Sunday, 22 November 2015

Poem: Every leaf is a thought

every leaf is a thought that falls
from the mouth, touching the ground
some yellow, some red with fire
they either mark the new path
or soil the old one; they can carry
different weight, although logically
they are all the same, made of letters
and words; yet some fall heavy on the heart
and can weight a person down,
some touch the heart gently
and they lift up the spirit, as if
they attached a balloon on it
it takes the same amount of time
and energy, but the intention
has different arrows and aims;
fear is a powerful tool,
it spreads like wild fire,
burning bridges; through the smoke
we stay blind to the truth,
as the war over power rages on
and you will never know
the amount of hearts in need of mending
and what will it take to fix it all

Saturday, 31 October 2015

Story: Haunting hotel

As we were checking in at the hotel, the manager, an older man, told us not to worry if we hear or see something unusual. In a hushed voice he said: »Sometimes a ghost may appear and play with the objects in the room«. He handed us a few drugs to take, so we could enjoy the vacation nonetheless. Gossip was that his wife died a violent death and now her spirit haunts the place. He doesn't do anything about it, because he loves her. In the hotel library there was a blind woman, and I swear I could see death behind those eyes. They said she could release old demons that follow a person. When we slept I heard some mumbling and moving around the room. I opened my eyes and I saw three figures standing beside my bed, one right in front, other two on my right side. Two had heads of a wolf, one a head of a raven. I laid paralyzed in my bed, unable to move an inch, not even to let out a scream. I forced my mind to fall back asleep. After that night all I saw was dark as if the sun never rose again. At the lake we saw three motorists driving in circles, one fell into the lake, but the bike drove on, as if a ghost took it. The two remaining took the event as something normal, it happened, let’s move on. Determent to find a solution, to set the spirit of manager’s wife free, and let it rest in peace, we dug through the local legends. One neighbour recalled an old saying, that only a rare stone from a Slovenian cave would set the spirit free. We just had to find out.


 Based on my nightmare and sleep paralysis I had.

Poem: Dreamers

photo: Daniel Murtagh

under the light of the universe
a rainbow extends between the rose
I carry in my arms and the rest
of my wishes in the wishing well
deep in my dreams I am alone
being swept under the golden
and yellow leaves through the mists
of what hides behind the next step
you find me gazing at the moon
and I wonder why it's so simple
to fall into you - the touch of your fingers
runs through the depths of my skin
setting fire to all the things I thought
I knew to be true
shadows disappear
as we collide
into each others' eyes
time has a way of bringing
our dreams down
and in this world rich
are the dreamers
and I hope ours'
get to shine
Written for the Mag #291

Thursday, 8 October 2015

Poem: About Time

Time should be a logical thing
made up of dates, hours, minutes, seconds...
one following the other, same measure – anyway you look at it
It may have happened a year ago,
but it seems it was yesterday
It may have happened a few months ago,
but it seems it was few years ago
as if our internal clocks go as they please
with a mind of their own
such a relative thing, yet it controls
much of our thinking and planning
It has many expectations – what
we expect to have and achieve to a certain age
not questioning if we are ready
but searching for a perfect time
also has its flaws
Do you know how many hours you spent sleeping?
And how dreams bend that perception of time?
And how hard it is on some days, to just get out of bed
How many dreams have you dreamt
from the worst nightmare
to the feelings we could only dream up?
so many problems you resolved
as you drifted away
from the stairs of the past
from the promise of the future
time has ability to cure many woes
you live in a maze of space and time
and all you have is now
everything else is a distraction
we all yearn for the moments
when time just stops and stands still
like when you look into your lovers eyes
and there is just the two of you in the universe
Written for the Mag #288

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Poem: Edges of the heart

can anybody count the number
of wishes falling stars carry?
or the secret talks of yearning
that were confided to the moon?
so many different versions of love exist
and we all search for the right one
to put balance in our life
to show us some new meaning
it may feel like falling of an aeroplane
when starting the first conversation
or it may be easy, trusting what will happen
once you cast away the shadows of the past
and let go the footsteps previous lovers left
all we really want is for someone
to warm the cold edges of our hearts
 And this is my 200th post here. That is all ;)

Poem: To a grandmother

it's been ages since the house last felt
the curious steps of a child
or parents sitting on the balcony
pondering at the end of the day
viewing the land beyond them
it still stands here, as a reminder
of lives that once lived here
this is the place you were born into
where you began your journey on this earth
a life that showed you many paths
but you were always strong
strange to realize I'd like to talk to you now
for when I was a child, you had a different role
and what did I know then of passing things
maybe it was best for you to leave and not see
how your family fell apart after you left
as if you were a glue holding them to each other