Thursday, November 17, 2011

One last time

Do not love me

For love has consequences that you may not like

Do not love me

If your love is hesitant

If your love is afraid

Afraid to be buried under a wintry snow

Or scorched by the summer

You say you love me

Does the love disappear when everything is gone?

You say you love me

As much as the song bird that loves the song

And the music that the wind carries in its soul

Would you love the music if the wind swept off everything else?

Do you love like the cicada

Which cries for its mate with crimson eyes?

And in the process

Burns itself out with passion

You ask me why I am this way

And in vain I try to conjure

A million words to explain

That which is so simple

But I will try one last time.

Do you know what it is to love?

What it is to love with burning passion?

Do you know what it is to carry the flame?

Do you know what it is like

When there is no one else to share the fire?

Do you know what it’s like

To keep the flame all to yourself

Till there is no choice

But to burn yourself out?

Thursday, December 9, 2010


I've waited enough for the winter of your eyes
to cajole me into a white slumber
that would not melt away
you know I've waited,and abated
the urge to spiral
downward into the whirlwind of your toxic promises
I've let the moments slip through my fingers
dissolve in the rain and trickle down
the alleys of those winter eyes
in which I am forever lost
so that they freeze for eternity
drop by drop,
till they form a curtain of snow
to cover the trees of those promises
so that i am blinded by the snow
and not see that the trees had shed
all the leaves of hope
long ago
when your eyes first met me

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

walk with me

sweet child of the forest
angel of the night
walk with me
on streets of diabolical dreams
forget all the promises
the vulgar melodrama

when the stage is empty
and the curtains are down
we will pick up the broken violin
and weave our incandescent future
out of a forgotten tune

Saturday, November 27, 2010


listen to the chants of mirrors
ere the drop of blood shatters it
blood that bites the edge of the glass
blood that cuts the edge of a shard
blood that flows through the veins of desire
blood that flares up in your fire
blood that wets your dreams at night
blood that shivers on the glean of a knife
blood that bleeds your eyes at dawn
blood that splashes your soul at dusk
blood that you sip when you're making love
blood that you scratch lost in mire
blood that you scar ripping the skin
blood that dissolves the fire of desire
blood that trickles down your lonely walls
blood that you smell sitting in your lonely hall
blood that streaks across the skies
blood that clouds the moon with red
blood that glints in the eye of the bride
blood that shimmers when you are half past dead
blood that tries to warm the heart
the old, cold heart, bereft
of warmth since the ages of Thoth
blood that stains the winter's snow
trail of blood that follows you home

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Unborn letter

All the unwritten letters in my head
Leave my heart cold.
Wish i could make a bonfire out of them;
Maybe that will give some warmth.

I don't know why I don't write them.
Maybe because I fear;
Fear that you will not care
To read between the lines.

Or maybe i fear;
Fear that you are too busy
To savour a little bit of idleness.

What good will it be?
It won't give you usefulness,
nor function, nor fruition.

But i still hope
That oneday i will write them.

I still hope;
Hope like an incessant stream,
Almost trickling,
But never quite drying out.

I still hope that maybe,
Against the current,
It will just somhow manage
To reach the void in your heart;
Which, i hope, is still there.

That maybe you will still
Allow a teardrop of tenderness
To fall from the page
Onto your soul.

Friday, April 30, 2010


Let us be madmen,
Because sanity sells its flesh on the streets.

Let us be mad,
Because reason usurps even the last morsel
From the orphans' mouth,
To drape its gilded palaces
With the glitter of inanimate metals.

Let us be mad
And talk to the walls at night,
Because the ears of sanity,
Hear only the jingle of coins
And the applause of the herd.

Let us be mad
And ravage through the sands of time
To discover a forgotten tune,
Because reason will only throw the sand
Into the eyes of those
Who dare to peep into its soul.

Let us be mad,
But let us not forget to pin our hopes
Onto the walls of tomorrow,
As reason will only use the pins
To puncture those hearts
That still beat,
That still bleed.


Flakes of evening grey
Float into my dusty room
And, for a shallow while
Make it their home.
Till the emaciated sun
Breathes its last,
Having found peace,
At last.

And for this lonely while
Nothing suffices,
Not words,
Nor music,
Nor images.
Only me
And, this surreal dusk
Sit lonely,
For a while.