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… 

*

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

hidden

A cave hums into life,

as if filled with millions of bees

Glowing wandering Liongoddess

shines her eyes into the dark,

piercing the imaginary hive

A snarl, a huff, a lick, a soft paw

With retracted claws rises…

Golden fur and honey eyes,

recognition flows with excited buzz

the cave hums into the night

tightening into alignment

The moon’n stars, and the sleeping sun

and all the light from the passage way

the goddess goes, a step at a time

rays after silvern strings push her up

into the ripped fabric of the world

her golden figure vanishing into the ripple

of her own dreams…

little red riding hood

*

a drowsy little witch, with eyes like the angry sea

dressed in crimson, mouth shaped like a plea

she walked down the road to the black forest

right into its darkest, to a circle of fairy rocks

*

nobody dared to look at her

nobody dared to speak to her

nobody dared to go with her

*

a drowsy little witch, with eyes like a storm

and limbs white, innocent as a lamb, newly born

once a month, she went to the full moon

the midnight flowers blossomed and bloomed

*

nobody knew she’d shed her clothes

nobody knew she’d shed her skin

nobody knew she’d clad in claws’n fur

*

At full moon, nobody goes into the black forest

not to work, not to run or stand still, not to rest

All know, a monstrous wolf hunts there

Hellish howls, ghostly lights fog up there

edge of time

I sat on the edge,

the edge of the world,

wondering, for a while,

where my heart went.

I saw footsteps ahead

I saw motion beneath

the golden horizon

I stood up… Someone,

someone is coming back!

“Is that you?!

You came back?

For… me?”

The shadow is close now.

Bends, we nearly touch

“I was looking for you.

Don´t hide or run. Seriously,

we won´t play next time”