Archive for November, 2016

Dead thoughts

Unlike a romantic painting
Dead thoughts underneath have no lines in between
Where green decay has sunk,
No shape to control the sailors who went.

All that remains are some bones and some teeth
And the rest flows post-mortem ashore of your brain,
In miniscule quantities,
Fog-silent, fishy-disguised.

But you like to put your feet in the water
And think about beauty and poems.
How could you link your toes
With rubber blue fingers,
Eyes staring up where the water begins?

With your straw hat and waving blonde hair
Your thoughts dance to life. Come and join me, you sing.
For a moment you are the poor sailor’s wife.
For a moment your thoughts are for him.

The calmth sensed only by the ones who die

The calmth sensed only by the ones who die
Like oceans live in waves and foaming tears
The last wave lands in understanding sigh

It saw the low, now ending in a high
To close the eyes of he who drowns, who hears
The calmth sensed only by the ones who die

And us as well as craziness goes by
When we have buried kin and friends and peers
The last wave lands in understanding sigh

For it was love that made us steal, we try
To deal with sin as good as it appears
The calmth sensed only by the ones who die

Is ours, we watch the sea move on, and I
Know well that moment to be best in years
The last wave lands in understanding sigh

Our first encounter and our last goodbye
Remains in echos over misty piers
The calmth sensed only by the ones who die
The last wave lands in understanding sigh.

Fooling around

I could easily fool myself
(this matters in a case of love)
and never realise
the truth, and would not care if so.

I could easily care for a fool
(which in most love cases happens)
and never be aware
he realised my truth and would not care.

My foolish truth is easily realised,
(as my heart is most foolish of all)
And I shall always care
For my well-loved fools anywhere.

Words to think away

Words bind us with shared values:
You know what I mean, yet we have never met.

Although not everything can be said,
We can tell about the weight of light,
The sound of colours, the dance
of mountains seen from a train.

Confront us with our past in words
and we will cry again.
Give comfort using the same tools.

In grief lies the darkness that can be lifted,
Its weight can be turned into light
In words said by others,
In thinking away. I love words.


Darkness comes not unexpectedly,
The day goes grey before the lamplight shines,
But since there is some, a sparkle or moon beam
Eyes are deceived. So am I.

Senses, food for soul and mind, deeply felt trust,
Are stuff that make people the humans be,
But darkness can hurt, no sparkle nor moon beam,
Answers blurred out. Am I too?

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