Poem: Gap between the breaths

whoever will get to taste my bones

and discover my highway full of secrets

there is an everlasting light which haunts me

in dreams I disappear completely to a place

where starlight kisses the sky

it ignites my skin for it knows my voice

stories wrapped in melody

in the gap between the breaths

songs are like bells calling us home

we ask ourselves hard questions

looking for answers our whole lives

in this wretched sea of denial

passion leads words to freedom

I am the ocean, a river of thoughts

flowing through the flesh

there are rooms with different versions

of our selves, various landscapes

through which we fought on our adventures

memories are like creatures

sneaking up on you in the middle of a sentence

the ones you feed, will gladly come back for more

and change their shape to fit in

others, they fade to black

sitting in silence until forgotten

unless they scheme to fill the melody

in the gap between the breaths

*

Poem: Oblivion

wind forgot how to roam

dust soundlessly covers up the valley

where we dig to discover our secrets

we've been hiding for ages

obsessed with putting cages

on things we can't control

hiding them somewhere safe

or so they keep on telling us

but do we ever see

we're the ones being caged too

so profoundly, keeping our selves busy

in our important lives

hungry for food and entertainment

seemingly never having enough

denying the meaning of the word

blinded by the glitter

breathing the constant high

abused as long as we have something to sell

running the machine we can't stop

living in our hypnosis, deciding

what is real and what is not

what is right and what is not

time passes, yet we don't look up

to face the monster

world doesn't care for your dreams,

hopes and sorrows, only for the symmetry

between your bones and how young

your skin appears to be

in this oblivion we fall

into the realm of the forgotten

our lives but a deck of cards

caught in a spiders' web

life drips from us,

like an i.v. infusion

. . .

*

Once I thought it would be possible to publish a poetry collection every three years. It's been three years since my last one. This is the third poem I've written this year. So you see where this is going. Maybe sometime in the future, but there's no deadline. Someday.