Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Aug 2015 · 423
LOVE
born from the brilliant blue
   of northern skies
it found a way
   through shiny eyes
straight to my heart

an instant passion grew
unfolded into years
   of anxious virtual meetings
times spent in harmony
as well as strife, support, and care

days of wild ecstasy
   followed despair and alienation
closeness and distance
   took their turns
and more than once
what was to be the final cut
grew back to bloom again

over the years
love has grown more sedate
but not less tense
   at times perhaps more painful

but still as true
as on that day
when in the sun of northern skies
it found its way
   through brilliant eyes
straight to my heart

          * *
Aug 2015 · 665
stealing time
to spend
the whole summer
with you
feels   unexpectedly
strange

leaving behind most
of my normal life
I have become
a thief

stealing precious time
with the one
I love

* *
Aug 2015 · 513
synaptomachia *)
my thoughts
   go wild
synapses flash
   in syncopated fright

left brain
   against the right

powers of reasons
battling fears
   unleashed
   from primal memories released
   by an unwatchful intellect
   relinquishing control
   in tired slippage
   at the end of day

I NEED YOU
*) synapses = nerve cells in our brain; machia = war, battle.
Aug 2015 · 444
back
back in an other world
   that feels unreal

with people whose familiar voices
   sound strange and thin
   as from behind thick glass

moving in rooms
   that do not promise
   your return

walking in streets
   that fail
   to echo your steps

I dream of you

       * *
Jul 2015 · 834
F O G &)
O fog,
shrouding the busy highways
   softly
muting their resonant roar
   to distant growls

Unfurl your smooth fury,
crumple these cars,
shatter their frames across
   and beyond their concrete tracks
   that separate forests and hills
   and thicken the air
   with acrid smells
   from exhausted horsepowers.

Embrace them,
   O fog,
and guide their screeching tires
   over the embankment

roaring hearses
unreigned
by your moist arms

                           * * *

     &) Discovered recently among H. D.´s unpublished papers at Yale University Library, malevolent scholars take this poem as proof for the poet´s befogged imagination during some of her post-imagist periods. More englightened critics, though, point to the stunning topicality of H. D.´s mythopoetic mind in its accurate presentation of mankind´s archetypal struggle against nature. There is as yet insufficient biographical evidence that the mature H. D. possibly had a short but intensive attachment to the infant Ralph Nader, who later became head of the U. S. Environmental Protection Agency. – For serious information on the poet, see  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H.D.
This is H. D.’s 1915 poem that inspired my little satire:

Oread

Whirl up, sea -
whirl your pointed pines,
splash your great pines
on our rocks,
hurl your green over us,
cover us with your pools of fir.

* * *
Jul 2015 · 646
Words?@?!&!@#?!!
how difficult it is
   in a particular moment
to find the words
   that can articulate
   the general in the specific
and vice versa

when sensibilities are tense
words easily can be received
quite differently
from what they actually
were meant to say

   hearts can be shaken
   feelings hurt

it may require weeks
to heal the wounds
a turn of phrase has cut

   sometimes unknown
   by s/he who spoke

and then
   if deeds are not available
more words are needed
   to undo the harm
   old ones have wreaked

explain
   define
      and modify

to keep the dialogue alive
that circumscribes
   forever undetermined & opaque
what is in us
and needs to be

said  

           * *
Jun 2015 · 1.2k
new orleans
the charm of French Colonial style
   with Cajun cooking promised -"genuine!" -
   at every second door
jazz bands at every other

the flair of well-groomed wealth and savoir vivre
   exuding from St. Charles´ porticos,
   the restaurants on Calle du Roi,
the campuses of Tulane, UNO, and Loyola

the grandeur of the superdome
the open space of Audubon and City Park
   oakes draped with Spanish Moss
alive with jogging, skating, biking, walking health
   between the nights -

all this makes you almost forget
the city project housings
slumming beneath the highrise business shadows
   crime ridden,
floating on neverending waves of dime-a-dozen tunes
from hi-fi stereos of cruising cars

the grand lake spoiled for generations
with the big city's waste,
the 'father of rivers' dwarfed beyond repair
by wharfs and cranes and fortified embankments
that line his banks as far as you can see
   and far beyond

a shotgun wedding of the rich and poor,
   the black and white,
   torn by the struggle to ascend
   from shotgun to colonial
to the soft sound of dixie

              * *
Written 20 years before Katrina ...

In N.O., a "shotgun" is a house thats has all rooms in one line - so you could shoot through all with one shot.
Jun 2015 · 422
this new world
treading carefully
uncertain of whether
   the unfamiliar ground would bear
   its new burden
the first steps
soon turned
into a dance & tumble
   of happiness & love
   & letting go
celebrating the wonder
   of a newfound world

further explorations
brought some tough encounters
   with the Other
after a while     though
it could not be denied
that this was more
than just a fantasy
   or momentary wish fulfilment

it was real

ever since
the joy of coming home
has mingled with
   the awe of new discoveries
and the pure happiness
of feeling
this new world
expand into the future
of our lives

* *
Jun 2015 · 923
kissing
to give
while taking in

to feel
your life in mine

to rise
with you
on growing waves

to be aware
   in almost desperate desire
of nothing

but you

         * *
Jun 2015 · 574
not easy
how hard
   under earphones
   oozing Viennese waltzes
to accept
   your absence

suspended
   in blinding sunlight
some 37,000 feet
above the Atlantic

          * *
Jun 2015 · 1.2k
morning
out of a dreamless sleep
my wristwatch's chirping electronic beep
   brings me back slowly to the world

not without doubts of some primeval kind

I try to cautiously adjust my mind
and turn
   with sudden fear and apprehension
and find
   the world is still alright
and you are here

         * *
Jun 2015 · 590
monsters
monsters come in many shapes

some are cuddly
some truly terrible
   bad-blooded beasts
   and look it
others hide their monstrosity
   behind a cordial facade

the most dangerous kind
that makes you like them
only to discover
   at some crucial point in time
how monstrous they really are
how in cold blood
they do their monstrous deeds

and you forget
that monstrosity
   like madness
may be a different kind
of communication

             * *
May 2015 · 596
our world
waking slowly to the singing of birds
after a hard day
      and a late night
finally granted deep sleep
     dreamless in memory
my lazy soul is quite happy
with being
   nowhere in particular
for a while

white walls enhance
   bright spots of sunlight
finding their way
   through time-worn blinds
from the radio alarm
   human voices send sounds
   as comforting and meaningless
   as the song of birds

it takes some time to re-establish
   a basic sense of time and place
moving through by now familiar spaces
my eyes record the necessary data
my hands prepare breakfast
my feet take me to the table
my senses register the sight and taste
   of coffee and ham and bread
and the luscious
   deep red
   strawberries I bought yesterday

when I kiss you good morning
   on the telephone
hear your voice
and wish you all the best for a day
   of enervating committee meetings
I cannot tell you of my joy
of waking to our world
that holds
    the sun    
    the birdsong
    the luscious ripe fruit

    us

            * *
May 2015 · 371
birds
waking up to birdsong
   is lovely
but not always desired

yet our feathered friends
don’t care whether we
   suffer from last night’s fun&games
   or lay awake with troubles on our minds
        or babies crying

they chirp their heart out
   at the crack of dawn
to greet the still grey silhouette
   of the day
   soon to be cast in  colorful relief
when light comes back again
   and darkness cedes

they make us open our eyes
revealing to our sleepy gaze
      half-hidden still
      under heavy lids  
   the beauty of the earth
   an awesome universe
and make us vaguely wonder
   about the mysteries of our lives

                     * *
May 2015 · 1.4k
usa today (critical)
two hundred years ago
   or so
this title might have read
"America", etc.,

according to the myth
that then was strong
and still exotic
   and promising to aliens
with no experience

today, after Wounded Knee, the Trail of Tears,
the Civil War, the Restoration, all the lynchings,
after Vietnam, Grenada, Panama, Nicaragua,
the Gulf, Iraq, Afghanistan,Lybia, Syria & cetera,
Ferguson, Baltimore, & cetera,
"America" has disappeared

it has, in fact, become quite evident
that to subsume the continent
   on the far side
       of the Atlantic or Pacific
   with this name
will do no more

   in truth, it rarely ever did

the mythic notion
   of a just and free society
was definitely buried at My Lai,
Panama City, on the desert plains
of Kurdistan, the Baghdad prisons,
    and Guantanamo
by racist violence & arrogance
   and pitiful ideas of white supremacy

   the usa today lies bare
   of the old promise of 'America'

street people, rampant fundamentalists,
drugs, and low employment rates,
in a society that longs
   despite its cherished myth
   of tough but honest competition
for holy war in order to rebuild with profit
   what it has destroyed with arms

that, to all evidence, cares not
a penny's worth for
   the unbuildable
   which never shows in the domestic census
or for the lives of others but their own brave boys
   preferably white
who have in recent years
      though with increasing discomfort
upon appointment by their country's presidents
achieved the dreary fame
   of bombing back into the stone age
distant lands that had
    just barely begun
to make it out from there

           * *
May 2015 · 2.7k
living
I sit
   all by myself
   again
and look out
   down upon the streets
cigarette in hand
a glass of wine upon the table
love's sweet exhaustion lingering in my bones
   and smell upon my skin
feeling so young and yet somehow so old

A late night bus drones by
and takes strange people
   to their desired stops
in a city
where I know only few
that could say
  yes  
  it's him

a woman with unsteady midnight gait
secretly walks her dog
into the public park
   both little more than blurs
   of bluish white and brown
   in the half-shadow
   of forbidden bushes

a couple leans entwined
   forever in a parting kiss
   upon the doorstep
unmindful of the plane
   that comes in low and loud
   before the landing

why is it that these moments
   seem eternal and yet
I sense the rush of time go fast
   and pass me by
   and her
   who sleeps next door

and leave us lost among our memories
of what was lovely
   and so beautiful
   before

          * *
May 2015 · 409
hell
you have the feeling
days go by
   in a sequence of unnerving sameness
punctuated only by familiar rituals
   without alternation

a sluggish stream of time
enveloping
   a history
  of not really noteworthy past events
and similar future ones

everything stays the same
   nothing changes

eternal boredom

this is hell

         * *
May 2015 · 4.0k
birthday child
a grandchild
   for her 9th birthday
very happy
    to be away from her older
   as well as her younger sister
  for a while
spent a  long weekend
with her grands

   they picked her up
   schoolbag and bathing suit
   and guitar & everything else

she had already mentioned
   that French Toast for breakfast
would be REALLY nice
and that’s what she got
together with chocolate milk
   1 minute in the microwave,
   according to her wish
patiently reading her book
while the oldies got their act together
   in their slow morning routine

they all went birthday shopping
   & out for lunch
she read her book again while the oldies
    were snoring their nap
& then they all had great fun
    swimming and horsing around in the public pool

watching some TV  
   & improving her ping-pong game
happy & tired
after dinner some goodnight reading
doughnuts and hot chocolate for breakfast
next morning
   and then
    with grandma’s help
printing out a card for Mom on Mother’s day
AND baking real  brownies as a gift….

a happy & proud 9-year old
   was delivered to her parents
& presented her mother with the card
   & the brownies & the new dress
   & the homework all done

somehow
the guitar practice had gotten lost

yet she was the envy of her siblings
for the day

           * *
May 2015 · 936
Cormons - Monte Quarin
a crumbling asphalt road
   is the only way up
winding amid wild slopes
young brush  and vinyards
heavy with grapes

in the distance
we see the evening sun
   catch bare white mountain peaks

   on the hills before them
   glitter little towns and villages

the air is mild
chestnut trees
   keep dropping their fruit

the farmer's restaurant
   announced downhill
is closed

so is the church

a German shepherd dog
   silently
lies watch over the winery
   behind a cast-iron gate

the castello
turns out to be
   a not very impressive ruin

advertisement and reality
seem to have grown
far
     apart

what makes me write
is the quiet of the hills
   through which we walk
the sight of the full moon
   we enjoy
   with my hands
     cupped over your *******

our togetherness

          * *
Cormons -another lovely old place in northern Italy - northlery betwwen Venice and Trieste - you may like to visit... good food, good wine, lots of history in the town and around,..
May 2015 · 570
birthday
the decision
to celebrate my birthday
with you

a dinér a deux
with good cabernet

food for thoughts

one step
on the way to you
   and to myself

after long years
of almost obsessively
taking care
   of the world

       * *
colorful paint
on a blue canvas

    runs
    down
    in
   strings

crossing borders
   & languages
flowing into hearts
   & minds

   slowly
      at ease

the bottom end
   of the canvas
   is not
   the end
of the message
          *
          *
          
Inspired by a computer graphic of Maria Luisa Grimani
May 2015 · 400
Spilimbergo
in september
the shadow of the arcades
   is almost too cool

on the plaza
before the Romanesque church
   children play soccer

their shouts
   pierce
the quietness

that radiates from the castle
   to the church
   and into the old town
   envelops the few
   customers of the osteria
   makes me want to write
   about us
   and the love in your eyes
over red wine & ham
   & white bread
under vaulting walls

* *
Spilimbergo is yet another old quaint little town in northern Italy you might enjoy visiting when traveling in that corner of the wor(l)d....
May 2015 · 932
Cividale
few tourists
on this september afternoon

the sun warms
   without sound

the langobard museum
    is closed

next to it
a noisy little waterfall
   flows undisturbed

a boy
keeps flipping flat pebbles
   across the quiet water
   down from the fall

for a few hours
   the past  
   remains victorious
in the clash of centuries

* *
Cividale is another lovely old town in the northeast of Italy. See
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cividale_del_Friuli
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lombards
May 2015 · 1.0k
Yeti?
the ominous track
on a white surface

a trace of
other possibilities
   in evolution?

or simply
   a sign of life
so totally different
   imagined
yet beyond imagination?

a footprint
   on a white surface

leading elsewhere

        * *
May 2015 · 304
your eyes
your eyes
keep telling me
I am not a stranger
among the billions
   of human life forms
but have found
my woman
   in the oceans of women
to feel
at home

* *
May 2015 · 984
joy
joy
you are
   so far
the only person
who made my eyes
fill with bright
shiny tears
   of joy
when we first met
like sea and earth
under a southern sky

a moment out of many
  shared forever  
crystal-clear
   untouched
by darker memories

          * *
May 2015 · 454
all ways
all ways
   lead to the end
and there is little
you can do
  but try
to travel well

       * *
May 2015 · 594
dinner at the port
the sea
is a silken blanket
under slow-moving clouds

feisty cats pretend
   not to notice us
   enter the restaurant

   when dinner is served
   they assemble around us
   quiet but insistent

your eyes talk to me
our legs touch

I kiss your hand  
   and
when the candle is lit
   the waiter gone
distract you a little
   with a hidden caress
from enjoying your
hors d'oeuvre

        * *
May 2015 · 819
again
the presence
   of your absence
cloaks me like a shroud

I go about my business

yet it takes days
for me to regain balance
and remember that

   the hurt of missing you
   is only the result
of your existence

   the joy of being with you
   will be renewed
in the foreseeable future

only then
can my eyes begin
to smile at the world
again

          * *
May 2015 · 375
existential
a glass of wine
   too many
can make us talk
may cut through layers
   of defenses
we’ve built around
   our core

and suddenly
we find the words
for thoughts we did not
even dare admit
   to ourselves

if we are lucky
it is the ones we love
   who listen to us
   in those moments
and understand
what has been growing
   deep inside
   unspoken
and gropes towards
whatever light
a slightly slurred voice
   may provide
in the wee hours of the morning
   speaking it all
May 2015 · 635
Athens (Greece)
some venerable cities
hide their soul
   behind endless accumulations
of steely glass facades
   reflecting anonymity

in Athens
all relics of the ancient times
that once helped shape the Western World
appear like foreign bodies
   in a sea of faceless concrete cubes

   most prominent
   Akropolis and Likavitos hill
   tourist-infested and forlorn

and it is only
when you meet the people
   and see them go
   about their businesses
that you perceive
tradition here
   is strong
and still lives on
May 2015 · 332
water castles
putting on tiles
in the tiny kitchen
of his lover´s apartment
   in Paris
that belonged
to a friend of hers
   he felt
like building a house
in the middle of the Seine
starting with the second
floor
May 2015 · 514
arrival
I deplane
   under a drizzling sky
and see little else but
rain clouds hanging low
over bare hilltops
  and a few wet apartment buidlings
  beyond the runway

knowing you are there
   I feel at home

           * *
Apr 2015 · 968
firewall
that lovely night
when suddenly
you put your hand
   upon my knee
and later
snuggled up under
   my paw around your shoulder
a gentle flame sprang into life
   from dormant embers

when afterward the two of us
were rocking to a softer tune
than music would us have
   (we never made it
   to the dancing floor)
the brilliance of your eyes
shone through your flying hair
  the flame leaped high
  and built a wall
  hard but transparent

completeness was

   within

           * *
Apr 2015 · 1.6k
your truth
most people
do not want to hear
views different from their own

so
   though you think otherwise
if you want something from them
   love  attention  business  money  ***
you tell them what they like to hear
to fill their needs
to please

yet
   after a while
you recognize
that with each time
   you cater to the needs of others
you give away
   a part of your integrity
and that you better
   watch out carefully
lest you become
    no more
        than
a caleidoscopce

of their reflected selves

             * *
Apr 2015 · 511
the right thing
you work hard
   to do things right
and get kicked in the teeth
   ever so often
by people who cannot see
   beyond their pug-nosed selves

yet you continue
secretly hoping that
   somehow  sometime
someone will recognize
   your efforts

one day
   after yet another kick in the teeth
you decide you have had it

you do not stop trying

you just know
that you do

   not

   really

   need

their recognition

         * *
Apr 2015 · 909
each other
we have found each other
   across thousands of miles
   across different cultures and traditions
    
we have found each other
   among seven billion plus people
   on this globe

   finding each other
   was the easiest part

   strangers in the night

   staying together
   has been truly challenging
   at times

idiosyncracies
failures deficiencies fears
hopes wishes dreams
illusions and taboos
pieces of history from previous lives
   keep popping up at crucial moments
   in often Freudian transfigurations

   innocuous words
   may trigger convoluted memories
   freighten new contexts
      with old pain and sorrow

   a gesture
   a tone of speech
   a situation
   suddenly turn into déjà vu
   twisting their present freshness
      beyond belief
   into habitual frames of order

   the prisons of our pasts
   do not offer easy escapes

yet we have found each other
   among the billions on this globe

there is no other but the each
   to build a life together
Apr 2015 · 1.4k
above things
at standard cruising altitude
sipping my digestive
after a quite decent hot lunch
on the flight from Vienna to Athens

I gaze through the scratched
double plexiglass bulleye
shielding me from the outside world
and try to pierce the blinding haze
of a lazy spring afternoon
hiding from me

   the people shot by snipers
   the shelling of suburbs
   the burning houses
   the crowded hospitals
   of Sarajevo, Gorazde, Mostar, Zadar ...

suspended in diffuse light
all I can see is
   the silhouette of an occasional
       snow-capped mountain range

there is no sign
of human suffering

*May 1992
The war in Bosnia lasted from April 1992 to December 1995, an estimated 150.000 people were killed, about 50,000 women were *****, about 2,2 mio. people became refugees.
Apr 2015 · 407
guilt
you have done wrong
you know it
you hate it
you cannot undo it

how do you cope with it
how can you
look at your face in the mirror
and live with it
  
how can you heal
the pain and hurt you caused
the wrongs you did

guilt is a dangerous friend
strong for some time
full with repetant deeds
   you go widely out of your ways
   to make up for past mistakes

yet over time
this may become a habit insincere
  you do the proper things
  but in your heart
  the hope diminishes
that they will show
   eventually
an exit from the past
   into a brighter future

leaving you
   stranded
in a world threatened by fake remorse
   where penitence becomes routine
   the rituals of asccusation and defense
play themselves out like in a loop
   in endless repetition
    without relief

the pain you caused
the wrongs you did
are thrown up in your face
with unrelenting fury
each time a knife
   twisting in slow motion
   right in your heart

each twist draws blood
and gradually you feel
   your lifeblood flow away
with each renewed attack
   determined will
   suffers another blow

temptation to give up
grows stronger and
   at times
seems like the way
   to ease
   tormented souls
   to break
   the self-destructive circle

if you fight on
   a battered knight
   in shredded armor
it is not out of guilt
but out of love
   that wants to heal the wounds
   you cut in selfish moments
out of responsibility
   for what you did
of which you are ashamed
and cannot love yourself
until she loves you back

   again

          * *
you sailed the seas
learned to survive
on water and on land

and when you met your Mary
you gladly put an end
to roving all the globe

and settled down
to toil the land
of ancient heritage

you always knew a story
you always had a smile

you also knew that life was hard
and never fair

you loved it anyway
and lived it fully
until the very last

Bon Voyage!

I think that we will meet again
at that Bass Corner of Eternity
   and have a blast!

               * *
Apr 2015 · 370
have me
I have you
you have me
always will be part of thee

if you want me
I am thine
wake you mornings
rise & shine

shine and rise
and take me all
summer winter
spring & fall

have me
upside down & straight
I’m the lure
you are the bait

have me
down in bed & up
have me
in your chocolate cup

in your drawers
in your chest
everywhere
I’m in your nest

in your PC
in your tea
always will be part of thee

having me
means that I am there
where you are
don’t matter where

never leave you
always stay
no more sadness
always gay

have me

       * *
Apr 2015 · 385
gathering
I gather
Johann Wolfgang Goethe
   in his whimsy wisdom
was right to have his Heinrich Faust
   forego eternal bliss

   (and make a deal with the Alternative)

in his desire to arrest
a happy earthly moment

   transcend its evanescence
     in the flux of time

   give life to it
     by shape of word

and happily perish thereafter
   due to godly script

          * *
Apr 2015 · 527
feeling
holding you
in my arms

our bodies
straining
to jump
into each other’s skin

our hands
following
the contours
of strangely familiar shapes
exploring
caressing
tenderly

our eyes
   closed
have abdicated
   to other senses
shutting out reality

our lips
touching
gently
then hungry

our ears
listening inward
to body sounds
   beyond hearing
a symphony slowly swelling
   in the rhythm
   of our heartbeats
bursting
   into a sustained crescendo

feeling
us

     * *
Apr 2015 · 591
days
the days fly by
busy with all those useful things
I do to make a living
of some sort

and all throughout
your presence in my thoughts
   wondering how you are
   whether your days go well
even though we do not talk
about it on the phone
as often at the time

always the feeling
of a saddening lack,
missing your voice,
your touch, your laughter
   even your grumblings
emails and sms’s help just
   to know that you are there

yet nothing lifts my heart
   and blows away
   that melancholy gauze
until we meet again
and I can hold you tight
and dance with you
   all through the night
into a brighter morning

             * *
Apr 2015 · 396
absence III
the last one
of the orchid blossoms
has fallen

down

I am leaving in an hour

            * *
Apr 2015 · 403
absence II
one of the orchid blossoms dropped
when I came back without you

the last one is opening today

beauty lost in solitude

               * *
Apr 2015 · 493
absence I
strands of hair on white linen
some smooth, some curly

           * *
Apr 2015 · 451
the drago tree
encroached upon
throughout the centuries
by human fear seeking
protection near some venerable shape
you stand
aloof
   silently balancing
   symmetrical circles
   of roots and crown

patienly oblivious of parks
and buildings made by those
who vainly walk in awe
to grasp the mystery
   in touch, in picture, meditation
of otherness unmoved

plantlife millenial

          * *
The Drago tree is indigenous to the Canary Islands, Cap Verde Islands, Madeira. See the link below for more info.
http://www.webtenerife.co.uk/about-tenerife/fauna-and-flora/species-of-flora/drago.htm
Apr 2015 · 373
elsewhere
from the balcony of the hotel
I keep looking down
upon the elderly man
living in a one-family home
across the street

he often sits
in a rickety chair
reading newspapers

in the mornings
an elderly woman
   his wife? the houskeeper?
airs rooms and sweeps

one afternoon
there are two teenage girls
chatting along on the balcony

but usually
it is the man
sitting and reading  
or     one night
walking the balcony

did he once
cry out silently in pain
when they built the hotel
and took away
his view over the bay?

or was he the owner
of the lot along the shore?

or are he
and the elderly woman
the grandparents
of the two teenage girls
spending the summer in a rented house?

I do not know

but I wonder why
he looks to me as if
he would rather be
elsewhere

       * *
Apr 2015 · 341
closed doors
this is a time
when open doors
close silently
when I approach

against my will

I can no longer enter
familiar spaces
they lock me out

a stranger in the world
   I thought was mine
left with no home
   to take me in
shuffling through streets
   without a goal
in a world of closed doors

this is the time
when I am not

        * *
Next page