Archive for January, 2011





Revolt everywhere

In our hemisphere

The people are desperately mad

But who in the end

Will be foe, will be friend

Will be beaten or terribly sad


So many will die

So many will cry

As the people take over the land

Shoulder to shoulder

As they stand hand in hand

When the sun sets and its getting colder

Their goal is their freedom their goal is their right

And to get what they need, they do have to fight

In one night they will become some years older






A nice Winters day



At our feet cried the foaming North Sea

A happy dog ran in the distance

A seagull above us stayed with us for hours,

Shells in the sand

With unspoken colours


Sand blowing for as far we could see

Your hand in my hand

You and me

And the sea




Your last journey




the last time we  met ,  you were already absent

your eyes seemed  not to be there anymore

and whatever we said,  is already forgotten

the train was all steamed up and ready to go

the man with no face blew his definite whistle,

no sound is so rotten, no image so cruel

the rain joined the absolute grey of the mourning

and the cold wind that blew

on that last Winters day

took your last breath  away

and it silenced your heart

nothing so sad than watching this train slowly start

the last time we met , you were already dying, dear friend,

to have known you and seen you before your last journey

to have known you at all, till the end,  I’m glad




entry for jinglepoetrypotluck

The road ahead



You shook my hand, a hastely  embrace and then ‘t was real

You went away  from me to think how  you would feel

My cruel enemy became the scenic road ahead

With every step you took from me,  I felt a bit more dead


A shiver in the woodlands, a breeze of winter air

I looked, the road ahead of me was empty and still there

But you were gone,  you were already out of sight

The shortest day  turned sneaky into the longest night


The road that lay ahead had now become your past

You had your precious freedom given then at last

I did hate that road for months and every mile it’s long

Till the day that you came back to me and where you do belong


The road ahead can’t  always be a highway

The years we lived our lifes  in drama are now gone

I hope the road will just be long and peacefull

And that I’ll have you all the time along


We might at times be challenged by  a sidetrack

Detours,  some sad old bridges to be crossed

But everytime we shall  find the road  back

On  this  journey none of us gets lost.


The path will climb and lead us up the mountain

So we can see what lays ahead of us

We won’t  as much look  back over our shoulders

To places were we came from,  or to the past that was.




This one is an entry for Jingles Potluck  (And I stuck with the theme!)

Heaven for life



the night that we spent in the white

squeeking bed

the  matrass too thin and the pillow

leaking hundreds of  feathers

that night turned into morning


when there was light

you opened the window


as Montmartre awoke

entering the small room

sounds of cars  and  curses in French


someone in room number seven

was laughing out loud

as the feathers went snowing

down into the wet street

from our heavenly cloud


you stepped back in bed

in your eyes, there it was

in your whisper it went

in your arms it remained

in the feathers flying around us

we found it again

and again


in lust


the sunlight that shone on your skin

was our heaven

like the darkness  had been  our heaven that night

and your moves were the waves

and the tide of our ocean

the sea in our paradise

was salted with love


the time that we spent in the white

squeeking bed

in Montmartre

Rue Briquet

room number five

was our time in heaven for life




entry for Jingle’s Thursday rally

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