Every man can become a poet.
The taste of her absence is enough.
Every woman? Only in His presence
Prophecy #6 🥠
prophecy #4🥠
The Cobweb’s Enigma ~
Like a bee entangled in
a summer spider’s web,
It accidentally unravels,
when the wind clumsily and unexpectedly blows…
” Rose, always rising…”
Leaving behind the place with the high walls and the bright less windows, she was
Leaving behind the place with the high walls and the bright less windows, she was …
The light that was absent, the darkness discarded – was giving away in her eyes.
Each obstacle was the figure of a sin, marking the track of the guilty. She emerged from the narrow street and started walking … seeking Absolution.
What is left behind dwells in the past – otherwise distorts vision, the sight.
Always she was afraid of the bridges, their bodies.
Where fresh joined post there was awe.
Similar to the admiration of birth, like a string of fresh-cut top …
Asking the Waters of the deepest oceans
She claimed to be Born again and they wished to her, while caught in a circle:
” Rose, always rising…”
The Mask ~
Cheapness is just a mask
to the incapable of mercy
In the honesty of their zero,
that’s where I Love Them
With lightning, they separated in two
body from soul hook
Do whatever you want to the bodies
The opium inside is nobody’s business
It is inversely a honey
This lightning I searched for tonight
Words are leaven for a song
Let the aromas pass
– like a puff of smoke, the image
Wearing revealing clothes hides a lot
Even if they appear to be undressing
They wrap veils around the hips
They wrap their hips around borrowed poles
The veils open, but the cold remains intact
They have a passion half for life-like death
They have a breath they waste,
Saying that they are always waiting for something
crimson their open door
In the age of innocence
I wanted to cross it and save them
Imprisoned and without following too
I know I love their beginnings
I fear their endings
Because they are fatally written
An impossible utopia
Looking for the moon in the water
A bright moon illuminates the water,
But only by reflection.
The fool who considers reflection
a treasure,
wants to fish the moon out of the water.
Don’t get carried away chasing utopias.
climax^ { for my dad }
You were beautiful, even though you didn’t let the gaze penetrate your soul …
you were afraid of your truth, you were afraid they would find it ugly
and without shape …
all my life, every word (will) imply how beautiful you were …
and this is
a correction and a rearrangement of fate ^
Wild birds of the night | poetry
I want to tell you a story …
But I can’t find the right words for this out-of-this-world starry night …
At night, the wild birds always walk alone.
dropping their wings to their audience _
It was you – from heaven to earth and again back to me,
under, through you, in between, whole and above ….
the soul waited for the mind to align, finally, as
one
1000 wounds | poetry
Like the smell of rain
Like the stars that never appear
You are bittersweet
Bitter like 1000 sweets
You are sweet like 1000 wounds
Red wine in water
Like the alcohol that leaves the wound clean
And you are like the wind
Whatever wind surrounds you, you do not return
And your lips are thin like a crossing
Like a limit, like a line that defines- 1000 that does not speak
The green sapphires dived into the depths
To bring me the water
And I opened a handful in the shape of a hug
If the water forgets, it would find its boat
Like the cloud that emptied me
But you caught it before it dried
If the water leaves, the ports will have found a station, 1000 I will wander in my open fist
1000 I will empty again, and there I will become again
Knowing what the call commands are
Knowing the flavors of the stations, I will stop looking- I will stop calling.
And if I erase these lines, they will never be written – they will never call.
Did I erase them?
A crystal moon ~
As always, the moon is a crystal that distorts the moment I was letting go*
And I get lost, sinking into the garden that its light drew me in**
Like adrenaline, the body once recognized it (the pain) –
Why should there be pain?
Isn’t it the deepest emotion~
