almost remembering

Inspired by “Gravity” by Danny Pool

 

Fading to a shadow, husk of the man I used to be

the swirling blackness inside me came to agree,

 

your words are the cold gust I flutter in,

struggling towards you, like a banner for sin –

 

torn by promises and pleas… Not enough, not free.

Forgotten by love, I’m oarless floating on the sea.

 

A shadow dissolves into the darkest night

if it forgets that there was warmth and light…

 

I’d breathe but the leaden black on my chest,

adds the weight of your memory to my breast.

 

Midnight’s coming, and I know I’m flawed.

Storm’s coming and I’m the lightning rod

 

The Lunatic And The Moon

*
I submerge in the silvery flood
of the dark whisper in my blood
past’s poison floats to the surface
full in shape, the moon rises too
midst the sclera of midnight blue –
“Observing, my dear! Observing
your fate and redemption…”
*
All those tiny human things
I wished to lose, not to suffer,
not to hunger, nor to feel pain.
I´d give you my love, my hate,
my body, my pain, my thoughts,
my everything, just to be free.
-Free from my humanity.
*
She quietly observes, maybe pondering.
The enormous eye rests on a rooftop,
blinks eventually. Once… Twice…
“As you wish, my love.”
Night’s cold I don’t feel anymore
Power surges through my bones
Rises like water over volcanic stones.
*
Wounds on my skin all healed,
my soul’s grim just a bad dream.
Only hunger keeps me company.
I lick my muzzle starvingly,
scratch my ear, with a paw-
„WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
But my scream’s just a howl… 

*

***

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the birds fled as /

the smart trot and jingling  of the rimy harnesses/

cross the laughing woods

*

How it went:

I was on the prowl to take some photos of the wildlife, in a little wood nearby. I do that a lot. The weather was cold, the wind bit my cheeks. Curiously, the  birds started singing, and I did my best to sneak up on them.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching hooves startled the birds, and they took off.  As the carriage passed by my position, the people on it started laughing. I must have looked foolish, standing there in the ditch, clambering unto the rimy rosebush, camera glued to my face.

how to become a dragon

there is a spot in every human heart

a place where the beats start

where a sacred fire burns so hot

that time itself is blazed’n caught

in obsidian; frozen  in motion

peace and hope, love and emotion

like glass; such a delicate thing

hasty words become poisonous sting

a crack is all it takes; and it’s easily made

and the smiles and butterflies all fade

nervous fingers scratch, eyes dilate,

tongue meanders, nothing is straight

every touch hurts, each memory burns

every word gravitates, till fate turns…

but sometimes the hope gets chuck

the poor heart is tainted and stuck

its fire is cursed into envy and rage

melting its way through the ribcage

fusing skin into heat resisting armor

wings- easy as the smile of a charmer

bloated cynical phrases carry a bitter wind

flames to melt the soul, to make you blind

claws to destroy others, that’s a dragon’s guilt

and when the fire dies, that’s when you tilt

the other

there is this house between lime trees

an old man with a black dog lives there

and on the collar it carries a bunch of keys

listen – a distant jingle in the cold night air

One key is black, the other made of silver,

one is of iron, one of wood and quicksilver,

one of rust, one of copper, one made of lies

one is made of sunshine, one of bottle flies

night falls with pallid light and heavy shadows

winter chill  exhaled from the animal’s wet nose

the old man lights a candle and his dog sits

he arranges pebbles, buttons and wooden bits

his dry bony fingers poke at them on the table

trying to pick up a witch stone but unable

he smiles and tugs a key from the collar

the dog howls, saddened with dark dolor

its eyes glow, searching for his master’s face

searching for an impulse in time and space

The old man stands up bent, goes to the door

jams the key into the lock to turn it once more

the entrance door swings open, to let in the dark

the dog follows the living light ignited into spark

the heart of a fey

a woman walked the woods by a moonlit pond

her golden robe, hair’n scales in glistening blonde

she searched land and lake- on the silver line

her steps placed on the ridges of water’s spine

 

grass with pearls of icy dew easing her way

picking  a grey soul, blood offspring from fey

pine trees behind her whispered’n breathed

the green, the blue, the pale squeezed

 

away from the withering kingdom of past

only a word away from the witch’s mark

only a wish away from the bleeding dark

orbs of light for eyes , her gaze cast

 

upon the shattering world of today

a haunted  heart is a restless stray

if you must, prolong your stay

the realm of now, is a scarring way