not yet there


.
we lie like dreamers
between yesterday’s sun
and the rippled hopes
of tomorrow,

squished tightly
into sandy silence,
bound to the base and

covered with seaweed,
we patiently wait

for the open sky to
breathe the breath
of its children and

bent low,
knees covered with mud,
we scribble
bits & pieces of our life
into wobbly ground,

the wind blows us
even and
your stubble on my skin

feels wild like the waters
we rise


Today’s one shoot sunday prompt was shot by UK photographer Fee Easton

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>all the way down

>it’s not about spanish tunes, lost 

on the floor, hidden in loops on the carpet,
bouncing back from deaf, tired walls like
boozed soldiers when the battle is won.

it’s about fighting, losing and feeling
black lashes brush soft on pale skin and
letting you kiss me all the way down to the
ground, the earth, the real where it started,
where i get quiet, where i feel your strength

burn my night until i can smell again, until
it tastes right, until it was not, it was never 
anything else but you & me on the floor

in the silence, the dark and getting lost on
your lips with what you call love – and it is.

>filthy rags – a christmas rondel

>

This is my birthday poem for the one, who loves me most, for him who started his humble walk in a stable and went all the way to the cross because he loved us more than his life. Don’t know where i were without him – he saved me more than once and I guess there are never enough words to express how much I owe him and how much I love him. So…. happy birthday Jesus…!

filthy rags

you come to me when i expect it least
and cover me with wings as with a coat
i find no words to tell you what i hope
just stunned as you invite me to your feast
you take away what’s old and used and greased
on water, i walk straight towards your boat
you come to me when i expect it least
and cover me with wings as with a coat
in fear of drowning all my movements freeze
my song stuck somewhere deep down in my throat
and filthy rags are scattered on the road
your love for me has never ever ceased
you come to me when i expect it. least
Merry Christmas to all of you!

(the rondel was invented in the 14th century, rhyme scheme is ABba abAB abbaA)

>what it is – a rap collaboration with Immanuel

>

First poem i wrote in rap style and thought it would be nice to really have it rapped – so i asked Immanuel if he would do the vocals – he did – and an amazing job i think.  thanks again!

what it is

it’s this genuine life
that’s precious to me
liftin’ me high up in the air
and lets me dive into the sea

it’s your brush
paintin’ my future bright
makes my heart pace fast
stirrin’ my longing for the light

it’s a free flow fall
killin’ all the pain
quietenin’ these voices
drivin’ me insane

it’s jumping walls
bein’ real with you and me
lookin’ into your eyes
it’s my reflection i see

it’s got me letting go
no need to control
shed blood floods my sins
you makin’ me whole

it’s comin’ ya close
findin’ shelter from the rain
cuttin’ loose these bonds
and the freedom i claim

it’s got me letting go
no need to control
shed blood floods my sins
makin’ me
makin’ me whole
ya know?

linking up with One Shot Wednesday – join us, write a poem or just jump over to read others. Sign up opens today at 5 pm EST

>Blanc screen

>Instead of eating, I walk
shuffling through leaves
as through old songs
down to the roots of the hardly audible,
drifted on the wind

Try to catch my thoughts
as they blow rocket-high.

Like left-over ashes
from a long lapsed log fire
they scatter
across my storm-shaken brain
Feels like blanc screen before
or after?
the error alert

My breath forces weighty feathers
on light breezes,
they spill down, overstrained with flying
and crowd, crowd, crowd
my yard
while hen claws scratch acid sharp trenches
with no material left to backfill

Instead of “instead ofs”
I fall into that space into betweens,
glide deeper
faster
Yes – I’m hungry;
flashlights
paint blazing reflections
on my cheeks
as I walk away,
..wondering if they’d turn red
before the rooster crows
for the second time

for more magpie tales, join us over at willow’s place

>your DNA

>like
echoes
in the dark
my song
channels
trails
towards
the sun

it’s you
i seek
and you
take me
out
of
the public
and love
my strives
away
behind
closed doors
i
kiss life
with
tender lips
and
strong arms
hold
me tight
and
inhaling
your breath
i
conceive
and
one day
give birth
to
what
you
have fathered
and what
in
bright daylight
truly
carries
your DNA

>unframed

>

 

last night
i took you
to bed
and we got
intimate
on cool linen

you mirrored
my weakness
reflected
vulnerability
and your
skilfully
crafted
frame
spoke
of the
limitations
i would love
to deny

with tender
honesty
you let me
see
the things
that are
without
breaking
me apart

you let
me touch
not minding
all
the moistly
smears
i left
blurring vision
for a moment

you loved me
in small
doses
opened
my eyes
without
enforcing
what i’m not
yet ready
to see

when i got
bold
enough
to come
you close
i didn’t see
the borders
any more
just my eyes
reflecting
all the needs
you’ve met
decades ago
when the nails
that held you
unframed
my life

join us over at willow’s place