tainted rush

intoxicating pigments

numbed all your senses

radiant choice of colours

looks grey and pale to you

thrusting fragile fingers

dull-tipped rusty needles

may hold a tainted rush

no justice can undo

The Cat

The cat came to my front door

And asked her way in

Knowing I would not open

But she would try again

She asked at my backdoor

I would not let her in

The rats played in the attic

Why would she try again

the right hand of sleep

the right hand of sleep strokes my chest

why is it so difficult to speak

when distance is rare

i hold my breath lest it is heard

in between every finger that is truly there

can we only speak of dreams

into the silence of a mountain lake

swallowing the strain of climbing to that peak

and all regret of leaving it

when we plunge our heads into cool water

strip off every shell and dive

gently

into the relieve of a slightly bended morning

I am too small

Your vessel is flooded. 

There is no island. 

But you swim. 

Though you can’t swim. 

Water carries you. 

Because it must. 

I am too small. 

Can only
Empty lakes with cups. 

But I can keep trying. 

So long as you swim.

red ambers

love is to dare

a share in two chambers

glare of red ambers

until despair

longing for the core

the edge of a lake

framed me into his depth

now with each and every breath

I stir the glaze of his mirror

and every time I reach

for the sky of his grounds

I sink

into a gaping gorge

a mountain upside down

longing for the core

stretching its peak

for the bottom of a surface

At the peak of a storm

I cling to you

With one ribbon

Entangled
You captured my fabric

I don’t know when 
I fell asleep

For a second
One stitch on the ground
Maybe all along

I only awake

At the peak of a storm

The Eruption

I’m obsessed with birds

They fell off my shoulder

Maybe they sensed

The Eruption

Not too far

Don't look, they chirp
Don't look,


I close my eyes
They lie on the ground

I overfed them
They lost balance
Am I waiting too hard

Don't look
When I don’t look

Will they return

To sit on my shoulder

Say it simple and in easy words.

The sense of an ending.

It’s over.
End.

Cricket in the desk

How many decibel
A cricket in the desk

Blasting eardrums

Plugs in my head

Play a better tune 

I stare

At yellow stained curtains

Sucked
Into the fan’s rotation

Again and again 
I left the closet open

Green metal, stickers veneering

Army style, armoured insects

Creeping inside, preparing for war

All covered 
In layers of dust

Mixed with sweat 
Protects from ozone depletion

Windows latticed, 

Smog burns my breath

If there is fire 
I lock myself

Into the closet’s dark air

Sitting next to a moth

Eating the nerves of my dress

I wait for the cricket

To burn to silence

the well

the well in the desert 
is beyond utility
a vision, revelation
ecstatic, enchanting hallucination
holding within
one drop’s reflection
all there is to die 
and die and live for

Within the river

Within the river

Stands a mighty rock.

Not one inch he would move,

Give way to the river.

With time you see

How much the river

Has moved the mighty rock. 

The tulip

I sleep in a tulip's cup

under his window, waiting

for dawn to unlock.

A peacock is my guard

raising his feathers

when someone comes to pluck

my tulip's golden cup.

salted wounds

when you ask me to suffer
voluntarily i will suffer
when you ask me not to speak

i will be silent
when you ask me to sink
i will reach for the ground
i will stay away from fire
and drown in an ocean
of scattered smiles
unharvested
evaporating into a breeze
that lets the world respire
who am i to raise
above the world's agonies
i will not, can not
i let them pass through
and offer a hand
to support your shoulder
to wipe away tears
to bring you the water
that calms down your fears
my body hurts
but i will learn
to live with salted wounds
and give the balm
to those who require

The edges are blunt

I grow and shrink

In this rotating feeling

Hanging from a ceiling

Inside me a fan

How to switch off the world

Around my restless blades

The edges are blunt

Memories fade

I cut all air in pieces

If this is the purpose

For which I was made

Please switch me off

They know best

You see sparkles

But what you see

Are reflections of light

Reverberating from panes

Of high speed trains

Having passed my doorstep

I had thought out

As entrance without keys

Thieves

Swallowed all moments

Of in between silence

They stole all

My migrating birds

And unlearnt

Their sense of direction

When the world stopped turning

I saw them

Those birds without sense

They need tracks now

I saw them

On seats and in shoes

Without melody

They watch the world through windows

And I wonder

Who is the conductor

Does he draw the maps

He never goes for

Secret little archways

All he sees are tracks

Speeding up the train

What is the speed for

The world is small and round

The only route I know

Follows cycles and seasons

Of heartbeat and rest

Of fire and rain

I cultivate the soil

And throw out the seeds

Let them grow wildly

Without any fence

They know best

What makes a spray worth the harvest

They know best

What makes a field worth the rain

In a room without end

I tricked myself

Only to end up

In a room without end

Could have wandered forever

Convinced to see a wall

But then I remembered

Closed my eyes

And took a step back

All my wandering

Had not taken me further

Than one step

From the door I had left

Days ago

I wonder, how often

Will I have to remember

And take a step back

And the moon became my boat

When the shade of a cloud

Touched my skin

I looked down to earth

And saw myself

In a river of shadow and light

Passing over me

It streamed into a lake and the moon

Became my boat

Carrying all my melodies

Into beautiful morning light

I know the moon can’t swim

But it wouldn’t sink either

let's not play with gravity

if every thing was light

we would fall into space

where no body can breathe

wings without pressure

seeds without ground

no rivers and trees

every thing floating

on currents of dust

all falling apart

into light within darkness

no need 

for love and compassion

forgiveness and grief

let's not play with gravity

things appear to be heavy

they only appear 

so we can learn, love and live

flowers wither, rivers dry,
heat melts all fragile moments
you fly here and there and every second
we could share just passes by