30 Poems in 30 Days (Redux)

3

long and winding
the asphalt stretches ahead
for too long riding
in a land of feelings, so dead
round and round
feet spin, miles fly under the bike
fleeing any sound
but the wind whispering like
some hushed song
stuffed with broken promises
is this moving on
or just a kind of cowardice?
 
4

as Chris Rea is looking for the summer
the last warm fall day tumbles away
orange cotton balls crowd the skies
almost as if it was still mid-sunrise
I wonder what happened to the Once
half a lifetime moving back and forth
a constant line of points of no return
the engine dies, the radio as well
I turn to deeper shades of blue
 
8
Half full moon
Makes me an
Optimist
But no one calls it
Half empty
I think I’ll start

The moon is half-emptY
Big wide black space
Covers that other side
They wild night calls
But I only hear the cars
 
Sometimes you have to dig
deep and deeper
for where you placed that
tiny seed
that despite the darkness
and the drought
of humility in our human nature
may still grow
and blossom. Hope.
 
9
It’s still Sunday to me

One by one
Killing me slowly
Yet I kiss you
A hundred times
A day
Your sensual form
Floats ghost-like
And curls into
The air
 
6

Lasagna
ambrosia of lovers
cheesy on top, so full of it
the purists revolt in their calorific graves
sear your tongue with wholesome satisfaction
cold, I'm afraid, it tastes like loneliness
devour as much as long as it's hot
I pity those who never risked
their lips and their hips
for a bite of love
 
7

You can
fear fear
love love
hate hate
but what about
regret?

That turning
the hands of time
with fingers bound

The savegame that is not,
was there a day
when you didn't wish
it was a save game?

just a chance to return
erase spilled words, undo deeds
never let a cold stone beat in your chest

As for humans err,
how much of that human would be left,
when you stopped wishing?
 
11

The words of his
Poetry may
Only consists of
Ahhhs and yays
But the sound of
Him resonates
To the bone
Communicating through
Primal sounds, always
Expressing that
Visceral need
To consume
Another’s energy
Just like me
 
8

The symphony of sweet nothings
as composed and rehearsed
in forgotten lunch breaks
and pointless meetings
turns into a little silly hum
attracting ears on the way home
where all the notes are swept away
by hungry eyes and groaning seams
'cause this is not just any -
lost between the weekend peaks -
but Hump Day
 
12

Through the dark
Cavernous places
Where we once hid together
I return for you
To show the way
I found, the entrance
Of an exit
Where escape is
The only way
If you want to come,
I’ll wait a little longer
 
9

Entering the night that's stuffed with lonesome sidewalks and deserted bus stops
plastic bags stroll around markets and meet at the crossroads of the sleeping city
a whirlwind of rustling, our feet caught in the moment the undreamt future awaits
behind the next corner, we guess our favorite colors as the hue of each other's eyes
untamed by any shared memory, except for the corners, and the heads we turned
escaping into the night from a life without someone we haven't met. Yet.
 
13

This love is real
When our eyes connect
A telepathy occurs
We hear each other
With a clarity
That this place will
Never understand,
No one can but us
 
10

I'm the deceiver of romance
the very mortal end of it
the traitor of the grand scheme
of those three small words
They don't roll of my tongue
like a Himalayan avalanche,
no big gestures, no emeralds
to match your damn green eyes
only some few hundreds bulbs
planted on the acres I'd like to take you
for a walk among what's blossomed
as colorful as our moods, certainly not
a tropical beach with sun-kissed beauties
no high-rise candle-light dinners
only another minute, or hour, waiting
for the sunrise above your Sunday body
covered in the Fae gold of the morning
my week old stubble pressed into your back
sticking to you until at last I can't stand it anymore
to not have those two mugs of coffee brought here
and I still wonder why you still tell me
those three words
 
14

Nothing in mind
But the current crisp air
Nothing comes to me
Fill in my blanks
Show me where
Ellipsis go
Before I put them
 
11

A carpet of honey, scarlet and hazel
is spread wide where my eyes linger
while faerie dresses of gossamer curl
around the trees, each of their finger
touch the amethyst womb above
summer like an ingrown splinter
a dream in the seeds and bulbs
listening to the whisper of winter
 
15

I'm afraid
I'm losing interest again
Things start to go gray
Pictures words memories
Like this weather I embrace
I could just erase
If you scrub hard enough
Anything can be cleaned
Going deeper than flesh
Going away from the crash
refresh rewind remain
In this quicksand
 
12

Beneath layer upon layer
we hoard our warmth
like the masks we wear
against the cold outside
the unbridged body-kiss
a deep well for the seed
that blossoms into a day
to make it count. 6430...
 
13

lush
b
erry brush
h
ide my merry crush
and her wide shy cherry blush
d
on't you end stir-fried, fly wary thrush!
away from skelter, through the slush
c
ome shelter, to the brush
n
ow, hush
 
14

A poem on Shannon's shores in Limerick
handsomely written with an ailing stick
right across the illiterate mud
oblivious of the diurnal flood
No poem on Shannon's shores in Limerick
 
15

Good things come in halves
like nuts or sandwiches
or my life
half of it gone
maybe one half ahead

if I had twice the bed space I do now
it would be empty
that's why
offering half a bun
will sate the both of us

this half glass
full or empty
who cares?
you had some
you'll have some

How could this be a crisis?
 
In the cool, calm moments of clarity
I can see the dry desert land inside myself
its oases run thin, thirsty for your tears
these days, my tongue feels so dry of words
 
17

Orange fluffy cream afloat
on the upsidedown blue lagoon
the boyish wind hunts the curtain
and I wonder if a heart has a handle too
opened up so easily and let the world shine inside
it's a thought bathing in the golden Saturday morning
listening to the sound of sleep
 
18

In a slipping moment
a glass in million pieces
I grasp
dustpan, broom and glue stick
is not the way
to exorcise the demons
of a broken heart.
Anyway, good riddance,
the wine wouldn't have fixed as well.
 
19 - Controversial American Questions

Why do those behind bars not know about pubs in the Land of the Free?

Can you show your trust in God with something often used for bribery?

Would you call a gun wielding anti-abortionist a hypocrite?
 
Last edited:
Back
Top