Poetry

 

BLACK LETTERS

The dark night sky is a faithful canvas,
With a cup of coffee by my side
I pick up my pen to write you a letter
You of the evening sky
Traveling over my window
In the form of a single star.
I feel tenderness rising within me.

Letters are black.
They form constellations,
Simple,
Complex spirals turned into meanings,
Saying everything and nothing at all
Always and at the same time.

I lay down in the morning dew,
Watching the cats lazing around the porch,
The smaller one lying in the grass,
The grey tom on the bench,
Looking smug as cats do,
Because he knows better than I do
Where my soul mates.

In my dreams it is always winter,
Cold, dark night
And I look up at the starry sky
The canvas filled with life and love and curiosity.
Happiness.
And I think of things that were
The smiles of strangers,
Or kind words from a child,
Your strange entrance into my chaos.

In my nightmares it is always bright,
Green leaves on the trees,
Flowery meadows in all the colors of the rainbow,
Poppies, Daisies, Dandelions,
But I’m here all alone,
Waiting for the cats to come,
And tell me the secret
That will unlock my desires.

As the last dot is in place,
I seal the envelope with a kiss,
The cat purrs contentedly,
But I miss his cue,
The clue,
And continue to argue with myself
About the darkness.

COME, WALK WITH ME

Yes,

We will go to the little village,

Surrounded by the sea

Large mountains to the east.

Where there is no sun in the winter

And every secret is under the surface,

Crawling but well known. 

                           Legends.

 

We will walk,

Hand in hand,

In the fog.

 

The houses painted in dim muffled colours,

Like a churchyard for dead Leviathans.

I will show you the colours of my soul,

This pastel hue, it isn’t me.

I will show you the memories

The ones I keep in my darkest compartments.

I will show you the fire

Underneath my sleeping volcanos,

Whisper to you the stories I never told

And you will know the tears of the past,

Because they resonate with your own.

 

We will stay at The Blackheart Hotel,

The timber newly painted,

with view over the sea,

And when the morning fog keeps us cocooned

I will show you the color of my love

Dark red, bright blue

Black and white.

 

Then when the hour is late,

And the bottle on the table is empty

You will lean forward and whisper the words

I so long to hear. 

 

“Come, walk with me,” you’ll say

And I stand up,

Ready to see your landscape. 

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