Archive for May 17, 2014

A song about life

More and more curtains were closed then,
doors seemed to jam and houses burnt down.
This was the town my life used to be:
weeds taking over the streets and the walls.

I lived in a ruin, caused by habits I had.
My view blurred by spiders, that were broken glass.
I watched others clean up but give up as well.
We all lived in hell behind curtains, withdrawn.

So I moved to a life that was better for me,
the weeds here seem flowers of beauty and grace.
I feel quite relieved I have left the old place
and I open the curtains. As now I am free.

The poetry of birds

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The birds are waiting for something to disturb them
and I oblige, I walk too close.
They fly up in beautiful disorder,
a poem each, and I watch the whole thing
until they land, united and silent,
watching me having hiccups, watching me
walking home slightly limping.

They won’t feel the way I feel for them I think,
but who knows what a bird considers to be poetry.

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