absence coupled
with silence
makes this woman's
imagination
run wild

Red are the violent floods of passion and rage
sometimes love
sometimes national pride
and ancestry
in my blood
in our flag
and my dreams at night.

Red is fire
and ***
Red is anger and lust
desire

Red is me
I am
The Red Dragon

The door
the door had always been locked
the door had always been locked and no key
they said
the door had always lacked a key

the sounds
the sounds came from the door
the sounds came from behind the locked door
I could tell
there was something behind that door

a voice
a voice kept calling
a voice kept calling pleading and calling
for  me
a voice kept calling for me to come downstairs

Behind me in line
this morning
at the local store
was a man
with a flower

I only noticed him
as I packed my groceries
but he was standing
right behind me
with his flower

He looked 60-something
and happy
maybe recently retired
and he was buying a flower
a beautiful potted lily

Just that
wrapped in sensible plastic
and he was smiling
made me smile, too

I need to ground myself
touch and feel the grass
smell the roses
for they are there

I need to ground myself
stop chasing that high, that rush
and let go
for it is time

I need to ground myself
start breathing the analogous real
and **** my avatar
before she kills me

I would fly
five thousand miles
as a butterfly
and sit on you window sill
tired but gracious
and completely still

I would sit
outside your window
looking in
and you would observe me
colourful and inviting
but too fragile to take in

I would stick
to the glass membrane
between us
and I would slowly burn
hypnotisingly tragic
but inevitably true

You bind me
You tie me in a dream
You find me
You seek me out in the crowd and
Blind me
You fixate me
You put a blindfold on me and
Lead me astray
You tease me
You pass me pleasures and
Take them away
You observe me
You watch me wreathe and yearn
You create me
You might even break me and
Pick me right up
You make me
You deal the cards so I can play
with you

I'm not writing
Poetry
I'm having ***
Same thing
Actually

sometimes words
leave the world
breathless
uncertain
until their return

taking his hands
putting away the knife
she saved him

poetry became
reality
words literally
smashed her
and she
transformed

Rain
Pouring
From ripped
Clouds in the sky
Darkened days of March
It rains
Not

Drip
drip
droplets

Of a sweet nourishing drizzle

Not
Sad lamenting rain
Like tears f
                    a
                       l
                         l
                           i
                            n
                             g
On an empty world

This rain is
Washing rinsing cleansing
Flooding                                        eroding                            destroying
Opening

lubricating           exploring                               flowing
                                                  Exploding

Torrent of lust

...and darkness crept in
through the cracks
of a fake smile hiding
the real
painful enlightenment
that truly blocked
the sun

I took a trip today
let myself go
on a quiet rush
unnoticed
and in plain sight
I let myself go

I took a trip today
let my blood go
on a mad rush
unwarranted
but deliberate
I let my blood rush

I
I want to sleep
forever
and dream
of things
I do not dare to
make real

II
I want to write
those dreams
and capture
each fantasy
like frames
of a disturbed mind

III
I want to capture
your thoughts
and manipulate
your dreams
to make you write
forever
in my name

I met a man one day
in a park
where we both watched the world
go by
as we sat on the bench
with dreamy eyes

He was telling stories
not just to me
but to the air
to the whole world present
that day in the park
and I stayed to listen

On that last day
Before everyone else
He came to her
In secret
And finished
What they had begun
Earlier
In silence

Dried youth
Peels off
My face

Like paper
Memories
Of touch
Of years
And beauty
Past

My writings are quite versatile
I don't settle for one single style
Sometimes rhymes come rushing to mind
sometimes I cannot even find
a single one

I may write haiku
compelling simplicity
in seventeen beats

In all I write
and everything I am
there is dedication
and genuine love
of language
and what can be said
when rules are bended
but never broken

Therapy

She had been there before
Tried to reach him
Tried to knock
Be polite
No one answered
It didn't seem urgent

She knocked again
Louder
She had no key
And it was urgent
She had to get inside
To reach him

She bruised badly
But the door finally caved
To victory!
And she called him
But all was silent
Contradictory

She looked around
At regret
Countless sacrifices
Mindless mutilations
Upon a false altar
Rejected by God

He was nowhere
Only an echo
In the horrid remnants
Of his experiment
With love
She had to get out

I want to tan
I want to sit in the hot mid day sun
and install a sunbed
to add that extra crisp
to my birth marks
when I fry

I want to pop pills
I want to do hallucinative drugs
like mushrooms or acid
and gamble with my mental health
because I can
it is mine to waste

I want to smoke
I want to inhale the perfume
of cancer
and begin self-destruction
my own revolution
in small steps

We should have said something
We should have done something
Believed in something
We should have cried out
And faced our fears

But we said nothing
We did nothing
We didn't believe
In anything
Money couldn't buy

So we sold it all for money
Sold our souls
We pawned our treasures
And took the money they offered
To keep us quiet

We spent it all
We had one hell of a party
But hangovers come with longing
For what we used to have

And now it's too late
Somebody claimed our goods
Before we could buy them back

We no longer have a common soul
Nothing will keep us together
So we scatter
We wander without direction
Without a purpose

Or we frighten
Whenever we see belief
We scare at the sight of others
Who carry their cultures with pride

We should have said something
We should have done something
We should have at least believed
In something

...

for every message
unreplied
another message
sends itself
to enquire

when skill
and agenda
are combined
with sense
of narrative

You insist on not looking right at us
When we stand outside the store
Cross the street as if we are dangerous
We are ghosts sleeping at your door

In this country, they say, we are free
From birth, the system cares
We can be what we want to be
Just as long as we climb the stairs

But some of us didn't climb
And our talents were wasted at school
Maybe sometime you spared us a dime
Because showing off excess is "cool"

Since we do not exist in your mind
You have probably never thought
Of these ghosts and the tragedies behind
You just focus on the things you bought

In the basement
In his secret room
He breeds
Dragons

The ignorant nightingale
sings happily
to welcome spring
in Suburbia

We smoke happiness
they say
we are happy
and we smoke more
than others
it seems
we die a different kind
of happy
this way

I never could do anything
Right
Although I was good
I was
always one step
Away from perfection
Always a pound too heavy
Or a pimple to many
From beauty
In my mum’s eyes

And now I won’t
try
Because I can
Choose not to
Try to live up to
My mum’s sense
Of perfection
And I do
I actually feel
Rather perfect
As I am

Momentarily we met
Words touched
On a backlit page
So briefly
We needed to flee
For time
Earth's revolution
Parted us each day
So, when you slept
I longed
For your words
Each day
And I shivered
In the coolness
Of your structures
You mesmerised me
Bound me to the letters
We wrote
In collaboration
On unreal paper
In the hours
We stole
I breathed this
For a moment
Pretending

I want to capture
your thoughts
and manipulate
your dreams
to make you write
forever
in my name

Awakened by colour
Doused in light
And fantastic sensations
Of dreams
We escaped the night
Through shafts
Made by fluorescent stars
And to the sound
Of a majestic drum
Dictating dance

We sat on bubbles
And rode rainbow tigers
Holding each other’s hands
Linking fates
With cobweb chains
Dotted
With purple diamonds
We set the web on fire

Some words
like music
allow us
to touch
and caress
each other's
souls

some words
in rhythmic flows
with rhymes
like brainwaves
soothing the soul
allow us
to enter each other
in a communal state
of euphoria

Some words
just connect
perfectly
and form
not just some
but all things
anew

Amidst the noise
I know
I must find you, Linus
if you are lost
I must go
into your darkness, Linus
seek the flow
amidst the noise
I must bring you back

please delete me
if you leave
please delete all
trace

The pale sunlight shone
Like ladders down the trees
The beasts of the night had gone

replaced by the humming of bees

Moþor hogaþ
Þæt þu
Þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Oferfarene

Her path was well prepared
She knew where she wanted to go

Not knowing though if she dared

Her paces had started to slow

Moþor hogaþ
Þæt þu
Þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Oferfarene

The cracking sound of a branch

Made her startle and give up a cry

Continued as if in a trance
But a tear had appeared in her eye

Moþor hogaþ
Þæt þu
Þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Oferfarene

Such forceful gravitational pull

That place in the forest presented

Even though her life was full
That power was unprecedented

Moþor hogaþ
Þæt þu
Þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Oferfarene

It grabbed her without a warning

Twisted and bent her thought

Midnight replaced the bright morning
Her captor she never fought

Moþor hogaþ
Þæt þu
Þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Oferfarene

Though strange and slightly deform
His presence itself was enough

His touch was a violent storm

Soon her old self she would slough

Moþor hogaþ
Þæt þu
Þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Oferfarene

Totally transformed she was

When they found her the coming day
Her hands had turned into claws

And her soul had been taken away

Moþor bewépeþ
þu þæs wuduwealdes cræft
Underhingest

Inevitably
We collided
Like particles
Creating matter
Out of light
And miniscule black holes
In our conscience
Into which
We were pulled
And thus split
Once again
In darkness

I
despite their numbers
she never learned
her craft
from
them

II
it was poetry
that started it
the revolution
in her

III
poetry became
reality
words literally
smashed her
and she
transformed

Entering your room
I would let you rob me
of all my senses
one at a time
until completely sedated
and oblivious

Entering your darkness
I would let you steal my sight
and listen closely
for your breath
and the uneven rhythm
of stampeeding hearts

Entering your silence
I would let you remove every sound
so I could taste your words
on dry lips
like parchment
with sacred chants and poetry

Entering your mouth through words
I would let you sedate my tongue
so I would have to smell your presence
I would inhale you
and touch the very essence
of you

Entering your mental place
I would let you take the last of my senses
no longer needing the physical touch
to feel you
or to feel
anything

When entering your room
I would give up all senses
to completely forget
and to become one
in eternity

I dreamt of Columbia
of a city in the clouds
and my hands on fire
wielding powers
unimaginable

I dreamt of beauty
floating
connecting
creating pathways
for narrative

Today
I have spent my whole day
dreaming
of going back

despite their numbers
she never learned
her craft
from
them

a proper heretic
she tried to save the unworthy
believed they had potential
and she even healed her opponents

she took disciples
who would gladly spread her words
before her allies
burned her at the stakes

but then I dreamed
that I would
self destruct
too

But in the dark there were letters
like keys
to boxes of treasured light
that did not sting
or burn out
like the sun

Laughing out loud
they don't know what they've done
with their faces in the sky
I want to bring them down
and punch them
to kingdom come

Bleeding out loud
My heart is writing their names
in runes across my world
I want to tear at their souls
and pull them
down to my hell

Screaming out loud
My inner beast is readying for attack
on those people who mocked it
I want to unleash it on them
and teach them
what it is like to hurt

along those lines
time has traveled
and marked its territory

along those lines
a story unfolds
and seeks to capture the reader

along those lines
is treasure, though hidden
and kept for the worthy to find

along those lines
was beauty
now buried underneath the furrows

For a while
we shared a dream
of buttons, fabrics
elongated figures
frozen on platforms
we saw the inside
of memories subjective
overlocked and sewn
into costumes and masks
behind the screen conveyed
in experimental dance
we watched the shapes move
for a while
communicating
feeling the motions deep
underneath our skin
like whispers
unable to touch
for real
there were sample displays
to satisfy this need
safely
on our way out

the irony
in hell being hot
and churches
always cold

Carelessly
A wet Icarus
seeks
her frozen sun
and sinks