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

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Poem: Letting go

as I search for the house of sun
to perish the sorrows of the past
the wrong doings that took place
I realize that we will always be learners
we are what we think
our thoughts flow like fish
either with the current or against it
but until we learn to master them
we can use a flash light to mark the blame
or a magic wand to lose ourselves
beliefs build up our realities
they are so easily accessible
from a fountain to a telephone
the path can have many peaks
and descents; it may feel like
it will never change
but all is there for a reason
when you stop to let go
and accept yourself
the direction will also change
Written for the Mag #284

Monday, 17 August 2015

Poem: The cavern of my thoughts

how do you know how long to wait
do you smell it when the time is up
or do you blindly take a leap of faith?
how much of our childhood memories
have we changed with time? 
when age takes us over, will they still be vivid?
and do you know the answer to the question
why poets will never be scientists?
sometimes we need that alarm clock to ring louder
to get us back on the road again
as we counted the stars from sunset to sunrise
but forgot the number, because our lips entwined
by the camp fire we exchange conversations
that could fill a book, yet there still won't be
any black and white answers, as we would expect
since we don't like it to be gray, especially when
talking about future plans; some trust that the plane
will get them to the destination in the right direction
others would rather use a magnifying glass
to spy through the keyhole, but it wouldn't bring
nothing but a worried face; since you can't really
trust your eyesight, it has flaws as well,
like your mind.

Poem: Coffee and tea

it's the way it gently kicks you
in the morning or in the night
when you need to stay sharp
it's the way lovers first meet
with glances and smiles
exchanging hearts
the way we openly share
our experience with friends
the way we study
words into our heads
the way we find comfort
in those days of cold and sadness
the way it has become a ritual
for which we could fight
it's the way we speak about death
in hushed voices and with respect
knowing it awaits us as well
the way it brings people together
in all countries of the world
how much of our lives is shared
over a cup of coffee and tea
and how they will never know