You know

I’ve done all that I could. That’s what they always say. I wish you happiness in your life. I cannot be responsible for what’s wrong with the system. Please don’t blame me, I really tried. We can be friends, maybe, I would really like that, you know, you are the most important person and so on.

Assurance

Sometimes I feel that she speaks to her in a harsh tone only to ensure that the other knows her place, all dressed up like that in colourful sarees with so much gold on ears, arms and fingers,--  it must be intimidating to see someone cleaning like this, I wouldn’t know any other reason, how else to clarify roles.

i am not interested.

for you, sometimes

I cry for you, sometimes

knowing you have slipped

from the hourglass

fill me with rain

make me your lake

my roots are hollow

your prayers are golden

I sing for you, sometimes

do you remember

the sound of my voice

melodies scattered

like flowers in a garden

some of them wither

some of them die

I smile for you, sometimes

knowing your life
carries on without mine

to the moon

I write to the moon

how much I miss

his light, he never responds

resumes to watching
me in rising tides 

closes his eyes

when I walk alone

in dark alleyed nights

water to ocean, wind to storm

fuel to fire

out of desire
a new moon is born

alpine mornings

I lighted an incense

to remember

alpine mornings

you desire

the mountain glow

can u imagine

to lie on a track

with a tin drum

trains keep running

over you, humming

all you can do is

to keep drumming

keep drumming

what withholds you

to stay another night

the orange light

withholds

I cannot go

where I would

they say that I am cruel

they say that I

around my neck

I wear a chain, nurtured

from the underground

it was just another conversation

little talks, look alike

no idea how much we have grasped

or slightly understood

a curse in disguise

touching my shoulder

cold fingers slipping through

the rain keeps coming

down the mountain slope

in that direction

it might even flow

they stare

at me and then at you

and then

I recognize

this is the curse

of being no stranger

I want to touch

without coming closer

I want to

think about you

you want surprise

where I can

see nothing new

I guess I’ve seen too much

layers of layers of

faked promises where

nothing holds true 

everything turns

it doesn’t matter which image I open

there’s always her

with a black monkey

on the shoulder and a black cat

she’s looking right at me

a black crow on her chest

leaves growing from tissue

summer is almost gone and

everything turns 

from olive to amber 

Slowly driving by

When I opened the letter

to find out about you

I went for Voodoo

dolls and wild magic

I wanted you to die

under a car

slowly driving by

driving over you

The doll had your name

and needles in the chest

impaling your centre of

black love

Tar drops

from my eyes

into your lung

I could think of nothing

but your head

choking under boiling water

Now you are far and gone

and still find your way

back into my writing

I don’t hate you

for what you have done

to me or another one

I hate you for being

in my memory

of me wasting time

loving you

fighting you

leaving you

regretting you

cursing you

hating

you as if I had

nothing else to do

Who made who

it’s time

to make undone

Busy

The yard is shabby
I’m looking good
In the pane
Fuck it all
This place is a dump
Switching fronts
Keeping myself busy
With mind games
Only toys and little boys
There is nothing real here
I need to get wasted
I need to get drunk

I want to have a feast

I want to burn
My fingers and tongue
My lips are two blisters
I want to smoke
That pack in the car
Sealed off and waste
One wing of my lung

I want to speed
Into that trunk and break
My legs
Bleeding, feeding
Those roots and
I want to eat
Those leaves and swallow
All at once

I want to pull
My hair until the skull is numb
I want to have a feast
I want to
Get drunk on you
And sleep
In your arms dying
Till you pull that fucking thing
Out of me dying
Till the pain is gone
I'm fine I am done

Nothing of value

I remember the deer

A fawn we called Bambi

Not very original but it had

A cut off leg of

Glass or maybe china

Or was it plastic, most likely

Nothing of value, just

Part of the interior

Standing on the rack

Under the cross, Jesus

Watching over it

When we sat to learn

From textbooks and

Also in the late afternoons

And nights, deserted rooms

The deer never slept

Neither did Jesus

He kept suffering

From nails in his bones

And we kept him there

Target of daily prayers

We would make fun of it

The fawn, surrogate of the cross

Who could smile at Jesus
Looking down at us like that

Bambi never complained

Maybe some of us prayed

For the leg to grow back

Or the resurrection

I don’t know

Who placed it there

It must have been
An act of desperation

Turkish delight

When the time comes

To lock the doors

Because the Vice

Has put a ban

On laughter

I fear

The destruction of the world

Is very close

It is like in one of those

Dystopian movies

Where someone in charge

Wears a gray face to a gray suit

And explains the strictly

Political scope of freedom

To townspeople

Who listen with open mouths

And half-opened eyes

And then just sleepwalk back home

Mumbling, because nothing

Can be done, except for those

One or two on the rim

Bursting into shouts

Trying to divert

The river of time

But the stream is stronger

Currents underground

Clutch to their tiny boat

Working hard to pull it down

A tumult must be done!

Lighting of torches

Swarming out

Into the distributaries

Who cannot stand the sound

Of a woman’s
Laughter must be drowned