implique de boire le element vital
lie a le cordon de la souffrance humaine
alors souris petit, ne pleure pas encore Continue reading
Category Archives: poetry
An Old Oak Tree Grows There
Only grow
like an old oak tree
that is firm
and will agree
reed does fold
roots do hold
Only hurry
like a steady water
as my heart
a trough of fodder
seed to nourish
love to flourish
Of Queen and Peasant
For majesty a throne
She stands in grace alone
Her smile equally dosed
Decisively composed
The peasant has his land
He stands to serve her end
His honor is to bow
and serve he is endowed
The moon is to the sun
Not his own that is done
But in the bigger light
He shines a little bright
Uncanny Love
Through this dark night
Your heart is bright
Like a fair moonlight
My soul you guide
Into your loving bed
To suckle your breast
And clamp your chest
Into your womb my head
So you sooth
me like a boy
To be a man
Thus looted
By a woman coy
love uncanny
The Perception of Sea Time
she dances like bouncing particles
on top of the foaming waves
a venus rising out of passing water
from the splashed semen of Uranus
she moves like the soul a ship
a glazing stare of round fish eyes
hiding under the surface fleece
like the faring sea I see
then feel the sudden calm
before the rush of changing motion
a roaring gust of salty wind
that combs through her light blond hair
awning layers of hovering clouds
along the singing circles of air
casting a landscape of shadows
on the ocean’s running blues
Der Engel und das Mädchen
durch ein Loch in den Himmel
schaue ich in die Wolken
und ich sehe das Lächeln eines Engels
aus der Augenhöhle rollt eine einzige Träne
und fällt in die weichen Kissen
einzigartig wie sie mir anschaut
und flüstert leise Worte der Trauer
zärtlich trinken meine Lippen von ihrem Kummer
und zaubert das Lächeln eines kleinen Mädchens
das in den Himmel steigt
I look into the clouds
through a hole in the sky
and I see the smile of an angel
from her socket a single tear rolls
and falls into the soft cushion
she looks at me singularly
and whispers sorrowful words
my lips drink from her tender grief
and the smile of a little girl appears
who rises toward the sky
the marriage of aphrodite
from the eastern crest of the setting eve
a wave of crystal particles like foam diverge
its shining stars wash ashore of ithaka
and curl in the green room of night
it is still and it is dark here
beauty greater than gold transits before a churning fire
so bright and large that it blinds our sight
her eyes sparkle married in heaven lit for only man to see
that we are wrapped in celestial embrace for lasting good
until death lands the kiss upon our fragile lips
with the salty taste of the sea that once gave birth to love
now gives birth to an eternity greater than man can love
there is written in the sky
only love can guide us through this night
and deliver man to womans thighs
Death in Venice
Two days between these walls of palaces
I rushed past the dead beauty that stood
like erect monuments to fleeting strangers
Chased by the shadows of old loves
Among those bright colors I smelled death
With its gay stare and gentle smile
The sun beating high above my sweated forehead
Whipping the fear into my lonely heart
That I am lost in this labyrinth of bridges
fleeing from island to island
from embrace to embrace
My sweet Selene where is the bridge
from which I jump into the abyss
Acheron
I crossed the river of pain. Some say it heals, for only when one passes Acheron, will one no longer fear the flesh of the body. Tightly clenched in my fist, I still hold the coin. This is the realm of the spirit, where I hold angels dear. For many this is the realm of death, where they feel nothing anymore, know nothing. This is a time to greet, for joy, for welcome. The water is a stream that nourishes the dead who only sense emptiness, they, Lazarus, pray like baboons. But I fear not, no need to fall on my knees. I do not shiver, but frivol. Those who think of death as life, those who fear, they pay a price when they cross, they cannot return. But to me, death is in life, with the spirit in which I joy resurrected.
The Cave of Zeus
from the breath of Cronos
is born the island of the goddess
where the lemons grow
departing from the spring of aria
a string of sheep bells
rings from the steps
fleeing before me
leading to the cave of Zas
white steps reflecting the light
the sun rays slide
along a wall of virgin stainless marble
the narrow path of worship Continue reading