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Distant One

Though you can read there is no guarantee
that you should ever seek out word from me
though I have written countless poems too
solely addressing, solely seeking you.

But if in distant reach, in other country, you
should find my words and read them through
and understand the depths in which I sought
to gather them, and unto you them brought.

And if you should feel moved, if you should know
instinctually the span of space that go
directly from my heart to yours the moment when
you read my words – you read and comprehend,

then feel my warmth in words inlaid,
the deepest depths of feelings left unsaid
laid in-between my words as codes for you
to warm yourself at when you’ve read them through.

I write to you, address you best I can,
and with no guarantee you’ll understand,
though I can’t see your face nor read your mind,
wish you can nonetheless make sense of mine.

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Flashback to Elementary School

In rainy weather I remember
how she pulled over her head
the wide hood of her black coat
to protect her straightened hair
so that she wouldn’t take
the injury of curls
undone by rain and falling
to the wind in joyous whirls –

And whatever else she said
about the curse of curly hair,
I disagreed, but silently,
since I knew she wouldn’t hear
my words, if I were to say
that she was beautiful some day

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Lullaby For a Lover

Lay down your head     –     lay down to rest
here on my chest           –     heavy as lead,
and sleep my dear, sleep quietly,
sink into dreams’ imagery

Dream peacefully          –     dream to the dawn,
and in the morn            –     eventually
when you awake, calm and refreshed,
you’ll find your head still on my chest

Let no ill thought          –     disturb your dream,
no, let the stream          –     running from my heart
refresh you while you sleep and I
attend you with my lullaby

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I Watch You Sleep

With golden strings inwoven
like tiny light-beams,
with sunshine interwoven
in your hair, you rest in dreams,
your head upon my chest
with the golden hair cloven
into two braids of mild unrest

With eyelids flickering
observing your dreams,
you lay quivering,
uneasy, so it seems,
in my adoring arms
as I keep gently whispering
your name, oh, how it warms!

With regret I await
the moment you arise
and thereby close the gate
you opened to the skies
when your head rested,
here on my chest
for an hour truly blessed

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In Your Sleep You’re Mine

When awake you’re yours
but in your sleep you’re mine,
I steal you unbeknownst to you
with my eyes’ longing shine
when looking at your face at peace
and hoping that my presence may
cause you to dream of me
because I with you stayed

In your sleep you’re mine
and I will watch until I drift away
perhaps to join you where you went,
perhaps to wander my own way –
but as long as I stay awake
I’ll stay to watch your peaceful face
and listen to your steady breath;
you’re mine until my vision fades

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Last Night’s Dream

Last night I dreamt a dream delightful,
full of you and of your charms
as I held you in my loving arms,
you, Being, so immensely beautiful

I dreamt I saw your eyes emblazed
with happiness and care
as we affection shared,
you and I both equally amazed

And I dreamt that the ominous
winds keeping us apart
would then depart
when seeing our love, impetuous

I dreamt your crystal tears
would never fall for me
again, that we
should never have to face our fears

And I dreamt that the spacious
regions of above
opened for our love
to consume and envelop us

I dreamt there was no hindrance
to our dreams,
no means
by which I could lose your presence

I dreamt of you, sweet Muse,
your voice’s echo,
your hair’s halo,
as your passion me infused

I dreamt of nought but you
and of your soft,
gentle love
which I can only dream is true

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On Last Night’s Dream

Last night’s dream
is now a fleeting thought –
it evaded you at dawn
at sun’s first beam,
and if you aren’t careful, soon it’ll turn to nought

It remains, lingering
as a shadow in your heart –
thought less than feeling,
an impression remaining
in your subconscious, which you cannot quite call forth

Last night’s dream
was a dream; no more, no less –
now stored in memory,
fragmented, but not without esteem;
for it contained the essence of your every hope and wish

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in sunlight

on a hillside in the sunlight,
heated only on one side
while the other remains cold,
you stand, covering your eyes
with your hand, watching the skies
growing paler all the while
they approach the horizon

so dark and yet so bright,
so cold and yet so warm
you are in the sheer sunlight,
seemingly your body’s torn
into two different entities –
your one-side skin is painfully white
to view with the naked eye,
the other side coated with shades of grey

in sunlight your united being
seems torn from outside, not within,
but as I hold my breath
awaiting the death-awakening split
tearing you in two,
a lonely cloud with silver lining
floats before the sun, and you
then seem united with yourself again

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In the Rain

I want to see the raindrops in your hair,
after a summer shower, warmly refreshing,
resembling the pearl necklace which you bear,
(the one he bought you),
shimmering white and fair
as beautiful as your shining eyes and ivory skin

I want to see the rain run down your face
as tiny translucent streams, clouding your beauty
so I can pause adoration, and avert my gaze
from the celestial refined beauty I see through a haze
and return to the present moment, though reluctantly

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My Hands Inwoven In Your Hair

My hand was once inwoven in your hair –
I feel it still.
My thoughts rely thereon when through the air
I sense – oh, thrill! –
a smell like your perfume – I couldn’t bear
to carry on
without my hands – my thoughts – inwoven in your hair
whenever someone
reminds me of you – and I remember the truth –
the truth of these sensations that I’ll never
get to feel again;
my hands inwoven in your hair –
as memory they must remain

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While You Outshine the Sun

Dancing careless
through the streets
in your flower dress
with music in your voice
and summer in your eyes.

Unnoticed by your light
I stand here in the shade
while you outshine the sun.

You laugh and flirt and talk
with a promise in your walk
to every heart that you have won.

You hardly notice they are won
focused as you are on you
while you outshine the sun.

Unnoticed by your light
yet drawn towards it too
I linger in your presence
as the summer wears on –

I see each bait pass by you
on and on and on again
and envy each and every one
although they are forgotten
and discarded in a moment
by your lightness.

I see you move and move and move
and never cease a second.
I’ll follow till my legs give in
although you never see me.
I’m just the shade that needs be there
to balance out the light I see.

I’m just the shade unseen by light
behind you day and night.
Mine is the unknown love you’ve won
while you outshine the sun.

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Nykteri 1.

At first it might’ve been a swell
a minor one to form, but in the vast expanse
of open ocean it could well
to such a size and shape that when advanced
to shorelines it could so amaze
and scare with all its might
that after its withdrawal, at its vapour trace
everyone who witnessed it
could but expressed delight

I say “it might” for I cannot recall
what happened when I met you long ago,
and after all this time and after all
we have been through how could I know
a thing that hasn’t been tainted
or at the least amended
by much later events we’ve shared?
Or coloured by the things I never dared
to tell you, which continued to
plague me whenever I saw you?

It has been years, it’s been eternity
for all I know, since we first met –
as children in a school class,
and when I first had set my eyes on you
when you walked through the door
I saw reflected in your face
the outline of a destiny:
To love and cherish someone
whose partner
I could never become

At first I didn’t feel the impact
but over time it grew in size
and though I summoned the utmost tact
I could barely contain it,
forbid it from making itself known
although it often did attempt to rise
within me; demanding to be shown,
to be of strength beyond belief and be
yet still of a, however fatal, beauty

Nykteri, your nickname which was all
that I could give you then,
you became my friend
but all that I today recall
with all the details it deserves
is love I never shared with you
although I all other secrets spilled –
with or against my will –
just to be seen by you

As time progressed and we grew up
love grew in size as I myself –
and yet I was too shy,
too insecure to tell

And time went by
and we went separate ways –
friendship waned with distance
but in many ways
although you were another place
and all around me everything had changed
my feelings didn’t care.

It was a pain to see you
and not being seen by you.
You did remain my love,
my pale, cold, distant celestial light,
and though I wished that I could blame it all
on you for never seeing what was there
I could not stop myself from wishing you were there,
so that I could tell you – without fear –
it all – it, everything – despite the fact that you
had already chosen another instead of me.

And though I tried there was no stopping this,
I lived my life in inward solitude and wished
for what would never happen, your return;
the thought alone was all for which I yearned.

But as is plainly known, what can’t be said
is often best with silence said –
your absence spoke as clear to me
as any words that you could then have said.

My answer to the question which I never asked
was right in front of me
in shape of what I feared I’d never get to see;
your face again in front of me,

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Disenchant Yourself

Disenchant what I have treasured,
treasured in my heart for years –
disenchant yourself and free me
from my own continuous tears

What’s the use of crying – tell me –
when you’re crying for a dream?
What’s the use – it equals lying,
loving what has never been

Disenchant this worthless idol
which I’ve kept for lack of more –
kept and locked up in my soul
rather than bar it at the door

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Sonnet to Nykteri Seen in a Dream

Behind the veil you pose so gracefully
and shoot me s slight smile, Nykteri,
your gaze brings back to me a memory
of sweet-smelling flowers in a coronet,
a tiara composed of Spring’s utmost beauty,
but I fear today the flowers will be dead –
their remains blowing scattered in the wind,
let us then hope at least they are for Heaven bound
where shine they will forever in your image, mein Kind,
Nykteri – all my hope was lost and never shall be found

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Trail of Smoke

You are a trail of smoke inside my head.
Will it condense and turn to rain
which falls to cool my smoldering heart?

You are a vision pure and innocent like death –
a secret being born out of my heart and brain,
and memories don’t live, so you never can be dead.

You are the one I seek when I feel lonely,
I smell the air for signs of she who isn’t here,
I embrace the air, hoping that it will condense.

You are a trail of smoke; innocent, frail,
my heart’s longing for what isn’t here…
A trail of smoke that can’t
and likely never shall condense.

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You’re Here

It was too late when finally I realized
that for the first time in over three years
we’d been to the same place at the same time,
but without knowing the other one was there

I saw you not, I heard you not; but you were there,
I sensed you not in the bustling crowd; but you were near,
I left without having seen the object of my dreams
and thoughts of it are almost too much for me to bear

Should I now think it comforting to know that
seeing your face would just remind me of the past
so not seeing it is better, since the past is lost?
How could I find that comforting when I myself feel lost?

Lost without you, the only thing to comfort me now
is thinking that we are still united somehow –
trapped together on this planet, breathing the same air,
you’re not as near as I would like, but at least you’re here

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Above Lightning

My aim not to be seen has been cut out for me,
as I soar past, above your home, all I can see
is dark, looming clouds stretching far and wide
towards oblivion; to the end of my sight –
occasionally lit up by bluish flares of light
as thunder has enveloped the place where you might
hide from me who hover under blue skies, free,
between the thundering menace beneath me
and the ethereal blue where no clouds,
save some feathers,
will venture to disturb the tranquil weathers –
I went here to see you without myself being seen,
but neither can see either, and it seems my aim has been
a mere illusion, worse, perhaps a dream

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I can no longer say
that you belong to me
since I set you free
and you didn’t return
but rather went away

No, it makes more sense
saying I belong to you,
it’s unmistakably true
that all of my concerns
in your direction bend

All I have relates to you,
all my dreams, my feelings,
my hopes, my despair
are, as if you were here,
bound to you through and through

No, you are not mine,
you’ve left and moved away
but even now, today,
I still belong to you,
my dreams aren’t mine –
they’re all concerned with you

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The Streetlight

You stood there, lonely shadow
cast you on the pavement,
the streetlight lit your hair on fire,
I stood in the shade, admired
how your breath escaped your lips
in clouds of damp heartbreaks

I stand under the golden light
alone after your sudden flight,
the melting snow reflects
what remains of the streetlight’s glow
after you stole the most of it
with your escape

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shock to feel – after all these years
those arms around me;
that dream, that phantom, that despair –
I had no words and couldn’t shed a tear,
I saw you and I saw you not;
I wanted to say, but could not –
I guess you think I hate you now,
and that is probably for the best;
better than having gone with the flow
and uttered that impossible vow
destroying what peace of mind I’ve left

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Nykteri 2.

I call you Nykteri
because you are by night
more than by day a sight,
a touch, intoxicating;
a whiff of your perfume,
a drink of your soft lips
and I am drunk with love
as we our cocktails sip
beneath the colourful bark of trees
endemic not to our home;
eucalyptus, cypress, tamarisk,
araucaria and yet more unknown

Nykteri, night-wine, feel the breeze
which from the ocean finds you here
and plays with your golden hair
while I, quite bothered, you, at ease
leave the bar to take a stroll
along the beach, acrpss the lava sand –
(I wish to lay you down but know I can’t) –
Nykteri – look, the cactus is in bloom;
unlike us it is here quite at home
and flourishing in heat which we
can hardly survive by day,
and therefore instead by night
venture, as now, outside
to see the barren landscape
formed long ago by volcanoes
where little grow and each plant seems a treasure;
each flower a source of endless pleasure

Nykteri – I am drunk with you,
as you say goodnight, disappear
behind your door – in there
where I can’t reach you anymore.
As I walk home in darkest night
where not a bird is heard,
with a striped cat as only company,
I feel it might be both
a blessing and a curse indeed
to love you;
nothing is ever clearly black or white
when drunk with you, Nykteri

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Dewfall has happened in my heart, night descends
warm and moist upon my soul, and therein you
lie asleep calm and peaceful.
I wish you would awake, I wish you could,
to quell the claustrophobic silence of my room,
but you are ever calm and peaceful, gentle, ever quiet,
ever asleep in my soul and never a threat to peace.

Dew has fallen and everything is calm and still
as if the cool night wind blew through my heart
where you lie asleep.
Asleep on this pulsing bed of blood
wherein you float, intoxicating me,
deafening me to the world
as if every dream I’d ever dreamed came to live
within my heart where you were laid to rest.

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A Vision of Her

I know not whether dawn or sunset shone
but such a light was in the sky;
deep turquoise in the background
and clouds of saffron and vermillion,
which I could not separate from
her hair which waved in the light breeze –
her smile made all sensations cease
and merge to one sweet unity,
the sun behind the wondrous clouds
seemed to play in her opal eyes
reflecting the spectacular skies
above her head; as beautiful was she
as only visions, not reality, can be –
and yet I knew that behind this pretense
there lurks a truth destroying my defense;
however way the matter may be turned
there’s truth behind the vision, truth
exposing what it is my heart has yearned
for since my earliest time of youth:
That beauty has its earthly competition
in the green eyes of her who in my dreams
expose herself, as she did in this vision,
to show me how love makes things seem,
beyond comprehension, divine –
that kind of beauty in her shine,
although my eyes alone can see its gleam

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What More

What more can I achieve,
or what more see –
what I have seen is the sublimity
most people won’t achieve
and cannot even bend their minds to
think of, therefore not aspire to

What more is left for me,
what more to do –
for after having been looked at by you
there’s nothing else I wish to see
and I can find no reason to go on,
the world to me is mere oblivion

What more to do, and why,
why carry on through mediocrity
when I have seen and known the beauty
emanating from your eye –
why live, when you have grasped eternity,
why drag on, when there’s nothing more to see?

That beauty, let it rule me, I
want no more achievements in life,
but lying down to end my strife;
your beauty fills my mind and eye
and all the world’s impurities
mean nothing more to me; my strife shall cease

Oh, let it, please!

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Girl By Window

No light brightens your face, alights your hair,
you stand in hiding in the shade –
I am relieved to see you there,
seeing you in the light, my vision could fade
when seeing your illuminated face –
I know your beauty, I don’t need to see
in detail what is hidden in my heart –
and I’d more often like to see,
as now, how you your beauty guard,
and as you look down sideways
(a pretended sign of modesty)
I don’t look at you but skywards
out of the window, feeling free

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I know that I must live on just
to praise how I remember you;
who else would do the same
or just remember you as I do?

I must live on, if I cease to be
no worthy praise you’d get,
so even if you won’t listen to me
I’ll have to continue the serenade,

continue, repeat and repeat myself
memorizing the features I’d forget
if only I could – long forgotten they’d be
if I paused to consider what’s best for me.

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Your Contour

Shimmering in the light that turns you black,
your contour dances in front of the door;
a throbbing pulse of movement reaches me, a sight
as unlike your appearance as the sun itself –
you’re vivified by light and in your shade,
granted enormous proportions now,
I stand incensed, appalled yet, at your life –
your contour’s dancing with the sun in front of me,
its darkness seems to come and go; to be yet not to be;
only your shadow falling on the floor seems real to me

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My Lady of Sorrows

So you are gone again – and merely for a second
brought back to me the time that’s left behind.
Why did you come to haunt me yet again;
why not elsewhere your footsteps wind?
I wish not to relive my past of pain,
but here you bring it back to me – you always do.
The saddest thing being your ignorance
of what you have for decades put me through.

And out of nowhere; there you are again!
You think yourself my friend and you embrace
this fragile piece of earthenware I am
with lightning-arms – now further scars I trace
when every place you’ve touched burst out in flames.
And yet I must keep up this worn-out sham;
this image of indifference to you –
this fake rendition that I am to you.

I want to tell you to stay off – but how?
I can’t without exposing everything.
Your touch is burned into my skin,
my blood is boiling, and I fear that now
at last my time has come – I cannot breathe.
And yet I must maintain my lie; still now!
I still show you nothing, tell you nothing.
But deep inside my heart is torn and seethe.

Keep off me – you are no longer my friend.
One can’t be friends with someone that you lie to.
Lady of Sorrows numberless through years;
that is the only title I award you.
Lady of Sorrows – go to where you came from,
that place beyond my reach where normally you hide –
you take your path and I’ll take mine, bearing inside
the secret of the pain you’ve made my home.

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Whereto Aim the Rays of Love

And whereto aim the rays of love
when the original aim is lost;

I love, and with the love I hoped
but hope is weak where there’s no trust.

Should I agree to let you go?
Should I believe you
when you say that you’ve found happiness
with someone else?
Don’t we both know that someone else
could never know you like I do?

I cannot change my aim at will;
it’s you, and it remains so still.