Salty, moist air settles down on the frail skin of my untrained arms. The wind, gusts of it hitting my face, cold, brutish, harsh. My hair in a frenzy, the view into the distance hampered by an approaching storm. Grey all over. Black inside. The sand beneath me is giving in, birds are flying inwards, […]Read more "Bare matter"
I could have taken care of myself, fostered relationships, had fun. I guess I was busy. I could have loved and laughed, passed on memories. I guess I was busy. I could have been the one to knit my sweater, to harvest the malt. I could have cheered you on, I could have soaked up […]Read more "I guess I was busy"
Of genius, color and despair, of opportunity and flair, the swan sang a song before it drowned. A babylonian tower on top of a mount. Chiseling away at blue to get to the copper underneath. Heed the falcon, to double jeopardy yield. Whitewashed, not washed, crusty, crumbling, chipping off. A white linen cloth, used and […]Read more "Stockholm"
An empty head. An empty page. A bursting head. An empty page. Pressure – muffling and shrill at once. A void that is never near to clear, a hole that is but a disarmed reaction to simply everything. Blank And then this shrill noise… this terrible high pitched buzzing sound that pierces my eardrums and […]Read more "Empty"
Addiction brings Seductive sins A night’s lost sleep A chair on which to weep Behaviour that can’t be controlled Breaking out of a fitting mould Who a limerick sings To Sanity clings As though it were life, the purest And death on this path, the surest Oh what hope may I have? To be done […]Read more "Addiction in verse"
Far away, windmills are turning Bankers are churning The world’s for burning But not here. Far away, how deep the divide How hard to decide Love is denied But not here. Far away, people are dying Children are crying Governments are prying But not here. Far away, problems unsolved No one involved […]Read more "Far away is here"
Un tas de feuilles mortes, mais puis le soleil déjà. Le soleil qui dit bonjour pour la première fois depuis des mois, le soleil qui est enfin de retour. Des rues glacées me font tomber, mais en glissant, je vois que, derrière le coin, les fleurs se remettent de l’hiver. Je dégèle enfin, Angèle est là. […]Read more "Une âme qui dégèle"