Insignificant Earthquake
The dagger you left Whose blade was blunt you claimed Hangs over my head You removed it from your chest To stab mine instead This is the suspended sentence The honed dart that drops your blood On my trembling body Despite all the shivers I won’t let it crucify me Find yourself excuses Call me a ventriloquist, A starving lover or a narcissist Your finger points at a pile of lies If I shouted out my feelings My voice would have torn off The skin from your face It is the raw sheer silk Of a poppy picked with a jolt And restitched by rage I’m overfed with the wine Our feet have made One day I will throw it up Make my own holy liquor And enjoy it alone I saw you from my window Nonchalantly walking on by A few flickers may have quivered But something greater radiated Peace – pure and light A red balloon floating in my head
Grief
I caught sight of you Walking to the forest Pines of amnesia Silence remains So does your face But the ghost you’ve become Is even more beautiful He surrounded my heart With barbwire ivy And his whispers Itched my lids I also come nearer those trees Standing as melting candles In search of lost solace It could be found Hidden behind nettles and hollies These webs of horns I may have left dots of blood On my snow-white hands A tissue of skin It took me so much time To find the answer Of dosing away the pain You need to forget Dance the way Wind carries raindrops away From the trees
These were the days
These were the days With you While I was fishing for compliments And you came out as a rainbow fish My creased hands picked you All wiggling and youthful It was the sun on my belt That drew you to me These were the days When we tamed each other Under a drizzling honey sun And we both shared a spoon To taste this golden lava These were the days When I drank nothing but in the river Where you said you lived Kisses were slow and wet then And our arms could hold the whole earth These were the days In which I sang A love like ours would never die I pushed your face To any poems’ lines And I wasn’t afraid to smile There was a day When you said Old and grey You needed to hide your tears In the water So you dove and swam away There were days Where there was nothing left But mud The spring was gone So I filled it up With a course of Rhum And used a beer bottle bait In hope of finding your specter Meanwhile I remembered These were the days Twenty-seven days My lucky number I would look for you All day long Bending over the river I could have fallen and drowned In this bitter orange flow It wouldn’t have mattered You would have kept swimming These were the days I need to get over them
Flight of the dragonfly 