Posted on

What I Am

I am a stray cat nobody wants to feed –
I am an echo in the silence you create
with all the noise you make –

I am a shadow in the darkness of the night –
I am a planet knocked off course
and hidden from the light –

I am an epiphyte high on a branch, alone –
I am disguised to look like my surroundings,
so you pass me by, unknown –

I am an eye that follows you around –
I am a presence that you barely can detect,
a movement; subtle, slight

I am a shade dissolving in your light –
I am an echo in the silence you create
with all the noise you make –

Posted on

The Arrival of Spring

Spring arrived
or so I decided
today.

The dark fog
hovering in my head
I willed away.

At least for now
the sun shines
and the air is clear –

the cold awakens thoughts
and silences
the nightmares –

The snow of yesterday
already melted,
disappeared

it took with it all traces
of our movements there –

the sludge seeps through my shoes,
no longer waterproof.
It’s good,
it helps me stay awake –

I hung away my winter coat
this morning
since I choose
not to allow the winter to go on –

and if the winter disagrees
so be it –
I’d rather catch a cold
than stay inside

My feet are freezing
but it helps me breathe –
it helps maintaining focus,
not to feel

and I will walk today
and stay outside
and try to think

and I won’t sleep until
the thinking
has been done

Spring arrived today
because I need it now –
I cannot wait two weeks
for clarity of mind.

I’ll air out my brain
and will the darkness away
and see what I can find –

perhaps some energy
that I thought lost –

perhaps a way to will away
the nightmares of the past –

perhaps a flower sprouting
in a pool of half-thawed
ice-encrusted mud –

perhaps to catch a cold –
that would be something new to think about –
perhaps I could –

perhaps a beam of sun
that cannot yet be felt –

perhaps a stray thought
that could help me write a poem
again –

perhaps some lungfuls of the air
might help me sleep
a healthy sleep
with no nightmares –

My feet have led me
out into the park
where they sink
into the thawing soil –

the earth seemingly knows
that I need to feel grounded –

With feet like icicles
I proceed
ahead –

the Spring of my making,
right here and now,
a stuttering breath –

an interlude between darkness
and darkness –
light, cold and wet –

alive –

Posted on

Thoughts. Slipping.

Early.
Spring.
Fog.
Walking.
Sad.
Tired.
Drops.
Dripping.
Cold.
Thinking.
’bout what?
No knowing.

Tired.
Foggy.
Silhouettes.
Fading.
Distant.
Laughter.
What for?
No knowing.

Isolation.
Distant.
Yearning.
Mind.
Working.
Tired.
Still.
Thinking.
Changing.
Life.
Weather.
Season.
Planning.
What for?
No knowing.

Too early.
Thoughts.
Slipping.

Posted on

New Poem: “Present Past”

This new poem is contemplating the history of humanity and how we came to be – and for that reason it has been excluded from my up-coming poetry collection “Light Requires Darkness” as it simply didn’t align with the rest of the content. It is way too philosophical and not nearly personal enough, one might say.

However, despite that, I’d hate letting it go to waste, as I really wrung my brain attempting to write it in the first place. So, here you have it (and the collection will start to follow one poem at a time in the near future).

Continue reading New Poem: “Present Past”

Posted on

I Am So Glad That I Can’t See The Future

I’m so glad that I can’t see the future.
Why?
Because it would only cause me to
second-guess myself
and the decisions I am struggling to make right now.

Besides, I probably wouldn’t even believe
what I were to see –
if I’d had a vision of where I am now
five years ago
I’d thought someone had spiked my drink.

And who’s to say that the future
if I were to see
wouldn’t become something else entirely
because I were to have seen it?
Considering how nebulous a concept
even the present is
I consider that a highly likely scenario.

Posted on

I Wonder

I wonder if I am
the only thinking person in the world –
or if perhaps
the world itself consists of nothing but a thought –
I wonder if
these people passing me with endless words
are capable of thoughts
that aren’t stray or passing –
I wonder if the act of talking
doesn’t dim the mind eventually,
if all the noise obstructs the thoughts
that might expand one’s understanding of the world –
I wonder if
other people were to remain quiet
how much would they get to think?
How likely is it that they would
begin to write?

Posted on

Dust

It gathers on my drying lips –
the dust of our lives.
The dust of repetition, lives
of dust that we must live,
and dust-related lies as well
that turn to stories which we tell
and name as “memories”

Lives of dust – they dry us out,
they suck us dry until we die.
And all the dust, the day we die,
turns out to be what’s left behind –
an endless cycle of dust-lives
where only dust itself can thrive –
what is not worthy to be “lost”?

Posted on

Delta

If I were a river
flowing through the land
my thoughts would be the delta
for they get out of hand
in their pursuit of oneness
with oceans of wisdom
which isn’t mine but others’ –
most of whom long gone

But could I live among them,
these great rivers from the past,
I’d love the chance to ask them
if their deltas too were vast,
growing out in all directions
full of questions, full of wonder,
and if they, like me, sometimes,
couldn’t stop their urge to wander

And if they, as I, are human
the answer should be clear:
This way we are created.
Hold thoughts and feelings dear
for they are all we truly own
and we can’t stop them anyway,
just like we can’t forbid the river
running downwards to the bay

Posted on

Happiness

The happiness we find along the way
we’ll lose someday
but the happiness we find within ourselves
will never stray;
it stays to warm our hearts and guide us
right on till the end –
do not believe in buying joys; what warmth they bring will soon be spent –
no, you must find within yourself
the source you have which never wanes,
for that is all you’ll have to guide you
through your sorrows and your pains