Under The Armor

Under The Armor

Once, I saw a man standing by a lake,

Hands by his side, dipped in ache.

His alabaster glass skin glowed blue,

confusion and regret, a heart too true,

lit only by the full moon´s light.

He looked like a deadly wounded knight.

Around his head the nimbus of black hair,

like seaweed, floating in liquid air;

moved by unseen currents of wrath.

Small fish hid there, undulating plastic trash.

I cannot forget those eyes, white and cruelly blank.

like a carcass washed unto the riverbank…

A godlike face, innocent, then scalded by waves of time,

ripped by tides of passion, molded by crime:

laughing, weeping, screaming for atonement.

… I chose him as my opponent.

 


image from Animatrix (Peter Chung)

London Dispersion Force

London Dispersion Force

*

Gray comet ice melting in green ocean water,

that’s what your eyes remind me of… salty cold.

Our time, the bright of friction heat and falling,

the mess, this ‘us’ refuses to be –

I remember, grasping, understanding, holding,

clinging – all the same to me: believing, hoping,

My love can keep both of us safe, I’m sure

becoming haven to stormy waters…

And the comet crashes. Burning, bleeding,

consuming all I have to give, and all I am

My hull  keeps you company,  memory of warmths

I have lost, I crumble…

and let you go…

I let you live, to find your own idea of… happiness


 

inspired by ‘Hold on‘ by Jacob Ibrag

What’s a heart for?

What’s a heart for?

*

What’s a heart between beats?

Useless pieces of wind-up mechanics

a still lump of  faulty desire,

shaped by struggle,

tireless in its longing

molten rock spiked with shards of glass

broken words, silence of salty tears

frozen into piercing ice

and where my blood should whisper and flow

I got silence and… regret

So-

What’s a heart between beats?

Mine – a coiled snake ready to bite

– a lump of hurt, confusion and anger.


 

inspired by “Ache” written by Jacob Ibrag; Tattoo By Teniele Sadd

first times

first times

*

I remember the sand between my toes

remember the first light invading the beach

remember the cold salty water

licking at my ankles, fingertips touching

remember your lips on mine

funny how seeing you – maybe – the last time

makes those first times so preciously vivid

treasured, under my veins, not zombified…


 

inspired by “Last Time” by  Jonathan Safran Foer, pic by Author, Funchal, Madeira

 

Love, isn’t it?

Love, isn’t it?

All deadly things possess cruel beauty.

For soul, a hungry fire, consuming duty-

for eyes, charcoal and diamonds,

for voice, a guttural growl, then silence.

For skin, a hot summer night ‘n bright stars.

Light headed music oozing from cheap bars…

All deadly things possess magnetic pull.

You bite trouble, poison just a mouthful,

better you nibble, or lick…. Kiss! Try’n inhale.

Immune to that rush? Don’t worry, you’ll fail.

Tingling under your fingers, a nervous tic,

Lips on lips, teeth meeting with a click…

All deadly things make you sincere…

So greedy, so wolfish, so ready to disappear.


Pic: Love is the Beast, by ROMANS

blessed

blessed

nowadays I’m blessed with wrath;

a poison filled hollow, a walking skin

puffy eyes of dark, lips parched.

they part to let the shadow escape

between tiny millstones; my ivory tusks

they let it slip, grow, blossom in space,

so it ripens to a fruit,  a shape, to a world

A world where souls do not matter

Where ghosts do not exist to be found

Where dreams are meant to be dissolved

in the past that died, sharing

the future that never comes

Nowadays I’m blessed with rage divine

Like a forgotten god, a flickering demon

with a milky stare, and wet tongue

licking off tears, blood ‘n sweat

easing the wounds of a false me

Nowadays… I’m blessed…

– with frenzy.

hole in the middle

hole in the middle

wish to wish the words will flutter

in the wind of  greed and hunger,

they will whisper for lust and rage.

in the back of your cranial maze

eviscerating the tiny peculiar voices

Unsaid the matter of importance

a sin just leaving it to ignorance

certainly there’s a prize to pay.

it’s your fault if you stay….

the craving grows,

the hunger howls…

Not enough.

Never enough!

 

 

 


pic by Robert Serban, Dacian insignium / war flag