Poem: Heroes

every one of us lives his own story

filled with happiness and sorrow

our voices entwined to the world

wishing only to love and be loved

to take care of those dear to the heart

to protect and nurture

and what if they are taken away from us?

precious bodies in your arms, lifeless

and there's no one who can save them

no one who could fix our problems

all the world loses its' reason

how long does it take for sadness

to disappear from the fields?

or does it echo there for generations?

when people kill people

                who's the hero?

the one who won't show his face

but carry on, doing one good deed

at a time; who won't allow

his back to be broken by despair

raging around in turmoil

the believer that the good will prevail

in the end; the one who can loose

everything, yet still have faith in humanity

*

are you?

Poem: Comfort of the clouds

in the comfortable corner of the room

when the world becomes silent and black

my thoughts subside, and only then do I dare to admit 

I think of you most of the time

more than I would allow to show

I utter a tiny wish, that you would think of me 

as often as I think of you

wishing that what we ventured onto was real and true

but I'm afraid to look up at the sky,

for it's easy enough to be shot down

so I keep it a secret, somewhere where I believe

I can guard it and play safe

but the truth is, the walls fall apart

as if you see right through me

just a thought of you soothes my weary mind

and I know the comfort of the clouds
*

Poem: Tiny silk thread

your cheek touches the hard surface of the pavement

in your eyes there are no sparks smouldering

the spirit resists and it bites as long as it can

but sometimes we enter and we fall

under the grip of a zombie killer with dotted wings

transparent X marks the spot where greed dwells

only one eternal love rules the world

smell of money and stupid things

under the fingernails like a drug

all things we have now started as a dream of someone

but it's up to the generations

what purpose they will bring to them

can a tiny silk thread change much?

*

Poem: Sigh

your feet have stepped

on the same staircase

hundreds of times

in haste and in languidness

I can hear creaking of wood on certain parts

over-used with heavy burden

like a sigh reaching out from the lungs

a well-known and established path

has taken you on plenty of different journeys

some even made you question the steps you've chosen

and have I been unknowingly walking behind you?

funny, what kind of feelings time can stir up inside

what would it take to diminish your deep-rooted sorrow?

*

Written for Magpie Tales #228.

Poem: A small matter of falling

a rock falling into pitch blue lake – soundlessly,

with little or no effort; it makes its' way naturally,

like my heart melting when his eyes hold me captive

no air left in my lungs, only the warmth spreading

to the bottom, where all things go quiet.

*

Poem: China Doll

I hear a question

»Did you sleep ok?«

like out of the blue

I didn't even know I was awake,

my mind still puzzled

my skin slowly fading away

like it's losing layer after layer

and there's no way to stop it

how much more time do I have?

pieces of a broken china doll

lay on the table

there is a flame burning

and it seems as all the pieces

are coming together

as I dance, birds fly

from my hands in a free motion

and I envy the freedom at their wings

*

 When the temperatures rise, my mind gets confused, thus the poem may be a bit confusing.