.
    The artist, the art, the signature.

    The ephemeralness of the creation
    Locked in the eternity hiding behind the shutters of my eyes.

    Keep your eyelids down lover, please, keep your eyelids down,
    I am afraid to look into the deserted irises,
    Green oases turned the desert white of drying lakes
    Shimmering away their blinding beauty
    Till all there is left is
    Crumbling mounds of salt.
    I wince as you open your eyes,
    I dare...
    And glints of green slowly pull dregs of sanity back into my mind
    And I drown inside the lakes.

    I cannot help but notice the leftovers of a green thumbprint
    On your cheek
    Wondering how it got there
    As my senses join my body
    In its interminable quest for the bottomless serenity of those lakes.



The Waiting Room

    The darkness of waiting
    So deep
    That I blink and can't see the difference.
    If it was not for the temporary soothing effect
    Of extinguishing the burning layers covering my eyes
    I would not have known I blinked at all.
    Till the fire erupts again and I blink again.
    Same darkness,
    This most absolute of no colors
    And ignorance,

    I keep my eyes closed
    Nevertheless trying desperately to get some color into my life,
    My eyes screaming for knowledge
    In the enveloping nothingness
    As dancing eddies of air carry my way the sounds of
    Shivering threads of fear
    Weaving themselves into a blanket of anxiety
    While strange hands touch your body uninvited
    Indifferent voices command you around
    Undressing you, tying your hands, sticking long needles into the slothful bane
    Residing cosily inside your depths
    And dreamily feeding itself plump in your life's gardens...

    I hear your scream of pain,
    The blackness suddenly whipped into existence by a razor thin line of green torment
    Cutting through my skin into my bone into my marrow,
    Green... I remember this green as I respond with a bestial howl
    Blindly groping forward trying to touch, to catch, hold...
    The line dies out, no trace,
    The thick tears in my eyes trying to magnify the view unsuccessfully
    And just the dark getting darker...
    Can black be blacker?
    I ask myself
    As I curl into foetal position licking the pus suppurating from my cuts
    And scenting faint traces of your mascara drifting through the air.

    The darkness lingers,
    Impassive, insolent.
    I rest curled down knowing that my duty is to wait
    Long as it takes,
    Continuously howling in the pain of the green flashes
    Till the one moment comes,
    When I open my eyes,
    And I see this single green dot advancing my way
    Breaking through walls
    Smashing through darkness
    Swelling, enveloping my prostrated figure in the warmth of a pulsating glow
    And slowly seeping through the open wounds into my heart
    Telling me with the silken touch of absolute tenderness
    Home... finally... back home...



The Wait

    Freezing cold,
    My phone mute,
    I watch it pleading for the all liberating ring
    Running its flags-abounding parade through the air
    Carried by a herd of rampaging horses
    Straight into my ears
    When I tear the receiver off the cradle
    And listen to the familiar giggle on the other side...
    I tear the receiver off the cradle... silence...
    Damn you imagination
    As I smash it back onto its base
    Waking up muffled metallic bell sounds, damn illusion of reality...

    I feel the shiver running up my arms
    Through my shoulders
    Creeping down my belly where it hesitates before closing a vicious fist
    Around my entrails forcing me to curl and roll and groan
    As terror driven torture runs cordial errands through my frame
    Hopping from station to station in a flurry of loathsome joy
    Letting the scream in my head bounce between the skull's walls
    And hitting... hitting... hitting...
    I tear the receiver off the cradle... silence...
    Welcome you wretchedness
    As I smash it back onto its base
    Revelling in the agony bonding us for blessed moments, damn illusion of reality...

    The frozen stare looking back at me from the mirror,
    When did I get here I ask myself
    Seeking comprehension in the shaving cuts crisscrossing my face
    With red smeared declarations of unwarranted love
    As the sharp steel abusively touches my skin
    Deceiving my foolhardy senses into believing
    That a touch of much awaited serenity reaches out from the mirror
    And calls my name with sweet siren abandon...
    I tear the receiver off the cradle... silence...
    Away you buzzards
    As I smash it back onto its base
    And watch lips licking the dried up splotches of blood, damn illusion of reality...



The Price

    Take the steel in me
    I offer it at going market price, cheap,
    The only steel able to build the sword and shield to battle your dragons,
    Take it and let the scaffold supporting my flesh crumble down
    In veneration to your life.

    Take my wings
    I offer them cheaper than any offer you may get, try,
    Because no one else has the wings that can carry your dreams to those heights,
    Take them and let my body fall to its perdition into mother earth's embrace
    So desireful of your life.

    Take the dreams I nurture
    I offer the cheapest dreams you may find even in the darkest of alleys, ask,
    Dreams that can heal wounds deeper than bleeding flesh smeared with poison,
    Take them and let my color laden nights turn the pale white of moon
    Singing poems to your life.

    The price you ask?
    Oh, so cheap, trust me...
    Your life, dear lover, pay me with your life.

    And you may forget me.



Silly Sing, Silly Song

    in collection: sillies

    Long the spiral of a shell
    Down of ocean's darkest well
    Hides a maiden's tender, lone
    Magic spell.

    Depth the loudness of a rant
    Hidden whispers softly grant
    Guise to lover's secret, pure
    Magic chant.

    Round a broken grain of dune
    Hind a lonely desert tune
    Sleeps a girl's forgotten, sweet
    Magic rune.

    "Maiden, girl, oh, lover dear
    If my heart I have to shear
    I will share with you my life's

    Magic spell hides in my art
    Rune and chant guise in my dart
    Let me sleep and sink and die
    In your heart."

    "Silly boy, oh, lover dear
    Let me share your pain and fear
    I will drink my potion's due
    From your tear.

    Maybe magic paints your art
    Rune and chant poison your dart
    But my life and dreams I'll drink
    From your heart."



Silly Melancholy Song

    in collection: sillies

    I will write you epics long
    Rolled inside a silly song
    Then I'll smile, you will not see
    The melancholy in me,
    Right or wrong.

    From my heartscape I will reap
    Silly songs for you to keep,
    You will sip the magic tune,
    The melancholy of June
    Cutting deep.

    Here I sit at end of day
    Casting silly songs away
    Hoping that one day in spring
    My melancholy will bring
    Whiffs of May.

    Laughter paints my lips anew
    Singing silly songs, so few,
    Never wish to feel again
    The melancholy of pain...
    Losing you.



Silly Valentine Song

    in collection: sillies

    I woke up in this silly mood
    I turned in wings, and harp, and hood,
    The guard on duty asked me... Why
    You want to leave this patch of sky?
    The pay is good...

    You better curb this silly thirst.
    I didn't answer, not at first,
    I stretched, then shaved, then showered cold,
    And other things... which stay untold
    Or I be cursed...

    I packed some silly things, some clouds,
    Two out of fashion starry shrouds,
    A scaled down copy of His seat,
    Some lightning bolts... well, I might meet
    Some scary crowds...

    Then nicely asked my silly guard
    To put away his thunder shard
    You know, I told him, I'm too young
    I don't mind mining tons of dung
    But not be charred...

    Just let me take my silly leave
    Not all the cherubs are naïve,
    I'll tell Him, if he does not grant
    He'll have to cope with endless rant
    And petty peeve.

    Don't bar my way, your silly bulk
    Like... what's his name?... the green thing... 'Hulk',
    You'll fall to earth 'cause you know what?
    I've learned some judo, silly butt,
    You'll skid then sulk...

    Much Silly Thanks... a light then shone
    I was admitted to the throne,
    I was afraid, but what the heck
    All I could lose was get my neck
    In twilight zone...

    Well, silly me... He looked me down,
    Upon His head the sunlit crown,
    At sign of hand the room turned bare
    He didn't want a soul to share
    His sorrowed frown.

    He thundered... Silly years ago
    I gave you seven rangs of glow,
    I made you cherub number three,
    An immortality degree,
    And now you go?

    You silly, for one green of eye,
    And red of hair, and sweet of sigh,
    You give it up, the song, the might,
    The beauty of eternal light,
    And Me defy?

    I know her silly ache for you
    You met her on a bed of dew,
    Her human beauty rends your heart,
    Her touch has torn your soul apart,
    I know you're true.

    I'll test your heart... this silly crown,
    This sunset painted silken gown,
    To touch you can, to wear you may
    If in My kingdom you will stay
    And heed My frown...

    Yet, silly you, if leave you will
    To join humanity's long chill
    You'll lose your home, your sky, your star,
    And on your brow you'll wear a scar
    By holy quill...

    I kneeled, my tears a silly waste,
    My Lord, if I'm forever chased
    From home and sky and star and You
    And tenderness in You I knew...
    Oh, bitter taste...

    Then... silly me, her green of eye
    So stronger than my fear of die
    Her red of hair, her soft of skin
    So stronger than my fear of sin
    Dear Lord... good bye...

    My silly mind... was it a tear
    His icy eyes to seem to shear?...
    I fell asleep, inside a dream
    I thought I'm sliding long a beam
    And drown in fear...


    I shivered... what's that silly sound...
    A car... my God... I had to bound
    And fell headlong into a ditch...
    A lesson self I'll have to teach
    Next time around...

    I entered... silly... Ladies' Room
    (the Men's had faced a vandal's doom)
    I stripped to waist to wash the mud...
    I heard a giggle, then a thud,
    A sweet perfume...

    Oh, silly shame, she stepped right in
    She watched askance my pallid skin,
    Then took a hankie from her shirt
    And neared to clean my brow from dirt...
    This wound... so thin...

    Oh, eyes... one silly inch away,
    Oh, answers to forgotten pray,
    Oh, green of forest's life to claim,
    Oh, red of hair a sunrise flame,
    I beg you... stay...

    Oh, silly smile... I'll never leave...
    Buttoned my shirt, then sleeve, then sleeve,
    Then traced the scar upon my brow
    Her whisper soft, her eyes aglow...
    I love thee give...



Silly Sing, Silly Song, Two

    in collection: sillies

    Lover sweet I wish I was
    Customs officer third class,
    When you'd come to cross my border
    I'd apply the law and order
    To you, lass.

    Looking forward to the booty
    I'd apply excise and duty,
    Strict on guard and never lax
    I'd apply quintuple tax
    To your beauty.

    Hmm... you seem a bit suspicious
    Guess my day looks quite propitious,
    Smuggling is abhorrent crime
    Have to body-search this time
    Mmm... delicious.

    Yes, I'm the cashier as well
    Now prepare for paying hell,
    Let me see... a smile divine,
    Breasts... a pleasures loaded shrine,
    Lilac smell.

    Silk pretending to be skin,
    Smirks above a stubborn chin,
    Fires blue inside green eyes,
    In your mouth's silly disguise
    Mirth and sin.

    In my mouth you stick your toe?...
    Bribing officers of law
    Is forbidden... I'm awake
    Think I don't see in your wake
    Flowers grow?

    Listen, between you and me
    This report must stay PG,
    Some offences are too hot
    For the youngsters in the lot...
    Off my knee!...

    Let's just see what is your due...
    One big kiss... take twenty two...
    Fourteen poems... in your ear...
    Single answer... have no fear,
    I love you...

    Hm, what more?... a passage fee...
    Take my soul, and take my key...
    Key? For opening my chest,
    There, behind my left side breast...
    It's for free...



Daisy Sillies, One

    in collection: sillies

    Daisy, daisy,
    Wild and crazy
    Stretching lazy
    In the sun,

    You're no chilly
    Like a lily
    You're as silly
    As a bun.

    Let'em roses
    Lofty noses
    As day closes
    Sigh and sway,

    Now when time draws
    And my spark goes,
    Paint your rainbows
    In my grey.



Daisy Sillies, Two

    in collection: sillies

    Mid of meadow's winking glimmer
    Hind a spider's cobweb shimmer
    Yawns a daisy waking up
    Forest's youngest flower pup.

    Comes across a doe and wanders,
    Eyes the daisy, stops and ponders,
    Cries the daisy... Just this morn
    To the sunlight I was born...

    Comes across a wingless fairy
    Dimpled faced and sunshine merry,
    Begs the daisy... Please be sweet
    My first rainbow let me meet...

    Comes across a human fellow
    Slow of gait and manner mellow
    Plucks the daisy... loves... loves not...
    Torn and tattered... left to rot...



Daisy Sillies, Three

    in collection: sillies

    Deep asleep under the willow
    On a white and yellow pillow
    When your teeth pull at my ear
    And your skirts flutter and billow.

    With a mind confused and hollow
    I awake, still stumbling follow
    As your rolling, flailing limbs
    In the flowers ocean wallow.

    With my right I hook your middle
    And my left your buttons twiddle
    Yet before my fingers touch
    You escape and ask a riddle.

    "Lover, fore I feed you cherries
    And your hand my nipple marries
    Tell me what is gold of heart
    And a crown of white hope carries?"

    Well, you know I have the answer
    (Need a rhyme here... let's use lancer)
    Else I'd pout and break the mood
    Like a two left footed dancer.

    "You mean gold of hearted daisy
    For the fool of hearted lazy
    Asking loves me?... loves me not?...
    With a brain that's kind of hazy?"

    And the rest as they are saying
    And her debts with... hmm... she's paying
    Mine's her cherry, nipple, heart...
    You, the others, keep on baying...



Silly Red, Silly Blue

    in collection: sillies

    I didn't have a pen to write
    I popped a can of bubbling Sprite
    I asked you... lie upon the sheet...
    I poured the words around your feet,
    You rolled inside the sticky goo...
    Roses are red, violets are blue
    And I love you...

    I felt in need of lover's chat
    I picked a Pepsi can gone flat
    Advised you... let your eyelids plow...
    Then dripped a rhyme upon your brow
    With splashing droplets brownish hue...
    Roses are red, violets are blue
    And I love you...

    I needed ink upon the bed
    I dipped my toe in Ketchup red
    Implored... where is this mark from birth?...
    With grinning eyes you tore your shirt
    I scrawled around your nipples two...
    Roses are red, violets are blue
    And I love you...

    Of sudden had my brains to spill
    I used Budweiser for my quill
    Around your lips... keep back your tongue...
    You let me talk inside your lung
    And for the rest I had to queue...
    Roses are red, violets are blue
    And I love you...

    It felt so strange this joyful romp
    I tried a Honey laden stomp
    I filled my mouth... lend me your skin...
    My tip of tongue in mirthful sin
    Invading coins hidden from view...
    Roses are red, violets are blue
    And I love you...

    My lad... my body is a mess
    Your silly words my day's caress
    Paint me your words, your spill, your flood,
    Tint me your sludge, your slush, your mud,
    Remember as my kisses pour
    Roses no end, violets galore,
    I love you more...



Where The Hell?...

    Swallowing you,
    Slamming doors
    Bolts shifting inside rusted rings
    Bridges hoisted up creaking above the rage of burning waste...

    The sound of chains,
    The scream...
    Piercing in its mindless terror the walls of silence
    Boring into my mind
    Deep, deep...

    Bridges crashing down on bursting hinges
    Bolts shrieking outside rings
    Doors heavily pulling open
    Hell spitting you out...

    The blue stains of pain,
    The red scars of abuse,
    The bloated body demanding nothing but a lone corner
    To crawl and curl and forget...

    You raise a swollen face
    Your eyes asking an as yet undecided green or blue or grey question
    Your lips whiter than your teeth,
    You look at me...
    Oh, god of purgatory,
    Oh, god of heaven and its valleys,
    Where the hell...
    Where the hell did she find the power, the dare
    To crack her cheeks
    And put to shame sun and all of its wildly fluttering corona
    With the cutting tenderness of one hell defying, blinding smile?...



I Will

    A woman.
    I met her somehow.
    Our paths did not cross,
    Fate made sure we do not ever meet,
    We never hear of each other
    Yet... I met a woman. I met this woman.
    Made me start wondering about the reliability of fate's designs.
    Made me start wondering about what I thought I knew about woman.
    Made me stand back,
    Amazed, terrified, in awe
    At the quiet power of... a woman.


    Innocence stolen.

    A bud in the making, a black and white dream,
    A caged ray of sunlight at play in a stream,
    A morning, a sunrise wild happiness rife
    At search for a color to fill up her life,
    An innocent softness in love with the light...

    A man's boot of leather breaks day into night.

    Afraid... scared and lonely...no guide but her heart,
    A fragile lost puppy... the poisonous dart...
    Where, God of all heavens, did she find the skill
    To give up the screaming, get up, say I will...?

    Dreams stolen.

    The bud into flower, the dream into hope,
    The rays turning glitter down wild river's slope,
    As morning weds sunrise each new passing day
    She blows depth of color in worn shards of clay,
    A dreamlike forgiveness awaking to light...

    A man's raging bellow kill's dreamland's brave knight.

    Loud menacing shutters pour down on her mind
    As terror awakens with morrows entwined...
    Where, God of all heavens, did she find the steel
    To pick up her fragments, get up, say I will...?

    Tomorrow stolen.

    The flower has blossomed, the hope turned to song,
    A hot ball of fire is rolling along,
    The seeds she has nurtured turn day's sunrise wild
    In happiness' colors the sky dreams beguiled,
    Tomorrow's tomorrow is promised the light...

    A man's stinking fury is crushing the sight.

    A moment as ever insanity's dust
    Is pouring in gallons through crumbling mind's crust...
    Where, God of all heavens, did she find the heal
    To tear down the mountain, get up, say I will...?


    A woman.
    Stricken, beaten, punished.
    Like a prize fighter,
    Up again,
    Up again,
    Up again,
    And between the blows... finding the infinite strength to smile...

    When, God of all heavens, will you show the will
    Her mornings with rainbows and flowers to fill?




    Desert flower deep asleep
    Down your burrow's secret keep
    Hear my softly whispered thunder
    It's a song, if you should wonder,
    Laying dew upon your eyes,
    Laying smiles across your sighs,
    Breathing beats depths of your chest,
    Breathing warmth inside your breast,
    Pulling gently by your hand
    Telling you of desert's land
    Waiting deep inside its gloom
    For deliverance... your bloom.

    Nears the time of my long sleep,
    Just one petal... may I keep?...




    Darkness, deep, absolute.
    I open my eyes trying to penetrate the enveloping whispers,
    Whispers marrying night
    Marrying doubts
    A wedding with no music and no guests
    Except whirling swirling thoughts
    Dancing in a splendor of their own
    And blanketing me in deeper and deeper layers of melancholy...

    Melancholy, such a beautiful word,
    I taste it trying to get some meaning out of the letters' jumble
    Yet failing to do so.
    Does it rhyme with agony? Doesn't sound right,
    Something escapes me
    Probably intentionally so, does it have to do with the absolute darkness?
    With the whispers?
    I wonder what agony means...
    Sounds familiar, does it rhyme with melancholy?

    Do you love me? I ask her.
    Of course, she smiles and her finger paints clouds on the sand.

    Do you love me? I ask her.
    Of course, her laughter walks all the way to me and then back to her eyes
    Bouncing on to grains of sand that keep falling
    Sweeping her in their midst
    And leaving me behind with reflections of fading green.

    Do you love me? I ask her.
    Of course, as she dances from hand to hand
    While I keep gathering changing traces of bare feet on wet sand
    Competing with the rolling waves that keep wetting her toes
    Erasing the continuously evolving abstract creation
    And allowing a never recurring pattern to get born with every single sigh.

    Do you love me?
    And parting light envelopes the train of her wedding gown
    Leaving me in
    Darkness, deep, absolute.




    As the sandman weaves your dreams
    Sewing gold along the seams,
    Red paillettes and pearls white,
    Moonlight soft and sunshine bright,
    Sneaks your hand upon my chest
    Softly waking in your breast
    Wants the shade of faeries lore
    Born in magic nights of yore.

    Sneaks a smile into your sigh
    As your yonder searching eye
    Follows horses wild of mane
    Chasing zephyrs down the plain
    And one maiden wild of hair
    Rides a fire eating mare
    Into desert's scorching heat
    There a lover's lips to meet.

    Pounding breath, a waning daze
    As your passion wakes ablaze
    Trading dream's dissolving veil
    Into fire ridden gale...
    Cut my mouth your hungry bites,
    In my chest a hell ignites
    And a fury skywards soars
    As we reach blue heaven's shores.




    It's a binary world, I think
    Musing on a torn magazine corner
    Fighting hard to fit a few words on the white border
    And keep the car in the middle of the lane same time.
    Someone honks angrily,
    He is right, I pull back
    And smile apologetically
    Returning to my undecipherable scribble.

    This was planned originally to be a binary world,
    Man, woman,
    Night, day,
    Black, white...
    Then someone up there got bored with the simplicity of it
    And started adding grey levels,
    Brown, blue, green...
    What a mess...

    I overtake a car,
    He driving, she reading,
    Samson and Delilah,
    Romeo and Juliet,
    Lady and the Tramp...

    I smile,
    Pairs nailed in our subconsciousness
    Imposing their presence yet giving in to those shades of grey painting our lives,
    Italian serenade...

    Phone call
    Forcing me to lift my right eye from the piece of paper
    Thus saving me for the umpteenth time from an unpleasant meeting with a lamp post.
    Paired by human genius
    Passed on to us through generations,
    Love and hate,
    Crime and punishment,
    War and peace...

    I stop, I hesitate,
    Is it the truck to my right turning on its left blinker
    Or my mind
    In the sudden squeeze of a giant fist
    Before I dare write down...
    Pain and acceptance...

    I turn right,
    Another twenty miles to the safety of a parking place,
    Philosophy on wheels
    I smile to myself
    Though I don't feel like smiling.
    Pain and acceptance.
    Religion has its saints,
    Nation its heroes,
    Love its lovers.

    I park. Finally safe.
    Hungry for love.
    I hang back in the car before going up to the office,
    My mind playing tricks with my memory
    Changing sequences,
    Clinging to departing crumbs of fading visions
    That seconds earlier filled my field of view
    With such rich displays of dance and color.
    Finally I retain just words,
    Just two,
    Pain and acceptance...

    You rhymed... "if pain my reason swept
    Demented quiet I accept
    Just promise me, to soothe my soul
    My whole..."

    You sighed... "when pain upon me crept
    My hell with passion I accept
    Just promise me, to be my twin
    In sin..."

    You smiled... "of pain I am adept
    And riving torture I accept
    Just promise me, at end of day
    You stay..."

    Someone knocking on the window... are you ok? he asks.
    I shiver back to reality with a vague look on my face,
    Thank him with an embarrassed blush creeping into my cheeks
    And turn off the motor.
    I forgot even to turn it off... where was I visiting last minutes?...

    "Oh, woman, your dementing pain
    I wish to sweep like storming rain
    And for your shard of aching soul
    To give my whole..."

    "Oh, maiden, long your hellish pain
    A raging passion creeps insane
    I pray my heart your torment's twin
    And drink your sin..."

    "Oh, lover, torture's riving pain
    The adept lover's hungry bane
    Pour down my throat till end of day
    You see... I stay..."

    The door clicks shut. I lock it.
    I hear your rhyme,
    I hear your sigh.
    I hear your smile.
    Sorry my love,
    Told you that my memory has fallen prey to my mind's games,
    Can't remember everything, I am mixed up...
    Hear me smile?...
    Hear me smile?...
    Hear me smile?...




    You sit there.
    Pale. In pain,
    Hiding underneath the blanket,
    Flickering lights from the computer screen coloring your face's canvas
    While running letters print themselves on the white linen of your eyes.
    From time to time you smile at the mind's meaning
    And you wince at the body's pain
    Fighting hard to side with the smiles, with happiness.

    The scourge scrounging around and devouring your body,
    You will vanquish it, you know,
    Your will of life stronger than hell's demons,
    Your power of love flooding those around you,
    The one far from you,
    Your thirst for love absorbing the screen's colours,
    The screen's letters,
    The message.
    He loves you, you know.
    He loves you and no scourge, no enemy, no dark messaging angel
    Will tear away this certitude from your mind.

    Your eyes blink, your lips go through the supreme effort to smile
    And you wait
    For tomorrow's sunshine to bathe your body in its purity
    Cleanse it with innocence
    Dress it with love, love to the ends of time.

    The blanket deserts your shoulders as you fall asleep, curled,
    Warm in your infinite trust,
    And as clouds start melting away from the stars
    A rose timidly starts blossoming in soft pink petal upon your cheek.




    "Your hair has turned red," I said.
    "Of course," you said, "I've been through hell.
    It is on fire.
    "You are wrong," I said,
    "The fire is in your eyes,
    I see it."
    "You are wrong," you said,
    "The fire eats at my body."
    "You are wrong," I said,
    "The fire is in your heart.
    It consumes your passion."
    "My passion cannot be consumed, it is eternal."
    "Sorry, my mistake, should have said it differently,
    It is the passion that consumes you."

    You were quiet.
    Finally the little rebel in you decided to give in
    And not come with a counter declaration of her own.
    "You know, I know the paths of hell only too well,
    The highways, the avenues, the dark alleys,
    I've been there too often.
    "Your favorite vacation spot?"
    "I am its favorite guest." Quiet.
    "Did I tell you that once my hair was almost knee long?"
    "Fire red?"
    "Fire. I lost it in hell,
    In a past visit.
    They needed it for feeding their furnaces.
    "And you gave it for free?"
    "No, they allowed me to keep a patch of green.
    I plant there flowers,
    Sometimes kids come for a visit
    I see them smelling the flowers
    And I am happy.
    "Flowers in hell? Kids in hell?"
    "Yes, you know hell has very strong non discrimination rules,
    Everybody is welcome,
    The biggest democracy in the world.
    "And outside of it. And the warmest too."
    You giggled, snuggling closer.
    "Thank you for visiting me here," you said.
    "Not many would have dared.
    Not many would have found my street.

    I looked around, for the first time. The flame walls fluttering madly, shrieking their impotence to each other and stepping hastily back each time an obstinate daring son of flame tried to lick our green oasis' border. Spark butterflies tested from time to time their strength and flew in to die a cold melting death upon the petals of the few flowers pushing their stems between your toes.

    You closed your big toe and the one next to it,
    Picked one flower
    And brought your foot up to my chest
    Offering it to me.
    "Isn't it a pity?" I asked
    Taking the flower and tucking it behind my ear.
    "No, flowers never die here,
    Love never dies here.
    My oasis. My rules.
    " You smiled.
    "Why?" I asked, "Why do you offer it to me?"
    "Because you found me."
    "It was easy, I followed your eyes."
    "But your eyes were closed."
    "Your heart was open."
    "My heart was on fire. It still is."

    I picked up a small switchblade from my pocket, flipped it open and cut a lock of hair from behind your ear. Then split it into three strands and braided it into a thin plait which I slid into my breast pocket. You got up and kneeled on my chest. I winced...

    "Hey, you're heavy..." and I smiled. You didn't smile. Your eyes fixed mine with a questioning regard.

    "Why?" you asked.

    I looked at the switchblade in my hand.

    "I thought I might meet a dragon. You know... hell... dragons... I know it isn't much, well, it is a beginning." I smiled. You didn't smile.

    "Why?" you asked again.

    I touched my breast pocket lightly.

    "Well, I had to braid it, to ensure I don't lose even one single hair. Hell can do with a few strands less. I cannot." I smiled again. You didn't smile.

    "Why?" you insisted, not blinking even once.

    I removed you carefully from my chest before it caved in, kissed the bald spot where I cut the lock from and let your body gently to the ground. I closed the switch blade winking at you... you never know... those dragons... and slid it back into my trousers pocket. Then took the flower from behind my ear and placed it to the left of your chest. Your eyes never releasing their grip.

    "To remember the red."
    "Of the hair? Of the fire?"
    "Of the heart. Of the passion."
    "I love you," you said. You smiled. I did not smile.
    I did not answer.
    No need to say the obvious, I thought.

    You fell asleep,
    Your left hand clutching the flower to your chest,
    Your right hand clutching the index finger of my left hand.
    The leaping flames never leaving us alone for a moment
    Indignantly chattering about complaining higher up regarding this infamy
    In their kingdom's middle.
    Who cared, you had a rental contract for life.

    A fire butterfly dared its way anew from the safety of flames,
    Flying close to us,
    Inspecting, hovering above the flower on your chest, then above your lips,
    Fragile antennae vibrating in a shower of white glowing sparks,
    Thin transparent wings stretched on a silk sparkling skeleton,
    Flaring drops of a golden color flowing down from its body
    Landing on your cheeks and bringing into their pallor the warmth of rosy color
    And life.
    "Shoo away..." I whispered trying to get the stupid small beast back home
    To the safety of its hell and its fire flowers.
    It hovered a few moments further around your ears
    Probably wondering which kind of a petal this one was
    Then as if finally conceding a last conciliatory gesture
    To humanity's grievances and tribulations,
    It landed on your eyelid.

    I watched, transfixed,
    As the wings stopped, slowly floating down to the skin,
    The antennae's glow extinguished itself in a last explosion of kaleidoscopic shrapnel
    And the whole body flattened itself across the brow,
    The eyelid, the cheek,
    Leaving the colorful imprint of a penciled drawing
    Using thousands of unknown as yet color hues.
    "My love," I whispered,
    "Even in hell there is a bit of compassion."
    I wondered if the tightening of your grip on my finger meant you heard me.
    Or maybe you were busy by now chasing the butterfly
    Across the splendor of endless dream fields
    Soaked in flowing green and sparkling life.




    The pain in those eyes
    So green and so wise
    The quiet so louder than forests of cries,
    The clasp of that hand,
    The roughness of sand,
    The happiness shivers where whispers were banned.

    A promise not made,
    A question not prayed,
    Your wishes condemned through the deserts to wade,
    Yet depths aching chest
    Hind soft shield of breast
    You know, day will come I return to your nest.



Goodbyes, Two

    I never sensed it before.

    I felt sad at goodbyes. Sometimes glad.
    Sometimes depressed.
    Goodbye, as an introduction to a story
    Covering the time in between departure and return.
    We will meet again
    Or not.
    I knew it, accepted it,
    It was always fine.
    Goodbye, so what?
    Sad, glad, depressed...

    But this pain?
    Knowing that all I do is go to bed
    And the goodbye is just a one night's long sleep
    Till tomorrow we meet again?




    the last grain of sand floating lazily to its death bed,
    the plane's wheels screeching
    forcing the monster to slow down,
    my eyes closed... has it really arrived?...
    the moment?...

    flurry, movement, crowds pushing by,
    i hang back paralysed with sudden fear, apprehension
    that she may not come, that i may not be that dream she told me about
    and drain the colors of her rainbow till a simple black and white curve
    hangs limply from a green sky...

    green sky?... did i say green?... do i see color?...
    a figure advancing through the crowds,
    the world floating around her yet not touching her
    as if she was part of another dimension,
    my dimension?...
    approaching me
    picking the hands hanging powerless at my sides
    putting them around her waist
    her hands twining at my back
    bold soft feminine forms merging into manly rough angular ones
    the green sky just inches from my eyes covering the full horizon
    and as those inches squeeze into nothingness
    and as my eyes lose their way inside that vast emeralds field
    i hear the whisper dissipating all of my fears...
    "welcome home..."




    Your eyes,
    The green of paradise lost,
    God's hiding caverns storing his frustrations,
    His colors, love,
    Painful decisions trailing human deceit,
    The red of apple unbitten,
    Eve, naked,
    The innocence of love not found.

    You knew love exists
    In dreams,
    Certainly in stories many a penny,
    Maybe in others' lives
    With you as the spectator clapping hands and shedding tears
    Never part of the plot, never the actor.

    One day you blinked,
    The green spark for moments hidden from the world
    Looking somewhere, inside,
    Its beauty visible just to one,
    And when you opened them again
    You doubled up in pain, you winced,
    Didn't scream but the pain piercing your left of chest unbearable...
    And then you straightened up,
    You looked at the stain,
    And you smiled.

    Finally? Am I finally hurt?
    Is not just stories after all?
    And the pain spreads through your body, through your limbs
    And the smile follows in pain's wake
    Making sure wounds are opened,
    Raw flesh hurts,
    Spirit soars...

    Love, love unending has become your reality.




    Shall it be the purple diamond shaped in dungeons yonder sky
    Stolen with the wake of sunshine from the dragon's sleeping eye?
    All I wish is just a pebble carved upon a river's bed
    Tinted by the passing seasons with a stain of bleeding red,
          And the day you leave my garden tell me... why?...

    Shall it be the well unending wisdom rich as never such
    Stolen from the hidden valleys way beyond a mortal's touch?
    All I wish is let my fingers reap a sweat drop from your brow
    And inside its saline kingdom lock my silent wedding vow,
          In the parting soggy letter tell... how much?...

    Shall it be a flying carpet woven flowers thousands ten
    Stolen from the springtime fairy's fiercely guarded magic den?
    All I wish is one lone daisy dripping beads of morning dew
    When the petals I be counting to be ending 'loves me do',
          If you leave with dawning starlight tell me... when?...

    Shall it be an ageless story penned inside a rainbow's heart
    Stolen from a godly herald weaving dream's undying art?
    All I wish is rhyme my passion in one single word of love
    Then I'll lay my green tomorrows in your poem's tender glove,
          Never why? how much? when?... never... never part...




    The incoherence of flames
    Lifting up from the heart of burning black coal
    Invading mind's chambers
    And licking hungrily the walls of its corridors
    Inebriating, intoxicating,
    Chasing away the oxygen of reason,
    The berserk gone inferno running loose through heart's paper fields
    Till all that is left
    Is a holocaust of the soul.

    The incoherence of madness
    Seeping in through minute vibrations of skin nerve ends
    Creeping long the bloody paths carrying body's vital shipments
    Then suddenly pouncing down upon its unsuspecting prey
    Claws rending tendons of patience into writhing worms of agonizing passion
    Tearing limbs, ripping body parts,
    The tormenting embrace emblazing every single thorn sunk in demanding flesh
    Till all that is left
    Is shredded remains gasping for breath.

    The coherence of nothing
    Ascending all around as the body slowly sinks
    Depths of deserted chasms and craggy soaring peaks
    Laid bare by the passing of flames
    And flurry of madness
    As they keep rolling on with no recollection of yesterdays' turmoil,
    Conquering new forests, scorching new oceans,
    The dry winds left behind playing games of roving desolation
    Till all that is left
    Is the terrible quiet of interminable sleep.

    And love's sweet bud
    Tastes lust's hot blood
    Till loneliness sighs
    And lovers' dream dies...

    The fragility of Love,
    The sweeping gale of Lust,
    The unending desert of Loneliness,

    L... for Lovers...




    Was I alive?
    Am I alive?
    I listen to your steps
    As you pace thousands of miles away,
    Does he love me?
    Does he really love me?

    You listen to my thoughts
    As I lay down paper words thousands of miles away,
    I am alive. She loves me.
    He loves me. I am alive.

    We smile
    Never to know it was at the same instant,
    Never to know this smile's birth moment was the moment
    A bud bloomed.

    Funny, thought the scholar,
    Never seen before such green of petal this time of the year...




    Starting at the finger ends,
    Not daring touch,
    Letting that thin layer of air squirm impotently between finger tips
    And skin
    While nerve ends stretch menacing to rupture the surface
    Asking for contact yet mute in their screaming agony
    Known only to the body,
    To a mind in desperate wait...

    Running through arm's length
    Finding their way to shoulders, chest
    Feeling the end of their tormented road nearing
    As they approach that noisy shivering box all ready to absorb the pain in its thunder
    And finally letting them in
    While its melting warmth merges with the aching need
    Skipping vital moments of life
    Just to absorb single instants of love
    Finally reaching their destination.

    Our first touch,
    Fingers, skin, heart,
    Final destination reached,
    I am home.




    You know, when you decide to smile
    And I get lost inside that isle
    With love demanding to unfold
    And sunny banks of sifted gold,
    A sun forgetful to set west
    And playing hide beyond that crest...
    I crave your breast...

    You know, when you decide to laugh
    I simply lose my reason's half,
    My tingling fingers turning numb
    As drooping butterflies succumb
    To painter's brush playing its part
    When life is imitating art...
    I crave your heart...

    You know, when you decide to sigh
    And honey spills inside my eye,
    And pearls dust from mountain streams
    Define the tint of waking dreams,
    And wishes take a midday stroll
    Deep down my waiting piece of soul...
    I crave you whole...




    I looked at the spark.
    Couldn't look at the color,
    I knew the color, I knew the shape,
    I didn't know the spark, it was new.
    I blinked, trying to improve my vision,
    The spark returning stronger, insistent.
    I wiped her eyes again,
    Dabbed at the left, then at the right,
    Then again at the left,
    Somehow it didn't help.
    The spark joined by stars, then flooded by mist, then again stars...
    I got angry, impatient.
    "You promised not to cry,
    You promised sunshine,
    Now all I see is sparks and mist and stars,
    You are crying,
    You promised not to."

    She smiled, pain, terrible,
    Pulled a handkerchief from her purse and folded it four times.
    "I promised, true.
    You did not keep my promise,"
    She said,
    And started dabbing at the corners of my eyes.




    Something is wrong, terribly wrong.
    I suddenly shiver,
    I am cold, freezing,
    The quiet in the room overwhelmingly surrealistic...
    Where did my heartbeat go, where did the gasps of my breath go?
    The shape snuggling against me warm, too warm,
    Her heartbeats, her breath the only sounds in the room...
    I shiver again, frightened.
    What is the matter, love? she asks turning her back to me
    And allowing me to cup her breasts in numb fingers getting number,
    Bad dream?
    I am freezing, I hear my voice complaining for me,
    I am cold, my heartbeat is gone silent, my breath is gone,
    I am dying. Am I?
    I hear a girlish giggle and she turns around to face me,
    Her eyes still closed as if in fear that I may steal that eternal inner luster,
    Her arms encircling my body
    Yet none of her warmth seeping beyond my skin's thickness...
    Of course you are cold, my love,
    I stole your body's warmth, I stole your heart and breath,
    Now I am busy stealing your life.

    And why would you do such a terrible thing? the voice that was once mine insists,
    I thought you loved me... it whispers pleadingly.
    This time I can see the giggle, not just hear it.
    Wrong grammar there, lover,
    If you insist on an answer then I insist you talk correctly.

    For a second there I am lost then suddenly I feel like smiling,
    Maybe there is a chance after all...
    I thought you love me... my voice repeats,
    Emphasizing the correct tense of the sentence.
    Good, she says and hugs me tighter.
    A certain sensation starts registering into my skin, a certain itch,
    Do I feel numbness start fading away,
    Are these remote sounds of heartbeat
    Reverberating in my suddenly reborn faint gasps?

    I will never bear you child, she says,
    Sadness tinting her glowing smile,
    I wanted to feel how it would have been like to have it.
    I had to borrow your life and let it conquer my insides,
    I had to merge our warmth, our hearts, our breath and lives. Now I know.
    Now you can have them back.

    The sensation of warmth enveloping me further, my heart beating,
    My breath causing hair ends falling over her eyes to flutter merrily...
    And what did you feel woman, tell me? I ask,
    Anger and frustration dominating the sound of my voice
    Love dominating the hold of my arms,
    Pain dominating my mind.
    She opens her eyes, looking into mine, steadily,
    Cascading torrents
    Chasing each other like wild puppies down flowers carpeted valleys,
    Green, green paradise.
    What do you see lover? she asks.
    Green, green paradise, I answer.
    Then you know, she says.

    She pulls the arrow from my chest and plants a dagger in.
    Why did you do that? I ask.
    Because no strange hand shall ever touch your heart but mine.
    It is you who will bear me child, lover.
    Our love.




    The smell of evaporating wax,
    A fizzling spark jumping away from time to time
    Its sibilating song dying inside the thick carpet while its one last breath
    Slowly climbed long a thin string of dissipating smoke way into our nostrils.

    The taste of chilled wine, red or white? just couldn't tell
    As a gracile trickle crawled lazily down your side of chin
    After we shared the mouthful which started its journey in my mouth
    And ended in the common chamber inhabited by our tongues and teeth and kisses.

    The sound of tango then slow then tango then slow,
    The low fidelity noise poorly yet devotedly imitating a concert hall's perfection
    And insisting that as long as hand lies on hip and breast touches chest
    The only accepted imperfection would be the sound of your escaping sighs.

    The touch of gossamer velvet stretched thinly upon fingertips
    Like delicate cobweb tracing permanent fingerprint marks upon the nape of my neck
    Its breezy flutter blowing tenderly through a waking landscape of tiny goose bumps
    Deeply asleep till that time in dreamless lands of blessed oblivion.

    The sight of dimming lights, my narrowing field of vision slowly giving in
    To the conquering onslaught of an approaching glow
    Shining past the thinness of rosy eyelids barely holding in the devastating fires
    Hungrily eating away all horizons, all reasons, all reason.