Читать книгу: «Around A Word»

© Rick K. Reut, 2026

ISBN 978-5-0067-8281-5

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

 
A
R
A W O R D
U
N
D
 

AROUND
A
WORD

A COLLECTION
OF CYCLIC
VERSE

ABRIDGED VERSION

 
A
R
A W O R D
U
N
D
 

(TIME)

…as time flies fast — unless GOD cuts its wings.

But then time seems to simply start to run

out of space. Time sometimes only brings

slow-motion sighing from the setting sun.

Yes, time can heal, but time can also kill

like a wind blowing out candles. When a rain-

storm starts, you feel all you can feel until

you come to find out if it is in vain…

…as time flies fast — unless GOD cuts its wings. But then time seems to simply start to run out of space. Time sometimes only brings slow-motion sighing from the setting sun. Yes, time can heal, but time can also kill like a wind blowing out candles. When a rainstorm starts, you feel all you can feel until you come to find out if it is in vain…

January 2004

(THAT TIME)

…sharing the same emotion.

Almost each memory

of that time is a motion

picture of you and me…

…sharing the same emotion. Almost each memory of that time is a motion picture of you and me…

October 2004

(THIS PLACE)

…since your very birth.

You’ve tried to tell

if this place is hell

or heaven on earth…

…since your very birth. You’ve tried to tell if this place is hell or heaven on earth…

November 2004

(RAILROAD TRACK)

…moving from point A

to point B and back

to point A. You stay

on the railroad track…

…moving from point A to point B and back to point A. You stay on the railroad track…

April 2005

(AROUND THIS PLACE)

…of it. The sky

is wearing a dress

of darkness by

a house of glass,

stone and steel

somewhere around

this place you feel

in the background

silence that’s there

when no one’s aware…

…of it. The sky is wearing a dress of darkness by a house of glass, stone and steel somewhere around this place you feel in the background silence that’s there when no one’s aware…

June 2005

(WAY BACK)

…after the sunset came,

the sky turned red, then black.

Nothing appeared the same,

going all the way back

to when that summer began

to end. Once again…

…after the sunset came, the sky turned red, then black. Nothing appeared the same, going all the way back to when that summer began to end. Once again…

August 2005

(ONLY ONE)

…sure that GOD is

THE ONLY ONE

WHO can know this.

If time can run

out, can there be

an end of Time?

Or is Time free

of ending? I’m…

…sure that GOD is THE ONLY ONE WHO can know this. If time can run out, can there be an end of Time? Or is Time free of ending? I’m…

September 2005

(SPACE OF TIME)

…deep in the past.

It seems less tense

now. Few things last

when there’s no sense

in it. A lot

of words in a space

of time are lost

upon the face

of the earth. There

is almost no one

who’s left to stare

at a setting sun…

…deep in the past. It seems less tense now. Few things last when there’s no sense in it. A lot of words in a space of time are lost upon the face of the earth. There is almost no one who’s left to stare at a setting sun…

December 2005

(STILL SNOWING)

…into this time and place.

The snow isn’t addressed

to anyone except the past,

which leaves a ghostly trace

at present. Across the night,

a sign says “closed for repair”.

You wonder if there is a spare

life stashed out of sight.

White waves in the window sea

weave a world-wide web

of words you sometimes see

in their flow and ebb

when it snows. It is still

snowing, and, while it is,

the picture on the window sill

makes the whole world freeze…

…into this time and place. The snow isn’t addressed to anyone except the past, which leaves a ghostly trace at present. Across the night, a sign says “closed for repair”. You wonder if there is a spare life stashed out of sight. White waves in the window sea weave a world-wide web of words you sometimes see in their flow and ebb when it snows. It is still snowing, and, while it is, the picture on the window sill makes the whole world freeze…

February 2006

(BOTH WAYS)

…which sounds and smells like looks

can be deceptive to taste.

They differ in different books.

Many words go to waste.

The present becomes the past,

whereas the future is clear

only to GOD. Your last

chance to defeat your fear

may be right now. Or may-

be some other time. Regret

is of the past. One day

you may get what they get.

Pain and pleasure, of course,

are of the present, like joy.

Sorrow tries to destroy

everything that is, was

and will be. A night sky

speaks to an empty street.

Say hallo, then goodbye,

hoping that you will meet

again after another night.

You are getting ahead

of yourself. Out of sight,

you live in your own head

as if it was a room

or an entire block

of flats. Haunted by gloom,

you dwell on top of a clock

tower of ivory or

whatever you think it is

you can see in the freeze

frame of your mind. A door-

way leads both ways: outside

and inside. There’s another

doorway where you can hide,

getting farther and farther

away. Under the bruised

sky in the afterglow,

a multitude of unused

rain clouds crawl in slow

motion to turn on the black

coffee machine of the night

and then maybe come back

in coffee-black or milk-white…

…which sounds and smells like looks can be deceptive to taste. They differ in different books. Many words go to waste. The present becomes the past, whereas the future is clear only to GOD. Your last chance to defeat your fear may be right now. Or maybe some other time. Regret is of the past. One day you may get what they get. Pain and pleasure, of course, are of the present, like joy. Sorrow tries to destroy everything that is, was and will be. A night sky speaks to an empty street. Say hallo, then goodbye, hoping that you will meet again after another night. You are getting ahead of yourself. Out of sight, you live in your own head as if it was a room or an entire block of flats. Haunted by gloom, you dwell on top of a clock tower of ivory or whatever you think it is you can see in the freeze frame of your mind. A doorway leads both ways: outside and inside. There’s another doorway where you can hide, getting farther and farther away. Under the bruised sky in the afterglow, a multitude of unused rain clouds crawl in slow motion to turn on the black coffee machine of the night and then maybe come back in coffee-black or milk-white…

June 2006

(THROUGH YOUR HEAD)

…as the night starts to fall

like a cup full of cold

coffee or a lost soul

somebody has been told

about again. The street

circulates neon blood

from a place where you meet

yourself fighting a flood

of emotions. The thoughts

traveling through your head

look for new parking lots

of words that sound mad

even to you. Before

you can finally dare

go outside, the door

becomes an electric chair

of anticipation of

someone turning it on

and then turning it off.

Another day is gone…

…as the night starts to fall like a cup full of cold coffee or a lost soul somebody has been told about again. The street circulates neon blood from a place where you meet yourself fighting a flood of emotions. The thoughts traveling through your head look for new parking lots of words that sound mad even to you. Before you can finally dare go outside, the door becomes an electric chair of anticipation of someone turning it on and then turning it off. Another day is gone…

September 2006

(SEA OF SNOW)

…seeing a sea of snow.

It looks like a prophecy

of some kind. You slow

down your eyes to see

it become as clear as

a sea that’s totally calm.

It can be in a glass

of ice freezing the palm

of your hand on a beach

that looks like a backyard.

It seems out of reach,

but it’s still not that hard

to touch the face of the earth

hidden behind a mask

of snow. It’s giving birth

to what you fear to ask

about. What does it mean

to fear hearing a voice

that can never be seen?

It leaves you little choice

but to cross the skyline

that separates the past

from the future — a sign

of a present that’s passed.

Hear the sound of a fright

train of thoughts in your head

crossing your line of sight.

As this train goes mad,

it gets loaded with fear,

and that fear overwhelms

you. It is getting near

all the possible realms

you don’t want to go to,

trying to tell which one

is which out of too

many. In the long run,

they encompass the same

end of an empty street

that has a scary name.

It’s too hard to repeat

it, watching another night

freeze in the window frame.

You can hear that fright

train type your first name

on the railroad track,

making it easy to spell

it out all the way back

to the first farewell…

…seeing a sea of snow. It looks like a prophecy of some kind. You slow down your eyes to see it become as clear as a sea that’s totally calm. It can be in a glass of ice freezing the palm of your hand on a beach that looks like a backyard. It seems out of reach, but it’s still not that hard to touch the face of the earth hidden behind a mask of snow. It’s giving birth to what you fear to ask about. What does it mean to fear hearing a voice that can never be seen? It leaves you little choice but to cross the skyline that separates the past from the future — a sign of a present that’s passed. Hear the sound of a fright train of thoughts in your head crossing your line of sight. As this train goes mad, it gets loaded with fear, and that fear overwhelms you. It is getting near all the possible realms you don’t want to go to, trying to tell which one is which out of too many. In the long run, they encompass the same end of an empty street that has a scary name. It’s too hard to repeat it, watching another night freeze in the window frame. You can hear that fright train type your first name on the railroad track, making it easy to spell it out all the way back to the first farewell…

February 2007

(WITH TOO MANY MEMORIES)

…about. As long as there is

at least one letter or sound,

this world keeps turning around

but sometimes seems to freeze.

In the silence of the setting sun

and the sound of the rising wind,

it looks like the day has begun

to end and the night to win

its time in the window frame.

Your mind seems to be set

to take part in a game

of window chess on a flat

screen. Mirrored by every pane,

trace the railroad track

to the memory lane

that’s bound to take you back.

The moon is full like a glass

of milk, or empty like

any lonely man’s life

that is starting to pass.

There seems to be no

one here or out there

standing in the falling snow

that keeps dyeing the air

white. Fading into empty space,

the river is covered with mist.

It erases the face

of somebody you missed

by a minute when you

were crossing that avenue

in the middle of Minsk.

Your heart keeps breaking like

the dawn of the day before

you met someone whose life

meant to you even more

than your own, let alone

all the places and times

you have seen on your phone,

taking pictures of crimes

and crime scenes full of nights

killing days and then days

killing nights with the lights

of too many replays.

Some then turn into dust

drawings on melted sand

for one more present passed

to the past by the hand

of the clock that can’t tell

the time from its own face,

or from a farewell

when more time floods this place

like a few years ago.

You barely recall when it

happened but think you’d know

if you returned to that street

and rented a room for two

nights and another day

to stay together with too

many memories. Stay

as long as at least one word

at the crossroads of night

and day seems to be heard

and said to be right to write…

…about. As long as there is at least one letter or sound, this world keeps turning around but sometimes seems to freeze. In the silence of the setting sun and the sound of the rising wind, it looks like the day has begun to end and the night to win its time in the window frame. Your mind seems to be set to take part in a game of window chess on a flat screen. Mirrored by every pane, trace the railroad track to the memory lane that’s bound to take you back. The moon is full like a glass of milk, or empty like any lonely man’s life that is starting to pass. There seems to be no one here or out there standing in the falling snow that keeps dyeing the air white. Fading into empty space, the river is covered with mist. It erases the face of somebody you missed by a minute when you were crossing that avenue in the middle of Minsk. Your heart keeps breaking like the dawn of the day before you met someone whose life meant to you even more than your own, let alone all the places and times you have seen on your phone, taking pictures of crimes and crime scenes full of nights killing days and then days killing nights with the lights of too many replays. Some then turn into dust drawings on melted sand for one more present passed to the past by the hand of the clock that can’t tell the time from its own face, or from a farewell when more time floods this place like a few years ago. You barely recall when it happened but think you’d know if you returned to that street and rented a room for two nights and another day to stay together with too many memories. Stay as long as at least one word at the crossroads of night and day seems to be heard and said to be right to write…

March 2007

(BEHIND THE BLINDS)

…behind a parking lot

of words meaning new things.

There is a shadow thought

starting to spread its wings

in your head. It reminds

you of a memory

you once thought you were free

from, hiding behind the blinds

that separate your past

from your present. The room

is being filled with gloom

you keep trying your best

to escape. Walk up to

the window and watch the night

swallow the street that’s too

long not to slip out of sight…

…behind a parking lot of words meaning new things. There is a shadow thought starting to spread its wings in your head. It reminds you of a memory you once thought you were free from, hiding behind the blinds that separate your past from your present. The room is being filled with gloom you keep trying your best to escape. Walk up to the window and watch the night swallow the street that’s too long not to slip out of sight…

May 2007

(NUMBER OF WORDS)

…showing a sparkly neck-

lace of a city night:

everything is ink-black

or writing-paper-white.

Since time out of mind,

minds have run out of time.

You see a road unwind

like a line to a rhyme

with a number of words

you’ve been trying to get

out of your head. It works

just like an old TV set…

…showing a sparkly necklace of a city night: everything is ink-black or writing-paper-white. Since time out of mind, minds have run out of time. You see a road unwind like a line to a rhyme with a number of words you’ve been trying to get out of your head. It works just like an old TV set…

June 2007

(SOMEWHERE OUT OF SIGHT)

…to try to start anew

and maybe make some sense

out of what you knew

when you had your first chance

to see the shooting scars

on the face of the night

sky. You stare at the stars

somewhere out of sight.

The TV set of your mind

is heard inside your head,

making you push the rewind

button on the half-mad

recorder of your memory.

You try to put it on pause

where you once were me,

though I’m not sure I was

there at all. Just play

it back for me one more

time. Begin with the day

before the night before

there was nothing on

your mind except that fear

swallowing you at dawn.

Somewhere around here,

pictures on window panes

are painted with rainy days’

watercolors. It rains

in the vanishing rays

of the sun. One more night

changes the window view,

wiping it out of sight.

I’m not sure I’m you

anymore. Heavy rain

seems lighter than heavy wind.

You look at the window pane,

wondering who will win

the fight between night and day

if you can find a way…

…to try to start anew and maybe make some sense out of what you knew when you had your first chance to see the shooting scars on the face of the night sky. You stare at the stars somewhere out of sight. The TV set of your mind is heard inside your head, making you push the rewind button on the half-mad recorder of your memory. You try to put it on pause where you once were me, though I’m not sure I was there at all. Just play it back for me one more time. Begin with the day before the night before there was nothing on your mind except that fear swallowing you at dawn. Somewhere around here, pictures on window panes are painted with rainy days’ watercolors. It rains in the vanishing rays of the sun. One more night changes the window view, wiping it out of sight. I’m not sure I’m you anymore. Heavy rain seems lighter than heavy wind. You look at the window pane, wondering who will win the fight between night and day if you can find a way…

July 2007

(ALMOST THE SAME)

…Home to GOD. As the dust

settles, some tear gas

gets in your eyes. The past

is in a looking glass

of water squeezed from a rain-

coat on a washing line.

The sky seems to remain

almost the same, looking like

an upside-down sea

or an enormous wall

on which you often see

the sun set. Shadows fall,

followed by one more night

wearing mourning-black

until the morning light.

Everything must come back…

…Home to GOD. As the dust settles, some tear gas gets in your eyes. The past is in a looking glass of water squeezed from a raincoat on a washing line. The sky seems to remain almost the same, looking like an upside-down sea or an enormous wall on which you often see the sun set. Shadows fall, followed by one more night wearing mourning-black until the morning light. Everything must come back…

August 2007

(WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY)

…to any looking glass

with a couple of eyes

scanning a tear gas

chamber where someone cries

almost just like a rain-

coat on a cold, black night,

catching another train

of thoughts you want to write

down on a paper sheet.

It can feel like a leaf

from a tree on a street

you can barely leave

by just walking away

from what you want to say…

…to any looking glass with a couple of eyes scanning a tear gas chamber where someone cries almost just like a raincoat on a cold, black night, catching another train of thoughts you want to write down on a paper sheet. It can feel like a leaf from a tree on a street you can barely leave by just walking away from what you want to say…

September 2007

(THROUGH THE MORNING MIST)

…what looks like another lot

of waves licking the coast-

line when a weird thought

goes through your mind like a ghost

ship through the morning mist.

Sailing across the grey

emptiness from the east

before the break of day,

there is something you’ve got

in you that makes you cry.

Seeking the Face of GOD,

you look up at the sky

while a shower of leaves

mixes with a cold rain

sweeping the street. It leaves

tracks on the window pane.

Many leaves look like books’

pages without a word

turned by the wind. It looks

like there is a whole world

wedged in the window frame

of your mystified mind.

You seem to be in the same

state you so often find

and lose yourself in. Today,

you’re being lost and found

again. Time runs away,

and it’s hard to turn it around…

…what looks like another lot of waves licking the coastline when a weird thought goes through your mind like a ghost ship through the morning mist. Sailing across the grey emptiness from the east before the break of day, there is something you’ve got in you that makes you cry. Seeking the Face of GOD, you look up at the sky while a shower of leaves mixes with a cold rain sweeping the street. It leaves tracks on the window pane. Many leaves look like books’ pages without a word turned by the wind. It looks like there is a whole world wedged in the window frame of your mystified mind. You seem to be in the same state you so often find and lose yourself in. Today, you’re being lost and found again. Time runs away, and it’s hard to turn it around…

October 2007

(ONE MORE INTERSTATE)

…one more interstate

of your mind, you wait

alone by the wind-

ow. Though you try,

you never win.

Tears run dry

till nothing’s left

to cry with. You let

your looking glass

have more tear gas.

But the nearest tear

gas station’s not here,

and it’s hard to reach

it, not knowing which

way to go. You’re not

well: the vacant lot

behind the pane

drives you insane

as winter trees

begin to freeze

under a sheet

of snow. The street

is full of day-

dreams you can play

back in the dark.

By the main park,

you hear a shout

across the road.

You write about

it. But you wrote

about it before

(you barely know

when or what for).

A long time ago.

Still, you hope to come

back to it some-

day. Trying to find

a way to rewind…

…one more interstate of your mind, you wait alone by the window. Though you try, you never win. Tears run dry till nothing’s left to cry with. You let your looking glass have more tear gas. But the nearest tear gas station’s not here, and it’s hard to reach it, not knowing which way to go. You’re not well: the vacant lot behind the pane drives you insane as winter trees begin to freeze under a sheet of snow. The street is full of daydreams you can play back in the dark. By the main park, you hear a shout across the road. You write about it. But you wrote about it before (you barely know when or what for). It was long ago. Still, you hope to come back to it someday. Trying to find a way to rewind…

January 2008

(AFTER AN AFTERGLOW)

…on the corner of day

and the following night.

There are things one can say

that aren’t easy to write.

Staring at the snow-

pregnant clouds in the sky

after an afterglow,

sometimes one can see dry

autumn leaves in the wind.

Like sheets, torn from a tree,

they turn against their will

(almost like you and me),

running out of time,

let alone all alone luck.

You said I’m not your type,

and suddenly I was stuck…

…on the corner of day and the following night. There are things one can say that aren’t easy to write. Staring at the snow-pregnant clouds in the sky after an afterglow, sometimes one can see dry autumn leaves in the wind. Like sheets, torn from a tree, they turn against their will (almost like you and me), running out of time, let alone all their luck. You said I’m not your type, and suddenly I was stuck…

February 2008

(UNUTTERED WORDS)

…unuttered words

that stick to things

between two worlds.

One of them brings

out your soul —

or what is left

of it. You stroll

along the left

side of the street

into the heart

of a quite sweet

but bitter part

of your own past.

You walk into

the future past

the present two

days after you

return with new…

…unuttered words that stick to things between two worlds. One of them brings out your soul — or what is left of it. You stroll along the left side of the street into the heart of a quite sweet but bitter part of your own past. You walk into the future past the present two days after you return with new…

March 2008

(CHAMBER MAID)

…covered with softer snow-

white sheets from paperback

bookstores. You get to know

plenty of things in black

and white while watching a tear

gas chamber maid you made

friends with out of fear.

Having slipped out of the shade

she is in, shadows shake,

copying bare trees

in the wind. Wide awake,

they striptease for green leaves.

Someone sips from your cup

of tears. Your evening tea

and night coffee could be

cold seawater. You stop

and stare at the fireflies

that freeze in a window frame

of mind. Under sad skies,

they seem to stay the same —

as clouds line up like rain-

coats in a clothing store.

For a while, they remain

there. Just like before,

you come in touch with the dark-

ness of the night that feels

almost as warm as a stark-

naked woman in heels…

…covered with softer snow-white sheets from paperback bookstores. You get to know plenty of things in black and white while watching a tear gas chamber maid you made friends with out of fear. Having slipped out of the shade she is in, shadows shake, copying bare trees in the wind. Wide awake, they striptease for green leaves. Someone sips from your cup of tears. Your evening tea and night coffee could be cold seawater. You stop and stare at the fireflies that freeze in a window frame of mind. Under sad skies, they seem to stay the same — as clouds line up like raincoats in a clothing store. For a while, they remain there. Just like before, you come in touch with the darkness of the night that feels almost as warm as a stark-naked woman in heels…

April 2008

(TIME BOMB)

…where you hear the wind.

It blows up like a time

bomb, obeying the Will

of GOD. It sounds sublime

but begins to feel cold

despite the summer heat

waves still washing the gold

and silver of the night street…

…where you hear the wind. It blows up like a time bomb, obeying the Will of GOD. It sounds sublime but begins to feel cold despite the summer heat waves still washing the gold and silver of the night street…

June 2008

(IN A LOOKING GLASS)

…out in search of change,

new scenery and, perhaps,

texture of city maps

studied lately like strange

scripts. In a looking glass,

you sometimes see the face

value of empty space

at a random tear gas

station. You look inside

and behold a hot tear

gas chamber maid. In fear,

you think you’d better hide

while she makes your bed-

room door open at night,

throwing a beam of light

on what looks like a dead-

end street still sinking deep

into a sea of sleep.

Spilled like a glass of wine,

it drips onto the ground,

making the silence sound

like something you want to wipe…

…out in search of change, new scenery and, perhaps, texture of city maps studied lately like strange scripts. In a looking glass, you sometimes see the face value of empty space at a random tear gas station. You look inside and behold a hot tear gas chamber maid. In fear, you think you’d better hide while she makes your bedroom door open at night, throwing a beam of light on what looks like a dead-end street still sinking deep into a sea of sleep. Spilled like a glass of wine, it drips onto the ground, making the silence sound like something you want to wipe…

August 2008

(HIDING FROM GOD)

…WHO knows all there is to know.

Pages of autumn snow

are being turned in slow

motion. While you look

at them, the picture book

of the street tells you that

it’s not easy to get

to the opposite side

of whatever you hide

from yourself. It’s almost

like trying to hide from a ghost

haunting you. Hiding from

yourself in any form

is hard. But it is not

as hard as hiding from GOD…

…WHO knows all there is to know. Pages of autumn snow are being turned in slow motion. While you look at them, the picture book of the street tells you that it’s not easy to get to the opposite side of whatever you hide from yourself. It’s almost like trying to hide from a ghost haunting you. Hiding from yourself in any form is hard. But it is not as hard as hiding from GOD…

November 2008

(IN A CIRCLE OF TIME)

…if you want to go on

walking through a white wall.

The year is almost gone.

Winter follows the fall

in a circle of time.

There is plenty of space

on the paling face

of the earth glazed with rime…

…if you want to go on walking through a white wall. The year is almost gone. Winter follows the fall in a circle of time. There is plenty of space on the paling face of the earth glazed with rime…

December 2008

(MINSK AVENUE)

…who then said a lot of words

but not a single thing

about how each silver ring

of smoke you exhale works.

The sad sky has put on

another long raincoat

where the day once wrote

all the words that are gone

now. The clouds give way to

the color of a new moon,

pouring pensive mood

that tears one into two

roads covered either with snow

or a thick layer of dust.

You live deep in the past

indefinite tense and show

up in the present like

a ghost rattling a chain

of thoughts attached to my brain.

It looks like a yellow line

around a scene of crime,

which one wouldn’t commit

for any reason. Rime

covers another street

in a totally different state

of mind. It keeps getting late.

The city is falling asleep.

There is no one around.

The wind is starting to sweep

another deserted playground

where no one wants to play

back the film of the night

shadows that often stay

out. Like black and white

pictures of smiles on

the full lips of the moon,

they’re going to last till dawn

erases them. Quite soon,

this month may be over and

another month may start

and last to the very end

of this time in the heart

of the city. Like my

heart, it beats on a train

of memories rushing by

a wavering window pane

on that Minsk avenue

where I first met you…

…who then said a lot of words but not a single thing about how each silver ring of smoke you exhale works. The sad sky has put on another long raincoat where the day once wrote all the words that are gone now. The clouds give way to the color of a new moon, pouring pensive mood that tears one into two roads covered either with snow or a thick layer of dust. You live deep in the past indefinite tense and show up in the present like a ghost rattling a chain of thoughts attached to my brain. It looks like a yellow line around a scene of crime, which one wouldn’t commit for any reason. Rime covers another street in a totally different state of mind. It keeps getting late. The city is falling asleep. There is no one around. The wind is starting to sweep another deserted playground where no one wants to play back the film of the night shadows that often stay out. Like black and white pictures of smiles on the full lips of the moon, they’re going to last till dawn erases them. Quite soon, this month may be over and another month may start and last to the very end of this time in the heart of the city. Like my heart, it beats on a train of memories rushing by a wavering window pane on that Minsk avenue where I first met you…

February 2009

(SOMEONE LIKE YOU)

…with it. Another day

is starting to slip away.

Can you still hear me

at least in your memory?

I talk to myself and to

you or someone like you.

I talk to myself about three

times a day. Planting a tree

of that knowledge, I grow

food for thought on this snow-

white sheet of paper. Can

I ever become a man

of letters? Sometimes I wage

wars of words on a page

of someone’s book. I still

sit by the window sill,

listening to the door-

bell not ring anymore.

As I stare at the wall,

I wait for the night to fall

for you. In the silence of

the evening, I fall in love…

…with it. Another day is starting to slip away. Can you still hear me at least in your memory? I talk to myself and to you or someone like you. I talk to myself about three times a day. Planting a tree of that knowledge, I grow food for thought on this snow-white sheet of paper. Can I ever become a man of letters? Sometimes I wage wars of words on a page of someone’s book. I still sit by the window sill, listening to the doorbell not ring anymore. As I stare at the wall, I wait for the night to fall for you. In the silence of the evening, I fall in love…

March 2009

(SEVERAL SLEEPY STREETS)

…where these sleepy streets

make you break into bits

and pieces of a jigsaw-

puzzled look you once saw

out of a looking glass

of shame. It wouldn’t pass

out of mind or out

of time. Shadows of doubt

seem to fall on your face.

You start to stare into space

rolling outside the glass

window of an empty bus,

though there’s no real need

to see the city bleed

through the cracks in the wall-

paper sky. In the fall

of the rain, lightning splits

several sleepy streets

into numerous parts.

Almost like broken hearts,

they paint this picture with

the pain of a wild wind

that still howls outside.

Looking for places to hide,

you try your best to forget

your fear at least for that

moment. You want to throw

it out of your head and know

a little less than you do.

You want to sleep more to

think less. You seem to make

another massive mistake

every time you begin

to think of something between

splinters of shattered glass

dreams that used to be us…

…where these sleepy streets make you break into bits and pieces of a jigsaw-puzzled look you once saw out of a looking glass of shame. It wouldn’t pass out of mind or out of time. Shadows of doubt seem to fall on your face. You start to stare into space rolling outside the glass window of an empty bus, though there’s no real need to see the city bleed through the cracks in the wallpaper sky. In the fall of the rain, lightning splits several sleepy streets into numerous parts. Almost like broken hearts, they paint this picture with the pain of a wild wind that still howls outside. Looking for places to hide, you try your best to forget your fear at least for that moment. You want to throw it out of your head and know a little less than you do. You want to sleep more to think less. You seem to make another massive mistake every time you begin to think of something between splinters of shattered glass dreams that used to be us…

April 2009

(THE TOWN OF YOUR MIND)

…who’ll tell you all

about the Whole

Wide World in One

Word of THE ONE.

The wind blows in your face

as you walk through this place

to that time in the town

of your mind. Down

or up the street,

you hope to meet

a Herald from

GOD in human form…

…who’ll tell you all about the Whole Wide World in One Word of THE ONE. The wind blows in your face as you walk through this place to that time in the town of your mind. Down or up the street, you hope to meet a Herald from GOD in human form…

May 2009

(STARING AT THE DAWN)

…as you go on and on

and on, staring at the dawn

through a pair of sun-

glasses. You are someone

who is used to having lots

of highly unusual thoughts

with every attempt to find

a piece of the peace of mind

you have been looking for

since you started this war

of words no one can win

in the end. As the wind

strengthens, the rain seems hard

enough to break your heart,

although it may be made of

what appears to be love

with an admixture of hate.

When you go on a date

with yourself, you may like

to think that you live your life

as if it was some strange word,

which no one has ever heard

being said or has seen

written. Sometimes you seem

like you don’t even exist.

You are just like a twist

of time turning through space.

You seem to know your place,

which is not here, but not

there either. You’ve got

no place to go and no

place to stay since you know

no one and no one knows

you. You’ve never been close

to anyone. No one has

ever been close to you as

someone who wants to know you.

Now you think that you knew

it when you thought you were free.

You feel like a memory

everyone wants to forget

as soon as they see you at

the other end of the way

home. At the break of day

in the middle of June,

the wind whistles its tune

outside the window again.

It looks like it’s going to rain

harder than yesterday. It

may flood the entire street

you walk alone to hear

something that feels like a tear

gas bomb begin to explode

inside you. There is a load

on your mind in the shape

of a videotape

recording. It’s a tough time

you don’t even want to rhyme

about. Trying to run away

from yourself, you start to play

back the past in your head

and drive yourself as mad

as the fastest race car,

hoping it won’t go too far…

…as you go on and on and on, staring at the dawn through a pair of sunglasses. You are someone who is used to having lots of highly unusual thoughts with every attempt to find a piece of the peace of mind you have been looking for since you started this war of words no one can win in the end. As the wind strengthens, the rain seems hard enough to break your heart, although it may be made of what appears to be love with an admixture of hate. When you go on a date with yourself, you may like to think that you live your life as if it was some strange word, which no one has ever heard being said or has seen written. Sometimes you seem like you don’t even exist. You are just like a twist of time turning through space. You seem to know your place, which is not here, but not there either. You’ve got no place to go and no place to stay since you know no one and no one knows you. You’ve never been close to anyone. No one has ever been close to you as someone who wants to know you. Now you think that you knew it when you thought you were free. You feel like a memory everyone wants to forget as soon as they see you at the other end of the way home. At the break of day in the middle of June, the wind whistles its tune outside the window again. It looks like it’s going to rain harder than yesterday. It may flood the entire street you walk alone to hear something that feels like a tear gas bomb begin to explode inside you. There is a load on your mind in the shape of a videotape recording. It’s a tough time you don’t even want to rhyme about. Trying to run away from yourself, you start to play back the past in your head and drive yourself as mad as the fastest race car, hoping it won’t go too far…

June 2009

(IN MY HEAD)

…like rain on a sunny day.

I feel like I don’t belong

here. I have to say

it in a foreign tongue,

knowing that it’s not mine —

like any language on earth.

I try to write this line,

hoping that it is worth

something. Then, after all

that’s been written and said,

I look up at the wall

of the sky in my head…

…like rain on a sunny day. I feel like I don’t belong here. I have to say it in a foreign tongue, knowing that it’s not mine — like any language on earth. I try to write this line, hoping that it is worth something. Then, after all that’s been written and said, I look up at the wall of the sky in my head…

August 2009

(EVERYWHERE)

…everywhere. It takes two

people to make a third.

It takes one person to

write every single word

that somebody has on

his mind. It doesn’t take

more than a break of dawn

to see that you are awake

and want to go back to sleep.

It takes one moment of

existence to want to keep

looking for GOD’s True Love…

…everywhere. It takes two people to make a third. It takes one person to write every single word that somebody has on his mind. It doesn’t take more than a break of dawn to see that you are awake and want to go back to sleep. It takes one moment of existence to want to keep looking for GOD’s True Love…

September 2009

(TO THE PAST)

…to the past, turning cold

like a too seldom told

story out of a sweet

dream. It is incomplete

and almost as insane.

Dark wind drives a big rain

cloud that looks like a car

speeding towards a star

sign. It is your star sign.

You stare at the skyline

and start to feel dizzy like

someone who fell off a bike,

leaving a long, bloody track.

It leads all the way back…

…to the past, turning cold like a too seldom told story out of a sweet dream. It is incomplete and almost as insane. Dark wind drives a big rain cloud that looks like a car speeding towards a star sign. It is your star sign. You stare at the skyline and start to feel dizzy like someone who fell off a bike, leaving a long, bloody track. It leads all the way back…

October 2009

(OF ONE)

…for centuries.

Hours stretch in-

to days that freeze

somewhere between

words as they grow

upon a sheet

of one more snow-

white paper street

like mushrooms or

umbrellas in

the rain before

they can be seen

out of sight

and heard out of

earshot. Right

before your love

turns into hate

and hate turns back

into love late

at night, a black

hole in the wall-

paper is pierced

with stars that fall

and rest in peace…

…for centuries. Hours stretch into days that freeze somewhere between words as they grow upon a sheet of one more snow-white paper street like mushrooms or umbrellas in the rain before they can be seen out of sight and heard out of earshot. Right before your love turns into hate and hate turns back into love late at night, a black hole in the wallpaper is pierced with stars that fall and rest in peace…

January 2010

(SHEETS)

…also known as snow-

white sheets

of paper. You know

these streets

like the back of your hand.

But the back

of your hand starts to blend

with the black

glove of the night,

leaving no

prints on the white

sheets of snow…

…also known as snow-white sheets of paper. You know these streets like the back of your hand. But the back of your hand starts to blend with the black glove of the night, leaving no prints on the white sheets of snow…

February 2010

(ONE SECOND BEFORE THE WHOLE)

…there has to be some

way to cancel the curse

of those who fear the Sun

could set the Universe

on fire. Without light,

there can be no shade,

and vice versa. The night

slowly begins to fade

out on an empty street

corner. Like a brick wall,

everything seems complete

one second before the Whole

World turns around and

comes to an end. In the end…

…there has to be some way to cancel the curse of those who fear the Sun could set the Universe on fire. Without light, there can be no shade, and vice versa. The night slowly begins to fade out on an empty street corner. Like a brick wall, everything seems complete one second before the Whole World turns around and comes to an end. In the end…

March 2010

(WORD ORDER OF THINGS)

…again. Snow-white

sails melt on

the skyline. The night

bleeds out at dawn

and dies with the first

rays of the sun.

It quenches the thirst

of rivers run

drier than your

mouth when you

vanish before

your own new

image. You must

have seen a lot

back in the past.

Now you have got

nothing to lose

except your blues.

Trying to find

your way back in-

side, you don’t mind

being unseen.

But you don’t like

being unheard

of as your life

is in the word

order of things

that cannot be

touched. Like the wings

of your memory,

they fly back to

the distant past

when years took

longer to last.

It is a strange

world you can’t change

no matter how hard

you try. Its heart

is now as cold

as stone. It’s sold…

…again. Snow-white sails melt on the skyline. The night bleeds out at dawn and dies with the first rays of the sun. It quenches the thirst of rivers run drier than your mouth when you vanish before your own new image. You must have seen a lot back in the past. Now you have got nothing to lose except your blues. Trying to find your way back inside, you don’t mind being unseen. But you don’t like being unheard of as your life is in the word order of things that cannot be touched. Like the wings of your memory, they fly back to the distant past when years took longer to last. It is a strange world you can’t change no matter how hard you try. Its heart is now as cold as stone. It’s sold…

April 2010

(LEAF IN THE WIND)

…the sun sets and the time

pauses in a pantomime

like an old black and white

photograph of the night

in the window. You dream

of snow that tastes like cream.

In the light of a moon-

shaped plate, a silver spoon

mixes sugar and salt

inside your restless soul.

Each time you lose control

over the steering wheel

of your life, you may feel

as helpless as a torn leaf

in the wind. For a brief

moment, your memory

lane turns into a free-

way of living without regret

or fear. Inside your head…

…the sun sets and the time pauses in a pantomime like an old black and white photograph of the night in the window. You dream of snow that tastes like cream. In the light of a moon-shaped plate, a silver spoon mixes sugar and salt inside your restless soul. Each time you lose control over the steering wheel of your life, you may feel as helpless as a torn leaf in the wind. For a brief moment, your memory lane turns into a freeway of living without regret or fear. Inside your head…

October 2010

(IN YOUR ROOM)

…from the night.

Out of sight

in your room,

shadows loom

and then fall

from the wall

like dry leaves

from the trees

in the park.

In the dark,

a light breaks

up a lake’s

looking glass.

Broken grass

blades stick in-

to the skin

of a hill,

and you feel

all its pain

as the rain

licks the street

with your feet

still on it.

Bit by bit,

you begin

to unspin

every line

of each fine

work of art

in your heart

when things fall

apart. All

you still want

now is what

you have not

really got…

…from the night. Out of sight in your room, shadows loom and then fall from the wall like dry leaves from the trees in the park. In the dark, a light breaks up a lake’s looking glass. Broken grass blades stick into the skin of a hill, and you feel all its pain as the rain licks the street with your feet still on it. Bit by bit, you begin to unspin every line of each fine work of art in your heart when things fall apart. All you still want now is what you have not really got…

November 2010

(SO DOES THE SNOW)

…now, though. The snow

covers the pane.

The town starts to slow

down like a train

of thoughts at a station.

No one seems to know

the exact destination

of every snow-

flake. While I

sit at my desk,

time passes by

what looks like a mask

on the face of the earth.

This time should stay

till the next birth

cycle. The day

breaks into bits

of memory

like all the streets

we once felt free

on. Windows freeze

in frames. It looks

like all the trees

are from picture books.

So does the snow.

It shines like a sheet

of paper. No

one writes on it…

…now, though. The snow covers the pane. The town starts to slow down like a train of thoughts at a station. No one seems to know the exact destination of every snowflake. While I sit at my desk, time passes by what looks like a mask on the face of the earth. This time should stay till the next birth cycle. The day breaks into bits of memory like all the streets we once felt free on. Windows freeze in frames. It looks like all the trees are from picture books. So does the snow. It shines like a sheet of paper. No one writes on it…

December 2010

(THIS MONTH OF MARCH)

…the sun when it’s too bright.

The moon is on like a night-

light. In this month of March,

snow is as white as starch

on the sheets of your bed

where you feel like a dead

man sleeping all day and all

night, facing a whitewashed wall.

Whenever you turn, each spring

under you starts to sing

the steel song of a swallow

cutting a hole in the hollow

air. There is too much noise

around, and it destroys

the sacred harmony of

silence. GOD switches off…

…the sun when it’s too bright. The moon is on like a nightlight. In this month of March, snow is as white as starch on the sheets of your bed where you feel like a dead man sleeping all day and all night, facing a whitewashed wall. Whenever you turn, each spring under you starts to sing the steel song of a swallow cutting a hole in the hollow air. There is too much noise around, and it destroys the sacred harmony of silence. GOD switches off…

March 2011

(BEHIND EVERY DOOR)

…that tends to hide from the sun,

seeking the end of the day,

which is about to run

out of light on the way

to tomorrow. Few eyes

see and few ears hear

the truth. Plenty of lies

swarm around in fear.

In the night, fear waits

deep in the dark behind

every door. It inflates

like a balloon on your mind.

Fear tears through the air

just like a poisoned dart.

It’s almost everywhere,

even in abstract art

galleries. It’s on walls

like cobwebs. Fear hides

in emergency calls.

It is felt on both sides

of any dead-end street,

stalking you to your place.

It feels like it will slit

your throat if you see its face…

…that tends to hide from the sun, seeking the end of the day, which is about to run out of light on the way to tomorrow. Few eyes see and few ears hear the truth. Plenty of lies swarm around in fear. In the night, fear waits deep in the dark behind every door. It inflates like a balloon on your mind. Fear tears through the air just like a poisoned dart. It’s almost everywhere, even in abstract art galleries. It’s on walls like cobwebs. Fear hides in emergency calls. It is felt on both sides of any dead-end street, stalking you to your place. It feels like it will slit your throat if you see its face…

May 2011

(ONCE AGAIN)

…that is turned upside down

once again. You would like

to move to a different town

and start another life

there. It’s like you’re still

looking for a place to go

to where time doesn’t kill

those who don’t want to slow

down their dreams. It eats

young men for dinner and old

men for breakfast. Like sweets.

At least that’s what you’re told.

Out in the dark streets,

the rain is getting as hard

as the ground it falls on

as it pours from your heart

all night till the next dawn…

…that is turned upside down once again. You would like to move to a different town and start another life there. It’s like you’re still looking for a place to go to where time doesn’t kill those who don’t want to slow down their dreams. It eats young men for dinner and old men for breakfast. Like sweets. At least that’s what you’re told. Out in the dark streets, the rain is getting as hard as the ground it falls on as it pours from your heart all night till the next dawn breaks…

June 2011

(RECORDER OF WORDS)

…a way to a place that looks

like a pile of books.

Being encrusted with gold

and silver city lights,

the night is still too cold

compared to other nights.

It looks like we all want

the same thing. We just put

it into different words

that do not always suit

us. You are a recorder

of words haunting your mind.

You keep changing their order

in an attempt to find…

…a way to a place that looks like a pile of books. Being encrusted with gold and silver city lights, the night is still too cold compared to other nights. It looks like we all want the same thing. We just put it into different words that do not always suit us. You are a recorder of words haunting your mind. You keep changing their order in an attempt to find…

July 2011

(HARD RAINS)

…from when it rains. It

looks like it may not quit

very soon. Rainy fall

is what they sometimes call

this time around this

place where hard rains kiss

summers goodbye. The heart-

land is hard to depart…

…from when it rains. It looks like it may not quit very soon. Rainy fall is what they sometimes call this time around this place where hard rains kiss summers goodbye. The heartland is hard to depart…

September 2011

(TROUBLED MIND)

…of thoughts and lost memories,

it travels from time to time.

Looking for a new rhyme

among the metallic trees,

you hear a familiar tune

recorded on a full moon

night that can take you back

there. Sometimes you find

the same railroad track

crossing your troubled mind.

Your heart is not in your chest.

It is miles away —

deep in the distant past

where you wish to stay

because you want to last

forever, feeling no pain.

It beats faster for fear

that one day you may hear

it stop. Like a subway train…

…of thoughts and lost memories, it travels from time to time. Looking for a new rhyme among the metallic trees, you hear a familiar tune recorded on a full moon night that can take you back there. Sometimes you find the same railroad track crossing your troubled mind. Your heart is not in your chest. It is miles away — deep in the distant past where you wish to stay because you want to last forever, feeling no pain. It beats faster for fear that one day you may hear it stop. Like a subway train…

October 2011

(WINTER WIND)

…which are being wiped with

a wave of winter wind.

After so many days of rain,

the sky is painted blue

once again. Once again,

I am talking to you

like that wind in the trees

under the evening sun.

They are starting to freeze

as it sets. On the run

from images in my head,

I’m in a moody frame

of mind. It has a name,

but it is way too sad

to say it. Turning away

from yet another day,

for all I know, your eyes

may now be stars in the skies…

…which are being wiped with a wave of winter wind. After so many days of rain, the sky is painted blue once again. Once again, I am talking to you like that wind in the trees under the evening sun. They are starting to freeze as it sets. On the run from images in my head, I’m in a moody frame of mind. It has a name, but it is way too sad to say it. Turning away from yet another day, for all I know, your eyes may now be stars in the skies…

December 2011

(FREEZE FRAMES)

…of snow, the windows turn

into freeze frames. Ice-cold

winds can easily burn

anyone who is bold

enough to go outside

and take a walk along

an empty street. Some tried,

but then something went wrong

as they were wading through

the emptiness at the cross-

roads of regret for the true

meaning of the word “loss”.

It keeps changing each day

from rainy to sunny and back.

Thus it changes the way

some see things as they track

and even write them down.

Around this quiet night town…

…of snow, the windows turn into freeze frames. Ice-cold winds can easily burn anyone who is bold enough to go outside and take a walk along an empty street. Some tried, but then something went wrong as they were wading through the emptiness at the crossroads of regret for the true meaning of the word “loss”. It keeps changing each day from rainy to sunny and back. Thus it changes the way some see things as they track and even write them down. Around this quiet night town…

January 2012

(ANOTHER ONE)

…which may soon start to melt

along with every ice cream.

You may feel what you felt

when you knew that your dream

couldn’t come true. Time broke

it to you with other news.

Your life feels like a joke,

but you can hardly choose

another one like a coat

in a store. It is Fate

that has the deciding vote.

Only GOD knows how late

or early it is to know

what’s hiding behind the snow…

…which may soon start to melt along with every ice cream. You may feel what you felt when you knew that your dream couldn’t come true. Time broke it to you with other news. Your life feels like a joke, but you can hardly choose another one like a coat in a store. It is Fate that has the deciding vote. Only GOD knows how late or early it is to know what’s hiding behind the snow…

February 2012

(SOMETIMES)

…again. Sometimes my mind

turns into a time machine.

As I push the rewind

button, places I’ve been

to flash before my eyes.

Some remain. Some pass.

Sometimes some empty skies

may appear almost as

blank as a screen a few

seconds before a show

starts. I want to see you,

even though I don’t I know

what to say if we meet

as we go our ways

along a Dead-End Street

many call Life these days…

…again. Sometimes my mind turns into a time machine. As I push the rewind button, places I’ve been to flash before my eyes. Some remain. Some pass. Sometimes some empty skies may appear almost as blank as a screen a few seconds before a show starts. I want to see you, even though I don’t I know what to say if we meet as we go our ways along a Dead-End Street many call Life these days…

March 2012

(HIGHER AND HIGHER)

…drink as the heat keeps rising

higher, higher and higher.

Sizzling like a frying pan,

the highway on the horizon

appears to be on fire.

Every woman and man

reckless enough to stroll

along a sweltering street

walks his or her own shadow

like an annoyingly small

dog. Meanwhile, the heat

reaches the suburb meadow,

and then the forest wall.

After the rain, the sun

has come back to this town,

paving the streets with gold.

Everything else seems done.

Nothing is going down —

except maybe a cold…

…drink as the heat keeps rising higher, higher and higher. Sizzling like a frying pan, the highway on the horizon appears to be on fire. Every woman and man reckless enough to stroll along a sweltering street walks his or her own shadow like an annoyingly small dog. Meanwhile, the heat reaches the suburb meadow, and then the forest wall. After the rain, the sun has come back to this town, paving the streets with gold. Everything else seems done. Nothing is going down — except maybe a cold…

April 2012

(IN THE DISTANCE)

…while it changes like

a woman. Another rain-

coat hangs on the skyline,

dripping down the drain.

Colors seem to collide

in the distance between

two words you try to hide

from. Somebody is seen

coming in a long, dark

gown that covers the back

of what looks like a park

alley painted black

and blue. Red lanterns light

up the face of the night…

…while it changes like a woman. Another raincoat hangs on the skyline, dripping down the drain. Colors seem to collide in the distance between two words you try to hide from. Somebody is seen coming in a long, dark gown that covers the back of what looks like a park alley painted black and blue. Red lanterns light up the face of the night…

June 2012

(TILL THE NEXT DAWN)

…till the next dawn.

You turn the light

off and then on,

watching the night…

…till the next dawn. You turn the light off and then on, watching the night…

August 2012

(BETWEEN THE SHEETS)

…under a pretty dark night-

gown with holes of light.

It is so cold outside

that one can hardly think

of going out. Hide

yourself in bed on the brink

of sleep — as deep as you can

between the sheets — and stay

there, only now and then

allowing your soul to stray

from your body and freeze

the window like a snap-

shot of a bunch of trees

intertwined for a nap…

…under a pretty dark nightgown with holes of light. It is so cold outside that one can hardly think of going out. Hide yourself in bed on the brink of sleep — as deep as you can between the sheets — and stay there, only now and then allowing your soul to stray from your body and freeze the window like a snapshot of a bunch of trees intertwined for a nap…

October 2012

(A BIT BLURRED)

…nights that are glazed with snow

falling in fast and slow

motion, depending on

the speed of wind before dawn.

There is more snow on the roof-

top right across the street.

You see it in your room

window, which is a bit

blurred. As you start to close

your eyes, it swiftly grows

dark. There is a whole sea

of thoughts in your head. You see

something out of sight

on black as well as on white…

…nights that are glazed with snow falling in fast and slow motion, depending on the speed of wind before dawn. There is more snow on the rooftop right across the street. You see it in your room window, which is a bit blurred. As you start to close your eyes, it swiftly grows dark. There is a whole sea of thoughts in your head. You see something out of sight on black as well as on white…

February 2013

(THROUGH THE SNOW)

…falling again. The snow

is wiping the city clean

out of sight, but you know

that it can still be seen.

You close your eyes and look

inside yourself as if you

were an old picture book

to be published anew,

or a fresh photograph

polished in a photo shop

window where you laugh

through the snow that won’t stop…

…falling again. The snow is wiping the city clean out of sight, but you know that it can still be seen. You close your eyes and look inside yourself as if you were an old picture book to be published anew, or a fresh photograph polished in a photo shop window where you laugh through the snow that won’t stop…

March 2013

(OUT OF THE OPEN BOOK)

…of GOD? Do you see the same

things I see when I look

at everything that came

out of the open Book…

…of GOD? Do you see the same things I see when I look at everything that came out of the open Book…

April 2013

(ABOUT SPRING SNOW)

…about spring snow

deep in the night.

This time seems slow

enough to be right

on it. More rain

can easily drive

someone insane

enough to dive

into a stream

of cars. You dream…

…about spring snow deep in the night. This time seems slow enough to be right on it. More rain can easily drive someone insane enough to dive into a stream of cars. You dream…

May 2013

(A LONG LOOK)

…on. Now, take a long look

at a window-shaped book

and tell me what you see

in its black and white sea

of letters standing in lines

as words of truth and lies.

Though the city grows dark

trees in the central park,

there is still enough light

in the depths of the night

to see at least one street

corner we hope to meet…

…on. Now, take a long look at a window-shaped book and tell me what you see in its black and white sea of letters standing in lines as words of truth and lies. Though the city grows dark trees in the central park, there is still enough light in the depths of the night to see at least one street corner we hope to meet…

August 2013

(TIME MACHINE)

…of time in places where

that time stands still or flies

around like fireflies

in the neon night air.

Your memory is a time

machine taking you back

to the scene of each crime

you’ve committed in black

and white. You go to sleep

before you begin to dream

about all you did deep

in the past. It may seem

like you are looking back

to see someone like you

talk to someone you knew

once again. There’s a track…

…of time in places where that time stands still or flies around like fireflies in the neon night air. Your memory is a time machine taking you back to the scene of each crime you’ve committed in black and white. You go to sleep before you begin to dream about all you did deep in the past. It may seem like you are looking back to see someone like you talk to someone you knew once again. There’s a track…

November 2013

(AS TIME GOES BY)

…as time goes by.

The winter sky

keeps hanging low.

Though there’s no snow,

everything is

starting to freeze

like in a freeze frame

from some video game…

…as time goes by. The winter sky keeps hanging low. Though there’s no snow, everything is starting to freeze like in a freeze frame from some video game…

December 2013

(DARKENED SKIES)

…with no one’s eyes.

The darkened skies

are lit by a moon.

It looks like soon

another rain

will start. Again,

you look for a way

to stop and play

everything back

in retro black

and white on the screen

of the night seen…

…with no one’s eyes. The darkened skies are lit by a moon. It looks like soon another rain will start. Again, you look for a way to stop and play everything back in retro black and white on the screen of the night seen…

March 2014

(IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS)

…of silver includes some gold.

It’s worn by nights and days.

Obeying the Will of GOD

in mysterious ways,

the sky is touched by the rust

of a sunset in spring.

The present turns into past

in the future. A ring…

…of silver includes some gold. It’s worn by nights and days. Obeying the Will of GOD in mysterious ways, the sky is touched by the rust of a sunset in spring. The present turns into past in the future. A ring…

April 2014

(IN OTHER WORLDS)

…it’s what it was like

in your other life

in other worlds.

In other words,

there is a sea-

like summer sky-

line stretching by.

As you may see…

…it’s what it was like in your other life in other worlds. In other words, there is a sea-like summer skyline stretching by. As you may see…

May 2014

(WHERE IT HAPPENED)

…where it happened too fast

to process anything at

all. And now it is set

way too deep in the past…

…where it happened too fast to process anything at all. And now it is set way too deep in the past…

August 2014

(IN MY DREAMS)

…again. Everything looks

different from what it seems

when it’s written in books.

I see it all in my dreams…

…again. Everything looks different from what it seems when it’s written in books. I see it all in my dreams…

October 2014

(BY AN ABANDONED ARCADE)

…in the form of another year,

which you yearn for and fear

at the same time. This time

rises on a high tide

of dreams before they fade

by an abandoned arcade

reminding you of the best

times from your distant past.

Covered with morning rime,

there is a river of time

where the year starts to

end and begin anew…

…in the form of another year, which you yearn for and fear at the same time. This time rises on a high tide of dreams before they fade by an abandoned arcade reminding you of the best times from your distant past. Covered with morning rime, there is a river of time where the year starts to end and begin anew…

November 2014

(THIS TOWN)

…in winter that lasted a few

days. And now autumn has

come back to each avenue,

street, lane, alley and pass

of this town. The sky

above is completely grey.

If somebody wants to die

here, do it today.

Tomorrow may be too late.

Tomorrow is also not far

enough to escape the fate

of one more burned-out star

shooting films into the main

line in the form of rain…

…in winter that lasted a few days. And now autumn has come back to each avenue, street, lane, alley and pass of this town. The sky above is completely grey. If somebody wants to die here, do it today. Tomorrow may be too late. Tomorrow is also not far enough to escape the fate of one more burned-out star shooting films into the main line in the form of rain…

December 2014

(WITHOUT A WORD)

…snow falls on the ground

without a word

or even a sound.

While you’re getting bored…

…snow falls on the ground without a word or even a sound. While you’re getting bored…

January 2015

(IN THE LONG RUN)

…as all are ashes in the long run.

All look for better ashtrays

to burn out like the sun

in acceptable ways.

Since time out of mind,

we’ve seen this stairwell.

At its bottom, we find

something it’s hard to tell

the truth about. It seems

that souls are in bodies like

letters in almost seam-

less envelopes. Each life

is a mixture of pain

and pleasure, sorrow and

happiness from a drain

pipe dream. Afraid to end,

we look to our past

but see only our present.

It’s hard to make it last.

At least so far, it hasn’t…

…as all are ashes in the long run. All look for better ashtrays to burn out like the sun in acceptable ways. Since time out of mind, we’ve seen this stairwell. At its bottom, we find something it’s hard to tell the truth about. It seems that souls are in bodies like letters in almost seamless envelopes. Each life is a mixture of pain and pleasure, sorrow and happiness from a drain pipe dream. Afraid to end, we look to our past but see only our present. It’s hard to make it last. At least so far, it hasn’t…

February 2015

(OF SAND)

…of dreams out of reach.

Castles of sand

built on a beach

foreshadow a land…

…of dreams out of reach. Castles of sand built on a beach foreshadow a land…

April 2015

(THROUGH SPACE AND TIME)

…through space and time.

It’s hard to rhyme

around this place

far from the Face

of GOD. It seems

to be made of dreams

seen in a mirror

where one era

follows another like

one life another life…

…through space and time. It’s hard to rhyme around this place far from the Face of GOD. It seems to be made of dreams seen in a mirror where one era follows another like one life another life…

May 2015

(IN A STREAM)

…up the road rolling

beneath the wind-

shield like falling

rain on your mind,

driving you in-

sane with the din

of traffic jam tin

cans in a stream

that slowly flows

away like a dream.

A hard wind blows…

…up the road rolling beneath the windshield like falling rain on your mind, driving you insane with the din of traffic jam tin cans in a stream that slowly flows away like a dream. A hard wind blows…

June 2015

(OPEN BOOK)

…the colors of every fall

in the window. You look

into the open book

of your hand down the hall.

Trying to read each line,

you usually begin

with the one of your life,

slowly dissolving in…

…the colors of every fall in the window. You look into the open book of your hand down the hall. Trying to read each line, you usually begin with the one of your life, slowly dissolving in…

October 2015

(ALMOST NO LIGHT)

…in every sense.

It was a tense,

dark winter day.

Almost no light.

One way to stay

sane is to write

about yourself.

Your memory

is like a shelf

with you and me

on it. It’s strange

how one can change…

…in every sense. It was a tense, dark winter day. Almost no light. One way to stay sane is to write about yourself. Your memory is like a shelf with you and me on it. It’s strange how one can change…

December 2015

(BY AND BY)

…and see that winter has come

back with a powdery trail

of fresh snow. There are some

things that rarely fail

to surprise you. The weather

is one of them. You are too

far apart to be together,

but you think you can do

something you’ve never done

before to turn your luck

around. Like a setting sun

that may still rise to love

no matter what, today

is beautiful because, by

and by, GOD makes it okay.

You look up at the sky…

…and see that winter has come back with a powdery trail of fresh snow. There are some things that rarely fail to surprise you. The weather is one of them. You are too far apart to be together, but you think you can do something you’ve never done before to turn your luck around. Like a setting sun that may still rise to love no matter what, today is beautiful because, by and by, GOD makes it okay. You look up at the sky…

February 2016

(THROUGH THE PANE)

…that it’s hard to look

at them through the pane.

It is bound like a book

written with rain.

The sun melts away

almost all the night

snow, leaving some day

colors so bright…

…that it’s hard to look at them through the pane. It is bound like a book written with rain. The sun melts away almost all the night snow, leaving some day colors so bright…

March 2016

(BETTER FATE)

…telling the truth from lies.

When you open your eyes

in the morning and look

out of the picture book

of your window, you see

someone sowing a seed

of love in the soil of faith

and hope for a better fate…

…telling the truth from lies. When you open your eyes in the morning and look out of the picture book of your window, you see someone sowing a seed of love in the soil of faith and hope for a better fate…

April 2016

(INNOCENT SOUL)

…again through the Power of

GOD’s Everlasting Love.

The day’s being painted gray

with pretty broad strokes of hard

rain. Will you be okay

if somebody breaks your heart

into pieces? The sky

is split by a lightning flash-

back to when you and I

took turns wearing flesh

wounds only an innocent soul

could heal and make whole…

…again through the Power of GOD’s Everlasting Love. The day’s being painted gray with pretty broad strokes of hard rain. Will you be okay if somebody breaks your heart into pieces? The sky is split by a lightning flashback to when you and I took turns wearing flesh wounds only an innocent soul could heal and make whole…

May 2016

(JUST AS OFTEN)

…on earth. You’re often wrong.

You’re just as often right.

Sometimes a slip of the tongue

feels good enough to write

it down between the lines.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell

the truth from all sorts of lies,

like heaven on earth from hell…

…on earth. You’re often wrong. You’re just as often right. Sometimes a slip of the tongue feels good enough to write it down between the lines. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the truth from all sorts of lies, like heaven on earth from hell…

June 2016

(OUT OF YOUR MIND)

…all day long, and at night —

a gown of neon light

pictures out of your mind

projected onto a sheet

of paper snow. It’s lined

left to right like a street.

Every corner is signed

with a road sign like some

weird contract. You find

it everywhere as a sum

total of emptiness

wearing a summer dress…

…all day long, and at night — a gown of neon light pictures out of your mind projected onto a sheet of paper snow. It’s lined left to right like a street. Every corner is signed with a road sign like some weird contract. You find it everywhere as a sum total of emptiness wearing a summer dress…

August 2016

(LINES IN THE SNOW)

…the tyres that type

lines in the snow.

Old drainpipe

dreams hardly show

up anymore.

You search your mind

behind each door,

trying to find…

…the tyres that type lines in the snow. Old drainpipe dreams hardly show up anymore. You search your mind behind each door, trying to find…

December 2016

(STRANGE SKIES)

…the room is dark.

The room is black.

A snow-white shark

swims through a crack

in time into

a window made

of what we, too,

are now afraid

to see in each

other’s strange eyes.

Upon the beach

of two strange skies…

…the room is dark. The room is black. A snow-white shark swims through a crack in time into a window made of what we, too, are now afraid to see in each other’s strange eyes. Upon the beach of two strange skies…

October 2017

(DREAM BOOK)

…book open between

things seen and unseen.

There are many words

around. They seem

to chirp like birds

inside a dream…

…book open between things seen and unseen. There are many words around. They seem to chirp like birds inside a dream…

November 2017

(SUNDAY SUMS)

…as Sunday sums

up all the suns

in the night sky.

Your eyes don’t lie

to you. Just look

out of the book

you want to write

or read tonight…

…as Sunday sums up all the suns in the night sky. Your eyes don’t lie to you. Just look out of the book you want to write or read tonight…

December 2017

(OF MELTING SPRING)

…of melting spring.

Now everything

is melting like

evening sunlight

upon a sky-

line drawn by

a sea of snow.

It’s seen in slow

motion and white

desert delight

mixed with the dessert-

like, fresh, wet dirt…

…of melting spring. Now everything is melting like evening sunlight upon a skyline drawn by a sea of snow. It’s seen in slow motion and white desert delight mixed with the dessert-like, fresh, wet dirt…

Match 2018

(DONE AT DAWN)

…are done at dawn.

Someone’s long screams

can be heard on

the record. Dreams…

…are done at dawn. Someone’s long screams can be heard on the record. Dreams…

April 2018

(ACROSS THE LAND)

…rhyming with rime

on morning grass.

Space blends with time

on tinted glass

clocks counting grains

of running sand.

It sometimes rains

across the land…

…rhyming with rime on morning grass. Space blends with time on tinted glass clocks counting grains of running sand. It sometimes rains across the land…

May 2018

(IN THE AFTERGLOW)

…also known as the sun.

This day is married to

that night. Does anyone

think that it isn’t true?

Some words don’t seem to mean

anything. Others — even

less. You look at their lean

letters while the evening

skies are starting to grow

dark as the easiest thing

to sow in the afterglow

of the day’s wedding ring…

…also known as the sun. This day is married to that night. Does anyone think that it isn’t true? Some words don’t seem to mean anything. Others — even less. You look at their lean letters while the evening skies are starting to grow dark as the easiest thing to sow in the afterglow of the day’s wedding ring…

July 2018

(OF THE NIGHT)

…where doorbell rings

shine in the ears

of the night. Fears

seem to have wings.

You know they’re here

when every sound

falls to the ground

level of sheer

madness. Your head

then turns around

the shadowy bed-

room. Once they found

you hiding behind

a shuddering blind…

…where doorbell rings shine in the ears of the night. Fears seem to have wings. You know they’re here when every sound falls to the ground level of sheer madness. Your head then turns around the shadowy bedroom. Once they found you hiding behind a shuddering blind…

August 2018

(BY THE DOOR)

…two weeks before

winter should show

up. Autumn snow

drops by the door

some wind forgot

to close or just

left open past

a time no thought

can put into

words that ring true…

…two weeks before winter should show up. Autumn snow drops by the door some wind forgot to close or just left open past a time no thought can put into words that ring true…

November 2018

(SNOW-WHITE FOLDER)

…before you both become older,

watching the trees get balder.

It’s getting colder and colder

as the night’s naked shoulder

shivers. You want to hold her

in your arms as you fold her

dreams in a snow-white folder…

…before you both become older, watching the trees get balder. It’s getting colder and colder as the night’s naked shoulder shivers. You want to hold her in your arms as you fold her dreams in a snow-white folder…

December 2018

(SOMEWHAT STRANGE)

…more trains of thoughts

and somewhat strange

events show lots

of words that change

the things they mean

and the things they

may even be mean

to. By the next day…

…more trains of thoughts and somewhat strange events show lots of words that change the things they mean and the things they may even be mean to. By the next day…

May 2019

(RAIN’S REFRAIN)

…to the rain’s refrain

again and again.

I like it when

it rains at night.

As a rain man,

I like to write

rhymes to the rain

woman. She likes

to see new lines

on her window pane…

…to the rain’s refrain again and again. I like it when it rains at night. As a rain man, I like to write rhymes to the rain woman. She likes to see new lines on her window pane…

August 2019

(TIED TO THAT TIME)

…even start to

understand. Too

tied to that time,

you try to rhyme

about what was

then put on pause.

But every thought

is about what

you ought to do

to make it through

another fall.

Across the hall,

you see a cross.

You start to cross

an empty street,

hoping to meet

someone you know.

But there is no

one there except

you. You accept

that because you

know that it’s true,

just like the fact

that GOD can act

in ways no man

or woman can…

…even start to understand. Too tied to that time, you try to rhyme about what was then put on pause. But every thought is about what you ought to do to make it through another fall. Across the hall, you see a cross. You start to cross an empty street, hoping to meet someone you know. But there is no one there except you. You accept that because you know that it’s true, just like the fact that GOD can act in ways no man or woman can…

October 2019

(SEA OF STARS)

…if it’s a Word

of GOD. It’s heard

at the right times.

Some think It rhymes.

Now and then, I

stare at the sky

at night and see

a shining sea

of stars. They seem

to be from a dream

come true. One word

can change the World…

…if it’s a Word of GOD. It’s heard at the right times. Some think It rhymes. Now and then, I stare at the sky at night and see a shining sea of stars. They seem to be from a dream come true. One word can change the World…

February 2020

(SHADOW AND LIGHT)

…are words also things?

Are things then words?

Are there strings

attached to all worlds,

tying them like

shadow and light?

Are they like Life

and Death as Part

of Life? Is the heart

of this world the sun?

In the Eyes of THE ONE…

…are words also things? Are things then words? Are there strings attached to all worlds, tying them like shadow and light? Are they like Life and Death as Part of Life? Is the heart of this world the sun? In the Eyes of THE ONE…

May 2020

(THE WORD OF GOD)

…of GOD, THE ONE

WHO made the Sun,

the Earth, and All

there is. Recall

what it may mean

not to be seen.

Sometimes you see

the sky as a sea

that is turned up-

side down. Stop

reading and look

out of the book

to see the World,

and thus — the Word…

…of GOD, THE ONE WHO made the Sun, the Earth, and All there is. Recall what it may mean not to be seen. Sometimes you see the sky as a sea that is turned upside down. Stop reading and look out of the book to see the World, and thus — the Word…

June 2020

(AROUND A WORD)

…in the Beginning when

there wasn’t a single man.

GOD created the World.

So, every single word

that may be found in

It can also be seen

as a word that has got

to be coming from GOD.

Whenever a word is found,

it is bound to be around

a word and, of course,

the Word that was…

…in the Beginning when there wasn’t a single man. GOD created the World. So, every single word that may be found in It can also be seen as a word that has got to be coming from GOD. Whenever a word is found, it is bound to be around a word and, of course, the Word that was…

February 2021

AROUND
A
WORD

A COLLECTION
OF CYCLIC
VERSE

COMPLETE VERSION

 
A
R
A W O R D
U
N
D
 

INSTEAD OF A FOREWORD

(AROUND THE WORD)

…of GOD. The World

turns around the Word…

…of GOD. The World turns around the Word…

February 2021

2004

(TIME)

…as time flies fast — unless GOD cuts its wings.

But then time seems to simply start to run

out of space. Time sometimes only brings

slow-motion sighing from the setting sun.

Yes, time can heal, but time can also kill

like a wind blowing out candles. When a rain-

storm starts, you feel all you can feel until

you come to find out if it is in vain…

…as time flies fast — unless GOD cuts its wings. But then time seems to simply start to run out of space. Time sometimes only brings slow-motion sighing from the setting sun. Yes, time can heal, but time can also kill like a wind blowing out candles. When a rainstorm starts, you feel all you can feel until you come to find out if it is in vain…

January 2004

(RAGE AND REGRET)

…of rage and regret.

There are many fears

that can make one sweat

or melt down in tears…

…of rage and regret. There are many fears that can make one sweat or melt down in tears…

February 2004

(THE EYES OF GOD)

…to know that the Eyes of GOD

see Everything. You have got…

…to know that the Eyes of GOD see Everything. You have got…

March 2004

(WORDS)

…like trees on streets.

Words grow in slow

motion. They grow

on paper sheets…

…like trees on streets. Words grow in slow motion. They grow on paper sheets…

April 2004

(FADED FLOWERS)

…they don’t seem to have met.

Frequently, faded flowers

are followed by floods of regret.

After a couple of hours…

…they don’t seem to have met. Frequently, faded flowers are followed by floods of regret. After a couple of hours…

May 2004

(WORDS OF LIGHT)

…of this city that greets

you with words of light.

In the silences of the night,

you keep roaming the streets…

…of this city that greets you with words of light. In the silences of the night, you keep roaming the streets…

June 2004

(ALL-SEEING EYES)

…because the All-seeing Eyes

of GOD watch from the Skies.

None should engage in lies…

…because the All-seeing Eyes of GOD watch from the Skies. None should engage in lies…

July 2004

(CRAMMED MIND)

…even in your crammed mind.

After losing yourself

a few times, you can find

that there is an empty shelf…

…even in your crammed mind. After losing yourself a few times, you can find that there is an empty shelf…

July 2004

(FREE ROOM)

…in your head where you

live like in a free room.

Now you pay attention to

nothing except the gloom…

…in your head where you live like in a free room. Now you pay attention to nothing except the gloom…

July 2004

(GAME OF WORDS)

…of words seems the same.

Almost any game…

…of words seems the same. Almost any game…

August 2004

(NIGHTGOWN)

…that is as far

as it is bright.

You wear a night-

gown like a star…

…that is as far as it is bright. You wear a nightgown like a star…

August 2004

(WELL OF WORDS)

…of words for those

who like to spell

in verse and prose.

There is a well…

…of words for those who like to spell in verse and prose. There is a well…

August 2004

(DURING THE DAY)

…but not nearly as far away.

You saw a star in the night.

And then during the day,

you saw a star as bright…

…but not nearly as far away. You saw a star in the night. And then during the day, you saw a star as bright…

September 2004

(COLLECTING THE CHANGE)

…scattered along the skies.

Somebody saw a strange

picture in the pale eyes

of dawn collecting the change…

…scattered along the skies. Somebody saw a strange picture in the pale eyes of dawn collecting the change…

October 2004

(THAT TIME)

…sharing the same emotion.

Almost each memory

of that time is a motion

picture of you and me…

…sharing the same emotion. Almost each memory of that time is a motion picture of you and me…

October 2004

(WORD ON A PAGE)

…around. In this dimly lit

room, it is hard to sit

still. So, I start to pace

up and down the place

like a rat in a cage

by a word on a page,

trying to accelerate

whatever makes me wait…

…around. In this dimly lit room, it is hard to sit still. So, I start to pace up and down the place like a rat in a cage by a word on a page, trying to accelerate whatever makes me wait…

October 2004

(INTO FINE ART)

…pieces of a brand-new

jigsaw puzzle. You

stare at the stars that start

to freeze into fine art…

…pieces of a brand-new jigsaw puzzle. You stare at the stars that start to freeze into fine art…

November 2004

(SAME MASK)

…wearing the same mask.

You should know how to ask

why everyone around you

says that a lie is true…

…wearing the same mask. You should know how to ask why everyone around you says that a lie is true…

November 2004

(THE SILENCE)

…to sit and wait

for the silence to break

under its own weight?

Is it a mistake…

…to sit and wait for the silence to break under its own weight? Is it a mistake…

November 2004

(THIS PLACE)

…since your very birth.

You’ve tried to tell

if this place is hell

or heaven on earth…

…since your very birth. You’ve tried to tell if this place is hell or heaven on earth…

November 2004

(WHITE WINDS)

…white winds play with white

willows. At night…

…white winds play with white willows. At night…

November 2004

(ANOTHER SEA)

…of snow in which your eyes

sink right before they see

that it reflects the skies.

There is another sea…

…of snow in which your eyes sink right before they see that it reflects the skies. There is another sea…

December 2004

(BY A CHRISTMAS TREE)

…out and spend some free

time by a Christmas tree.

The city looks like a cake

covered with layers of snow

and steel candles that make

everyone want to go…

…out and spend some free time by a Christmas tree. The city looks like a cake covered with layers of snow and steel candles that make everyone want to go…

December 2004

(EVERY DAY)

…words don’t always lead

to things. You need

to keep that in

mind. The machine

inside your head

is going mad.

You have no choice

but to hear its voice

every day and

night. In the end…

…words don’t always lead to things. You need to keep that in mind. The machine inside your head is going mad. You have no choice but to hear its voice every day and night. In the end…

December 2004

(IN THE DAYTIME)

…or grey as rime

in the daytime.

Sometimes at noon,

you see the moon.

But unlike at night,

it looks snow-white…

…or grey as rime in the daytime. Sometimes at noon, you see the moon. But unlike at night, it looks snow-white…

December 2004

(STARTING TO STIR)

…in the still night. There were

shadows starting to stir…

…in the still night. There were shadows starting to stir…

December 2004

(STEEL SKIES)

…in the steel skies,

tiny snow beads

fall. A wind sighs.

While the sun bleeds…

…in the steel skies, tiny snow beads fall. A wind sighs. While the sun bleeds…

December 2004

(THE WILL)

…around a parking lot

of words that may be not

there. You need some more

time for another chance

to understand why no war

of words makes any sense.

When the stars leave the sky,

sometimes it starts to drown

in the dark rising high

enough to erase this town.

Always obeying the Will

of GOD, things go still…

…around a parking lot of words that may be not there. You need some more time for another chance to understand why no war of words makes any sense. When the stars leave the sky, sometimes it starts to drown in the dark rising high enough to erase this town. Always obeying the Will of GOD, things go still…

December 2004

2005

(ACROSS THE YEAR’S EDGE)

…slipping out of sight.

You move from the window ledge

in the dark that surrounds the light

across the year’s edge…

…slipping out of sight. You move from the window ledge in the dark that surrounds the light across the year’s edge…

January 2005

(NIGHT COFFEE)

…out of the window. Still

night coffee starts to spill…

…out of the window. Still night coffee starts to spill…

January 2005

(STAR)

…telling you who you are.

A star slipped out of your eye

when you looked at the sky

and saw another star…

…telling you who you are. A star slipped out of your eye when you looked at the sky and saw another star…

January 2005

(VIEW OF THE DAY)

…of the day that had run

out of time. You knew

that seeing a bleeding sun-

set would alter your view…

…of the day that had run out of time. You knew that seeing a bleeding sunset would alter your view…

January 2005

(YEARS-LONG)

…that it may be all

you can recall

now. It was so

years-long ago…

…that it may be all you can recall now. It was so years-long ago…

January 2005

(THE SOUND OF LIGHT)

…the sound of light.

The sound of the night

looks like the sound

of the dark around…

…the sound of light. The sound of the night looks like the sound of the dark around…

February 2005

(BREAKING ALONG)

…to nowhere. Another day

is breaking along the way…

…to nowhere. Another day is breaking along the way…

March 2005

(SO DOES THE NIGHT)

…seems far away.

So does the night

in the daylight.

At night, the day…

…seems far away. So does the night in the daylight. At night, the day…

March 2005

(SPEAK SILENT)

…does. Do it in black and white.

Speak Silent like the night…

…does. Do it in black and white. Speak Silent like the night…

March 2005

(RAILROAD TRACK)

…moving from point A

to point Z and back

to point A. You stay

on the railroad track…

…moving from point A to point Z and back to point A. You stay on the railroad track…

April 2005

(RIGHT THERE)

…waves like a pirate flag

in the wind. Your soul’s right

there — in your body bag.

The dark hair of the night…

…waves like a pirate flag in the wind. Your soul’s right there — in your body bag. The dark hair of the night…

April 2005

(TWO SIDES)

…sides. Things seem to

have at least two…

…sides. Things seem to have at least two…

April 2005

(TWO WORDS)

…led to a speech.

You wrote two words.

They led towards

two more words, which…

…led to a speech. You wrote two words. They led towards two more words, which…

May 2005

(AROUND THIS PLACE)

…of it. The sky

is wearing a dress

of darkness by

a house of glass,

stone and steel

somewhere around

this place you feel

in the background

silence that’s there

when no one’s aware…

…of it. The sky is wearing a dress of darkness by a house of glass, stone and steel somewhere around this place you feel in the background silence that’s there when no one’s aware…

June 2005

(HARD TO TELL)

…dream you’ve already had

sound like a farewell.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell

a goodbye from a bad…

…dream you’ve already had sound like a farewell. Sometimes it’s hard to tell a goodbye from a bad…

June 2005

(HISTORIC FIGHT)

…and turned into a part

of many a work of art

about the Alamo night.

In that historic fight,

many a bleeding heart

stopped. Many were torn apart…

…and turned into a part of many a work of art about the Alamo night. In that historic fight, many a bleeding heart stopped. Many were torn apart…

June 2005

(ON THE OTHER SIDE)

…on the other side

of the nighttime machine.

Someone seems to be seen,

though he tries to hide…

…on the other side of the nighttime machine. Someone seems to be seen, though he tries to hide…

June 2005

(THE FIELD OF YOUR FEARS)

…onto the field of your fears.

These shadows have lived for years

in a flat where lights seem

to go out like a football team…

…onto the field of your fears. These shadows have lived for years in a flat where lights seem to go out like a football team…

June 2005

(CRAZY)

…around after

your crazy laughter.

The wall is grayer

than a thick layer

of snow. The ceiling

seems to be stealing

your mind’s attention.

You want to mention

it to somebody.

But there’s nobody…

…around after your crazy laughter. The wall is grayer than a thick layer of snow. The ceiling seems to be stealing your mind’s attention. You want to mention it to somebody. But there’s nobody…

July 2005

(IN SEARCH OF SOMETHING)

…in search of something that cannot be seen.

There is a shallow shadow on the wall,

looking for someone’s recently lost soul.

You change the channels like a snake the skin…

…in search of something that cannot be seen. There is a shallow shadow on the wall, looking for someone’s recently lost soul. You change the channels like a snake the skin…

July 2005

(SOME DREAMS)

…to have some dreams

that are insane.

Watching the rain,

somebody seems…

…to have some dreams that are insane. Watching the rain, somebody seems…

July 2005

(THE TRACK)

…each train of thoughts on the track

to something you don’t understand.

Your brain begins to black

out in order to end…

…each train of thoughts on the track to something you don’t understand. Your brain begins to black out in order to end…

July 2005

(TO SAY A WORD)

…before. Try to say a word

that has never been heard…

…before. Try to say a word that has never been heard…

July 2005

(AFTER THE RAIN)

…the rain starts after the rain

stops again. And again…

…the rain starts after the rain stops again. And again…

August 2005

(A STREETLIGHT)

…you see a streetlight

and shadows that fight.

Deep in the night…

…you see a streetlight and shadows that fight. Deep in the night…

August 2005

(AT FIRST)

…out of things that are free.

At first, you lose just one.

But then two lead to three

and so on till you run…

…out of things that are free. At first, you lose just one. But then two lead to three and so on till you run…

August 2005

(UP TO GOD)

…again? It’s got

to be up to GOD.

Just how many more

mornings must we

witness before

we become free…

…again? It’s got to be up to GOD. Just how many more mornings must we witness before we become free…

August 2005

(WAY BACK)

…after the sunset came,

the sky turned red, then black.

Nothing appeared the same,

going all the way back

to when that summer began

to end. Once again…

…after the sunset came, the sky turned red, then black. Nothing appeared the same, going all the way back to when that summer began to end. Once again…

August 2005

(A YEAR)

…which you don’t like

to talk about here.

It’s been a year

or so of your life…

…which you don’t like to talk about here. It’s been a year or so of your life…

September 2005

(IN THE WINDOW)

…your ears hear

around here.

The picture in

the window looks

like you have seen

it on a book’s

cover. Your eyes

despise the lies…

…your ears hear around here. The picture in the window looks like you have seen it on a book’s cover. Your eyes despise the lies…

September 2005

(ONLY ONE)

…sure that GOD is

THE ONLY ONE

WHO can know this.

If time can run

out, can there be

an end of Time?

Or is Time free

of ending? I’m…

…sure that GOD is THE ONLY ONE WHO can know this. If time can run out, can there be an end of Time? Or is Time free of ending? I’m…

September 2005

(ACROSS THE NIGHT)

…in a country across the night,

blue are the winds that blow

free, carrying away a kite.

Like a year ago…

…in a country across the night, blue are the winds that blow free, carrying away a kite. Like a year ago…

October 2005

(LOST IN TIME)

…out of mind. A drop

of rain can start a tide

of tears. A train stop

is sometimes lost in time…

…out of mind. A drop of rain can start a tide of tears. A train stop is sometimes lost in time…

October 2005

(MADE OF MIST)

…no one could see a tree.

The house did not exist

either. They both were free.

By a house made of mist…

…no one could see a tree. The house did not exist either. They both were free. By a house made of mist…

October 2005

(ON A SMILE)

…sandwiches in the freeze

frame of your TV set.

Somebody’s getting fat

on a smile made of cheese…

…sandwiches in the freeze frame of your TV set. Somebody’s getting fat on a smile made of cheese…

October 2005

(SINGLE SOUL)

…you see a lot of stares

but not a single soul.

Walking down the stairs

and then across the hall…

…you see a lot of stares but not a single soul. Walking down the stairs and then across the hall…

October 2005

(SOMEWHERE INSIDE YOUR HEAD)

…there is a book you read

so long ago that you

may want to read it anew.

Somewhere inside your head…

…there is a book you read so long ago that you may want to read it anew. Somewhere inside your head…

October 2005

(VOICE IN YOUR HEAD)

…while a voice in your head

tells you that you are dead.

Someone stands on your feet

out in an empty street…

…while a voice in your head tells you that you are dead. Someone stands on your feet out in an empty street…

October 2005

(WHEN IT STARTED TO SNOW)

…after what seemed like so

many months on the way

to what you never know?

Was it that autumn day

when it started to snow…

…after what seemed like so many months on the way to what you never know? Was it that autumn day when it started to snow…

October 2005

(ANYTHING)

…even if it is unheard

of. Anything has a chance

to have its own word

that makes almost no sense.

It can mean anything

you may want it to mean.

Every word means a thing.

It is seen or unseen…

…even if it is unheard of. Anything has a chance to have its own word that makes almost no sense. It can mean anything you may want it to mean. Every word means a thing. It is seen or unseen…

November 2005

(BARELY SEEN)

…and slips out of sight.

On an old TV screen,

something barely seen

switches from black to white…

…and slips out of sight. On an old TV screen, something barely seen switches from black to white…

November 2005

(BEFORE IT’S HIS WILL)

…before it’s HIS Will.

Another day

begins to fill

another way

to a parking lot

of words. At night,

you catch a thought

train and write —

you don’t really know

what. Only HE

does but doesn’t show

what it should be…

…before it’s HIS Will. Another day begins to fill another way to a parking lot of words. At night, you catch a thought train and write — you don’t really know what. Only HE does but doesn’t show what it should be…

November 2005

(CHANCE TO CHANGE)

…of. There is a chance to change

something that sounds as strange

as an unspoken word

about a thing that’s unheard…

…of. There is a chance to change something that sounds as strange as an unspoken word about a thing that’s unheard…

November 2005

(DAY OF THE WEEK)

…every day of the week.

Here comes another one.

The sea seems to be sick

and tired of eating the sun…

…every day of the week. Here comes another one. The sea seems to be sick and tired of eating the sun…

November 2005

(DOUBT)

…everywhere except the past.

The past may be the best

place. It’s also a time

on your mind that can rhyme

with any other time out

of mind. There’s room for doubt

even there. But there is

plenty of room for it

almost anywhere except

for what you decide to accept.

There is no doubt only in

Paradise. Doubt is seen…

…everywhere except the past. The past may be the best place. It’s also a time on your mind that can rhyme with any other time out of mind. There’s room for doubt even there. But there is plenty of room for it almost anywhere except for what you decide to accept. There is no doubt only in Paradise. Doubt is seen…

November 2005

(FEELINGS WITH THOUGHTS)

…the blender of your own mind

mixing feelings with thoughts

in various parking lots

of words. You find…

…the blender of your own mind mixing feelings with thoughts in various parking lots of words. You find…

November 2005

(FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH)

…there are lots of lost

things you could find

yourself saying. Lots

of things on your mind

are waiting to be

put into words

and become free.

For what it’s worth…

…there are lots of lost things you could find yourself saying. Lots of things on your mind are waiting to be put into words and become free. For what it’s worth…

November 2005

(MONEY)

…GOD. Money can make a life

easier. But it’s a lie

that seems true only to men

and women who haven’t seen…

…GOD. Money can make a life easier. But it’s a lie that seems true only to men and women who haven’t seen…

November 2005

(SLIP)

…saw a star slip off the sky

over the city. I…

…saw a star slip off the sky over the city. I…

November 2005

(THE MAN)

…happens to be the man

that’s walking towards a train

for some blood-red suntan.

A man made of hard rain…

…happens to be the man that’s walking towards a train for some blood-red suntan. A man made of hard rain…

November 2005

(ALL THAT)

…at the beginning of another end

of the year fading in the rear view

mirror. Your mind continues to blend

all that seems old with all that seems brand new…

…at the beginning of another end of the year fading in the rear view mirror. Your mind continues to blend all that seems old with all that seems brand new…

December 2005

(AN ENTIRE DAY)

…in the night. You can play

back an entire day…

…in the night. You can play back an entire day…

December 2005

(AT PRESENT)

…at present. Things last

till they make no sense.

You think that the past

was far less tense…

…at present. Things last till they make no sense. You think that the past was far less tense…

December 2005

(IN THE LOOKING GLASS)

…unless you look at us

both in the looking glass.

The man who lives with me

is quite hard to see…

…unless you look at us both in the looking glass. The man who lives with me is quite hard to see…

December 2005

(MORE TIME)

…can do what GOD can

do. You try to rhyme

time with more time

again. No man…

…can do what GOD can do. You try to rhyme time with more time again. No man…

December 2005

(ON THAT DAY)

…I found a place that would play

the main part in my memory.

It came to me on that day.

Before it came to me…

…I found a place that would play the main part in my memory. It came to me on that day. Before it came to me…

December 2005

(SPACE OF TIME)

…deep in the past.

It seems less tense

now. Few things last

when there’s no sense

in it. A lot

of words in a space

of time are lost

upon the face

of the earth. There

is almost no one

who’s left to stare

at a setting sun…

…deep in the past. It seems less tense now. Few things last when there’s no sense in it. A lot of words in a space of time are lost upon the face of the earth. There is almost no one who’s left to stare at a setting sun…

December 2005

2006

(BEHIND A WORD)

…on the cover of a magazine?

What’s hiding behind a word

you are said to have heard

or, perhaps, even seen…

…on the cover of a magazine? What’s hiding behind a word you are said to have heard or, perhaps, even seen…

January 2006

(EYES OF THE NIGHT)

…before the day

begins to play

back all the light

in the eyes of the night.

Watch a watchman watch

all the hands of his watch

point to the need

to gain some speed…

…before the day begins to play back all the light in the eyes of the night. Watch a watchman watch all the hands of his watch point to the need to gain some speed…

January 2006

(STAR SIGN)

…before it’s flooded with light.

On the outskirts of the night,

one can see a star sign

punctuate the skyline…

…before it’s flooded with light. On the outskirts of the night, one can see a star sign punctuate the skyline…

January 2006

(BIG THINGS)

…them on the other side

of the hole in your soul.

Big things start to seem small

enough to want to hide…

…them on the other side of the hole in your soul. Big things start to seem small enough to want to hide…

February 2006

(STILL SNOWING)

…into this time and place.

The snow isn’t addressed

to anyone except the past,

which leaves a ghostly trace

at present. Across the night,

a sign says “closed for repair”.

You wonder if there is a spare

life stashed out of sight.

White waves in the window sea

weave a world-wide web

of words you sometimes see

in their flow and ebb

when it snows. It is still

snowing, and, while it is,

the picture on the window sill

makes the whole world freeze…

…into this time and place. The snow isn’t addressed to anyone except the past, which leaves a ghostly trace at present. Across the night, a sign says “closed for repair”. You wonder if there is a spare life stashed out of sight. White waves in the window sea weave a world-wide web of words you sometimes see in their flow and ebb when it snows. It is still snowing, and, while it is, the picture on the window sill makes the whole world freeze…

February 2006

(TEXT)

…for a long book.

Placing days next

to nights can look

like writing a text…

…for a long book. Placing days next to nights can look like writing a text…

February 2006

(BETWEEN YOU AND ME)

…now. One can see

a frozen sea

between you and me…

…now. One can see a frozen sea between you and me…

March 2006

(NOWHERE)

…no one’s aware

of. It’s nowhere.

Stars stare from space.

Time passes a place…

…no one’s aware of. It’s nowhere. Stars stare from space. Time passes a place…

March 2006

(WITH GOD’S AID)

…all with GOD’s Aid.

So as not to fade

from space and time,

a poem should rhyme.

But it also should

sound just as good

in plain prose and

have no start or end…

…all with GOD’s Aid. So as not to fade from space and time, a poem should rhyme. But it also should sound just as good in plain prose and have no start or end…

March 2006

(BETWEEN NOW AND THEN)

…in spring, bare trees

begin to unfreeze

between now and then.

Drawn with GOD’s Pen

against a sheet

of falling sleet…

…in spring, bare trees begin to unfreeze between now and then. Drawn with GOD’s Pen against a sheet of falling sleet…

April 2006

(MAN OF LETTERS)

…more than a man

known as just

a man who can

do what he must.

A man of letters

out of words

feels like he matters

one or two thirds…

…more than a man known as just a man who can do what he must. A man of letters out of words feels like he matters one or two thirds…

April 2006

(PRINTS)

…prints in the snow

lead you don’t know

where. They look

like notes in a book

that someone wrote.

Down the road…

…prints in the snow lead you don’t know where. They look like notes in a book that someone wrote. Down the road…

April 2006

(RAIN)

…by and then stops.

A rain drops by

a cloudy sky.

The rain drops…

…by and then stops. A rain drops by a cloudy sky. The rain drops…

May 2006

(STARS)

…from the stark-

naked night

sky. Stars

shed light…

…from the stark-naked night sky. Stars shed light…

May 2006

(TORN APART)

…as if it was the heart

of a fine work of art.

The day was torn apart…

…as if it was the heart of a fine work of art. The day was torn apart…

May 2006

(ANOTHER SIGN)

…about another sign

punctuating a line

on a paper road.

You wrote…

…about another sign punctuating a line on a paper road. You wrote…

June 2006

(BOTH WAYS)

…which sounds and smells like looks

can be deceptive to taste.

They differ in different books.

Many words go to waste.

The present becomes the past,

whereas the future is clear

only to GOD. Your last

chance to defeat your fear

may be right now. Or may-

be some other time. Regret

is of the past. One day

you may get what they get.

Pain and pleasure, of course,

are of the present, like joy.

Sorrow tries to destroy

everything that is, was

and will be. A night sky

speaks to an empty street.

Say hallo, then goodbye,

hoping that you will meet

again after another night.

You are getting ahead

of yourself. Out of sight,

you live in your own head

as if it was a room

or an entire block

of flats. Haunted by gloom,

you dwell on top of a clock

tower of ivory or

whatever you think it is

you can see in the freeze

frame of your mind. A door-

way leads both ways: outside

and inside. There’s another

doorway where you can hide,

getting farther and farther

away. Under the bruised

sky in the afterglow,

a multitude of unused

rain clouds crawl in slow

motion to turn on the black

coffee machine of the night

and then maybe come back

in coffee-black or milk-white…

…which sounds and smells like looks can be deceptive to taste. They differ in different books. Many words go to waste. The present becomes the past, whereas the future is clear only to GOD. Your last chance to defeat your fear may be right now. Or maybe some other time. Regret is of the past. One day you may get what they get. Pain and pleasure, of course, are of the present, like joy. Sorrow tries to destroy everything that is, was and will be. A night sky speaks to an empty street. Say hallo, then goodbye, hoping that you will meet again after another night. You are getting ahead of yourself. Out of sight, you live in your own head as if it was a room or an entire block of flats. Haunted by gloom, you dwell on top of a clock tower of ivory or whatever you think it is you can see in the freeze frame of your mind. A doorway leads both ways: outside and inside. There’s another doorway where you can hide, getting farther and farther away. Under the bruised sky in the afterglow, a multitude of unused rain clouds crawl in slow motion to turn on the black coffee machine of the night and then maybe come back in coffee-black or milk-white…

June 2006

(CLOTHES LINE)

…on the skyline

that looks just like

a clothes line. I

see rain clouds dry…

…on the skyline that looks just like a clothes line. I see rain clouds dry…

June 2006

(LIKE DESSERT)

…in a dream.

Even dirt

can seem

like dessert…

…in a dream. Even dirt can seem like dessert…

July 2006

(LOST FOR WORDS)

…you look for new worlds.

Sometimes you find

them in your mind.

Being lost for words…

…you look for new worlds. Sometimes you find them in your mind. Being lost for words…

July 2006

(ON TV)

…set on TV. Someone

watches another sun…

…set on TV. Someone watches another sun…

July 2006

(DIMENSIONS OF DOUBT)

…other dimensions of doubt

only GOD can figure out.

Various memories

may seem ready to freeze

in the form of plain prose.

Or in verse. Getting close

to repeating each day

like a film on replay,

time can feel like a place

on your mind when you face…

…other dimensions of doubt only GOD can figure out. Various memories may seem ready to freeze in the form of plain prose. Or in verse. Getting close to repeating each day like a film on replay, time can feel like a place on your mind when you face…

August 2006

(ALMOST ANY PAST)

…remember. If you

start it anew,

this summer can last

a lot longer than

almost any past

time that you can…

…remember. If you start it anew, this summer can last a lot longer than almost any past time that you can…

August 2006

(THE NOISE)

…and a bit blue.

In it, the night

comes after you.

The noise is white…

…and a bit blue. In it, the night comes after you. The noise is white…

August 2006

(THROUGH YOUR HEAD)

…as the night starts to fall

like a cup full of cold

coffee or a lost soul

somebody has been told

about again. The street

circulates neon blood

from a place where you meet

yourself fighting a flood

of emotions. The thoughts

traveling through your head

look for new parking lots

of words that sound mad

even to you. Before

you can finally dare

go outside, the door

becomes an electric chair

of anticipation of

someone turning it on

and then turning it off.

Another day is gone…

…as the night starts to fall like a cup full of cold coffee or a lost soul somebody has been told about again. The street circulates neon blood from a place where you meet yourself fighting a flood of emotions. The thoughts traveling through your head look for new parking lots of words that sound mad even to you. Before you can finally dare go outside, the door becomes an electric chair of anticipation of someone turning it on and then turning it off. Another day is gone…

September 2006

(IN A WINDOW FRAME)

…picture in a window frame

painted by the fall.

Everything stays the same

until it doesn’t. All

you see can always change.

Looks like it is GOD’s Law,

and Its nature is flaw-

less. There is another strange…

…picture in a window frame painted by the fall. Everything stays the same until it doesn’t. All you see can always change. Looks like it is GOD’s Law, and Its nature is flawless. There is another strange…

October 2006

(PAUSE)

…the street looks still.

It’s like it’s on

pause. Before dawn

begins to spill…

…the street looks still. It’s like it’s on pause. Before dawn begins to spill…

October 2006

(WHO KNOWS)

…except GOD? There are words

it’s not easy to say.

At the end of the day,

who knows how the World works…

…except GOD? There are words it’s not easy to say. At the end of the day, who knows how the World works…

October 2006

(LETTERS OF NEON LIGHT)

…w i t h i n w o r d s s o m e o n e w r o t e

o n t h e b a c k o f t h e n i g h t.

L e t t e r s o f n e o n l i g h t

g l i m m e r a c r o s s t h e r o a d…

…w i t h i n w o r d s s o m e o n e w r o t e o n t h e b a c k o f t h e n i g h t. L e t t e r s o f n e o n l i g h t g l i m m e r a c r o s s t h e r o a d…

…within words someone wrote

on the back of the night.

Letters of neon light

glimmer across the road…

…within words someone wrote on the back of the night. Letters of neon light glimmer across the road…

November 2006

(MAIN WORD)

…around GOD’s Main Word.

There are worlds of words in the World…

…around GOD’s Main Word. There are worlds of words in the World…

November 2006

(TO EACH UNTRAINED EYE)

…to each untrained eye

that looks up at the sky.

A lot of time has passed

from the future into the past

through the present. This time

is beginning to rhyme

with that time, telling the truth

about somebody’s lost youth.

Time is the Answering Machine

of GOD, WHO remains unseen…

…to each untrained eye that looks up at the sky. A lot of time has passed from the future into the past through the present. This time is beginning to rhyme with that time, telling the truth about somebody’s lost youth. Time is the Answering Machine of GOD, WHO remains unseen…

November 2006

(BACK TO THE WORD)

…of GOD. The Whole Wide World

goes way back to the Word…

…of GOD. The Whole Wide World goes way back to the Word…

December 2006

(BETWEEN THINGS AND WORDS)

…across any breech

between things and words.

You must know what works

to build a bridge…

…across any breech between things and words. You must know what works to build a bridge…

December 2006

(THROUGH THINGS AND WORDS)

…how the World works,

which sometimes shows

through things and words.

Only GOD knows…

…how the World works, which sometimes shows through things and words. Only GOD knows…

December 2006

2007

(ANOTHER SHIP)

…another ship

sails in the night.

Starting to slip

out of sight…

…another ship sails in the night. Starting to slip out of sight…

January 2007

(MIDDLE OF NOWHERE)

…right in the middle of

nowhere. You turn off

course to a quiet street

under a falling sheet

of very deep and slow,

paper-like snow…

…right in the middle of nowhere. You turn off course to a quiet street under a falling sheet of very deep and slow, paper-like snow…

January 2007

(STUCK IN THE PAST)

…in the afterglow,

mad wind starts to blow

at a bare tree

on which plastic bags

grow quite free

of charge, like legs

on all the floors

of a house. I

see lots of doors

and windows. The sky-

line shrinks this space

with driving rain

clouds on the face

of the moon. Train

windows go dark.

Thick crowns of trees

conceal a park.

Streets start to freeze.

Some call it a day,

though it is night.

Some seek to stay

out of sight

of their own eyes.

Stuck in the past,

they recognize

a time that has passed.

Only GOD can return

it now. Taking a turn…

…in the afterglow, mad wind starts to blow at a bare tree on which plastic bags grow quite free of charge, like legs on all the floors of a house. I see lots of doors and windows. The skyline shrinks this space with driving rain clouds on the face of the moon. Train windows go dark. Thick crowns of trees conceal a park. Streets start to freeze. Some call it a day, though it is night. Some seek to stay out of sight of their own eyes. Stuck in the past, they recognize a time that has passed. Only GOD can return it now. Taking a turn…

January 2007

(FEBRUARY)

…my fair February. Farewell,

my fair, fair, fair February.

I wish You well. I always wish You well.

I wish you to stay as fair and fairy

as You are now. There is a bare bough

that trembles in the framework of my window.

In it, I see each tree begin to bow

to the wind, starting with a weeping willow,

as they become another tiny part

of memory. It is a memory

of a time I have hidden in my heart,

hoping that it can somehow set me free.

Dear February, I was born in You.

In many ways, you have been like a father

to me. But since the moment I first knew

You, You appear to have gotten farther

away. It looks like You are quite far

away from me. I am as far away

from You. You look just like a morning star

that can beget another dreamful day,

month and then year. There is only me

looking at You since there is no one else

around here (in this spacious sea

of time) now. It looks like Time always tells

the Truth. Time’s like an Answering Machine

of GOD. And as such, Time has got to tell

something that no one’s ever heard, felt, seen

or even dreamed about. So, farewell,

my friend, my comrade, my mate, my pen pal…

…my fair February. Farewell, my fair, fair, fair February. I wish You well. I always wish You well. I wish you to stay as fair and fairy as You are now. There is a bare bough that trembles in the framework of my window. In it, I see each tree begin to bow to the wind, starting with a weeping willow, as they become another tiny part of memory. It is a memory of a time I have hidden in my heart, hoping that it can somehow set me free. Dear February, I was born in You. In many ways, you have been like a father to me. But since the moment I first knew You, You appear to have gotten farther away. It looks like You are quite far away from me. I am as far away from You. You look just like a morning star that can beget another dreamful day, month and then year. There is only me looking at You since there is no one else around here (in this spacious sea of time) now. It looks like Time always tells the Truth. Time’s like an Answering Machine of GOD. And as such, Time has got to tell something that no one’s ever heard, felt, seen or even dreamed about. So, farewell, my friend, my comrade, my mate, my pen pal…

February 2007

(SEA OF SNOW)

…seeing a sea of snow.

It looks like a prophecy

of some kind. You slow

down your eyes to see

it become as clear as

a sea that’s totally calm.

It can be in a glass

of ice freezing the palm

of your hand on a beach

that looks like a backyard.

It seems out of reach,

but it’s still not that hard

to touch the face of the earth

hidden behind a mask

of snow. It’s giving birth

to what you fear to ask

about. What does it mean

to fear hearing a voice

that can never be seen?

It leaves you little choice

but to cross the skyline

that separates the past

from the future — a sign

of a present that’s passed.

Hear the sound of a fright

train of thoughts in your head

crossing your line of sight.

As this train goes mad,

it gets loaded with fear,

and that fear overwhelms

you. It is getting near

all the possible realms

you don’t want to go to,

trying to tell which one

is which out of too

many. In the long run,

they encompass the same

end of an empty street

that has a scary name.

It’s too hard to repeat

it, watching another night

freeze in the window frame.

You can hear that fright

train type your first name

on the railroad track,

making it easy to spell

it out all the way back

to the first farewell.

GOD is certainly GOOD

and undeniably GREAT,

but somehow you still brood

over your own fate…

…seeing a sea of snow. It looks like a prophecy of some kind. You slow down your eyes to see it become as clear as a sea that’s totally calm. It can be in a glass of ice freezing the palm of your hand on a beach that looks like a backyard. It seems out of reach, but it’s still not that hard to touch the face of the earth hidden behind a mask of snow. It’s giving birth to what you fear to ask about. What does it mean to fear hearing a voice that can never be seen? It leaves you little choice but to cross the skyline that separates the past from the future — a sign of a present that’s passed. Hear the sound of a fright train of thoughts in your head crossing your line of sight. As this train goes mad, it gets loaded with fear, and that fear overwhelms you. It is getting near all the possible realms you don’t want to go to, trying to tell which one is which out of too many. In the long run, they encompass the same end of an empty street that has a scary name. It’s too hard to repeat it, watching another night freeze in the window frame. You can hear that fright train type your first name on the railroad track, making it easy to spell it out all the way back to the first farewell. GOD is certainly GOOD and undeniably GREAT, but somehow you still brood over your own fate…

February 2007