November guest

on this chilly day hello
I greet you with a shiver
you’re wearing your black clothes
I’m wrapped in my dark thoughts
as we stare at each other
I hope you’re not too cold

in the hidden guard
of transparent walls
from afar I observe
your mournful grace

the air surrounds you with a foggy wait
and I feel your ache my stranger friend
this damp mist smothers every thought
and I hear no whisper nor call nor talk

but just another empty self-debate
of what if my black-clad chap
what if they forgot forsaken us
and still regardless we accept our fates
while perching on this wobbly branch



I see it coming

I saw you hiding crumpled in a corner yesterday
holding a precious tiny thorny sprout close to your chest
watering it with stormy water full of salt
your mouth repeating my fault my fault
your muscles like a cage tightened around your throat
you poor little bird I know
the shadows of the ancient stones stole your song
but your pain one day will cry out
and the howling space will crumble
and disperse the mist surrounding your eyes
and your hand will cut your fist
and you’ll stand


The Seaside: Day Seven

the last day before we go
the last fish to eat
the last picture to take
the last short trip to make
and see another new place
the last day to marvel at the sea
and its green blue grey
or whatever colors it decides to wear

I wish to stay as much as I want to go
I’m packing my clothes and all the stuff
to take them back where we belong


The Seaside: Day Six

today I won’t complain at all
this ship is taking me away
from the shore

the green waves oh the green
are splashing and the foam
is rolling behind
as we leave the trace

the blue wind oh the wind
is cooling my cheeks
and the sand under my feet
is soft and the seagulls are
screaming and flying above

still no Sun
but it’s fine
I’m fine


The Seaside: Day Four

it’s evening as I’m writing this
my head is spinning
and I’m sipping tea

today it rained again
and my shoes are soaked
oh boy the spinning
and I wonder
why the want to write
some lines for
each of these trippy days
perhaps to feel like
a real something
and make even more illusions for my head

today it rained
and then it didn’t
how poetic
I made new friends
so forgettable
their faces have already melted
on the spinning stove of
my sick brain

this non-poem is getting lengthy
so sorry for this state of myself
I just wanted to say it rained today
the waves were pretty and powerful
the Sun didn’t come along with them



The Seaside: Day Three

and we already don’t know
what to do and where to go
we decide to visit violence in its peaceful rest
torpedoes and ghosts haunting this coast
we reflect with all respect for the brave

and I wonder
should I feel a part of it
bear the pride and all the rest
as if I ever did anything
forgive me but I don’t

in the evening rain is dancing with wind
touching the ground with its long strings
it won’t change anytime soon or so they say
yet all I can think of are my wet feet
and how amazing they feel