At the Feeder

unexpected bird

a January squirrel

- cheeky acrobat

On this Longest Day of the Year...

day takes

its sweet time

to turn into night
sneakily

magic seeps

into

mundanity

until

there is only

wonder

Old Chick

well, it seems as if the chick has misplaced her quill

which shouldn’t really be such a big deal

or, perhaps, she has just lost her wit

hang in here for a while — while she looks for it

The Chick is ten years old today. Yay! Wow! Yay? Wow?

30 years

Time has turned

blunt

the claws of your

absence

Now

when I think of you

it is just sweetness

unmarred

by the bitterness

of tears

First Day of Autumn 2016

 image belongs to Under the Treetops

oh, no, it’s not that I don’t like Autumn
I find her quite aesthetically pleasing—
a painter of inimitable talent
concocter of tart perfumes
and sweet essences
a virtuoso of rustlings
and caws—
but I think I can see
beyond her masks
of reds and golds
a cruel magician casting
the last illusion of bounty
the great hope of renewal
for our fearful souls
before it’s all gone
in the anticlimactic finale of
a flamboyant show
and all that’s left is
just the end

Ripe

inverted grapes
flirting with the sky
-already drunk
with the promise
of summer

Why Not

what a thorough disappointment

this absence of magic

this mundaneness

Even if they existed

the vampires, the angels

what makes you think

you’d be their darling

and not their victim?

even so... even so...

you know what I mean

I’m talking about real magic

not the stupefying wonder of a

hydromedusa

or the heartbreaking beauty

of Für Elise

how about some faeries, some werewolves

some wish-fulfilling genies

even the ones who trick you

if you’re no expert

at formulating wishes

why are we condemned to dullness

in this miraculous universe?

Isn’t the Universe magical enough for you?

Every single amoeba, every single star?

yes... yes... but...

if there exist such magical things

as cells splitting

into new cells

and helium burning up there

in the sky

why not also portals to other dimensions?

why not time travel?

yes, why not time travel?

why not...

Chick with a Quill turns 9 years old today...

Things

you see

there are these things that we see

or things that we think we see

things that we’ve been taught to see

every day things

every life things 

meant to be

mundane

comforting in their mundaneness

and then

there are the things that we don’t see

things that hide in the cracks

of this thing

that we call reality

the real things

harsh things

not meant to be reached

alien

crushing in their alienness

that only in dreams

perhaps

we can glimpse

http://celdigitalarts.com/?portfolio-category=art

 

One Day

image by pierrepaul43 on flickr

one day

the masks simply won’t

hold together anymore

the mask of happiness

the mask of enthusiasm

the mask of goodness

eroded

by tears

by sweat

by the uncontrollable

laughter

the mask of indifference

the mask of compassion

the mask of sadness

will peel off

like old paint

one day

it will be just my

unrecognizable 

face

Our Life

photo from www.lamag.com

stand to attention

life is passing by

in a huge float

a floral parade

your life her life my life

look how beautiful it is

look at all those dreams

like helium balloons

clap laugh cry clap

now it disappears around the corner

now it’s gone

Dream of Love

photograph taken almost one year ago in Central Park, Manhattan

this is my hope

to sleep and dream of you

and have your smile

which while awake knows not of me

know me alone

and have this dream

in which your eyes

find —raw— in mine

the very essence

of your love

keep warm my soul

until I dream again

of you

Another Winter

image belongs to BaxiaArt

white birds

flock from heavens

howling savage songs

piercing eyes

—still incredulous—

with their beaks like needles

sewing trees and squirrels

into stillness

black birds

rise from earth

to meet them

in mad whirlwinds

of war and play

heaven and earth are one

the same harsh stars

above and below

only inside

a light

Almost

photo from http://photorator.com/

sometimes the “real” reality

seems almost within grasp

like a world of wonders

– or perhaps of horrors –

glimpsed just below the thin

layer of ice on a lake

so close

so close

makes you wonder

if only you could lie down

with your bare heart

and melt this ice

of the paradigm

would you have your

aha moment?

would you “know” at last?

(would you achieve more than

catching a cold?)

 

Still Far Away

Death is still far away

let us indulge in

the little things

let us cocoon ourselves

in the permanence of tomorrows

as if we still had infinity

ahead of us

(maybe we do)

let us plan

thousands of

little futures

in preparation of

our glorious one

yes, that one,

the one that’s yet to come

the one that will come

Death is (still/maybe/not that) far away...

Bunny Time

Now it blinks here

Soft and fragrant

Daydreams in a bed of clover

Now it stretches

Into shadows

Onto crunchy forest floor

Clover

Moon

Then, Moon and clover

Brother bunny

You and me

 (to a sweet bunny on this longest day of 2014)

Life

hey

you gotta do

what you gotta do

you gotta

run with it

spin a tune to it

dance to it

bite it

cry for it

laugh at it

jive with it

you gotta do

what you gotta do

yeah

you gotta

live it

Life

image from The Translation of Language and Culture

Good-bye 2013

I couldn't resist putting together some titles for one last spooky little 'poem.' Some of these books I've read this year, others I'm looking forward to reading in 2014.

The Vampire Tarot

bloodfever,

forgotten songs

of  love and death -

(I am)

immortal

until I die

(on)

the isle of blood,

(until)

these broken stars

let the right one in

Now that 2013 is coming to an end, I'd like to thank all of my blogging friends for taking the time to visit this place and to share their thoughts on what they've seen here. Your presence is always, always, always very much appreciated!

May the New Year 2014 bring to you, and to everybody else, only good things, among them love and good health, and wishes come true to your heart's desire.

Happy New Year!

First Snow in November

The Winter Queen is dancing

above the town

When she sways

and swirls

to the music

of angels

or of the spheres,

her ball gown

-regal as she is-

sheds pearls and diamonds

on her subjects

They make luxurious jackets

for trees and squirrels

and turn into hot kisses 

on my eyelids


 
 My backyard on this evening of November 27th, 2013

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends!!!

The Flying Dutchman Redivivus

Come…
Come…
Come…

What whisper summons me?

Is it the wind

in drying leaves?

Come to me…

Whispers of doom,

or hoot of owls

or howls of wolves?

Come...

I am coming, yes…

The whispers grow,

and whirl, and growl…

In their cold embrace,

I glide

on the dark shore,

in noctambulous walk.

The sea - a beast of tar -

sends rumbling surf,

torn veils

of phantom brides,

onto the sand.

Come to me…

From far, from near,

a song of death

and love

entwined.

I am here…

I see the ghostly ship,

its masts, and spars, and sails

bleak statues of decay,

no living soul on it

yet full of empty souls.

My home,

to make of thee?

A stir in me…

Run, I could

still run away!

Too late,

the boat slides

nearer.

My bride… Come…

Ghosts

ply the oars.

And at its bow

I see your eyes of fire

bear down on me

with sweet

infernal

love.

Like in a dream,

I step into the waves.

Come…

I’m coming…

My robes are heavy

chains held by Okeanos.

Unearthly arms of fog

extend to help me.

How proud you are,

tall at the prow,

your gaze of embers

lights your

handsome face -

a beacon

in my night.

Come quicker… Hurry…

But what is this?

I falter,

my eyes still

in your hypnotic grasp.

Shouts, vile barks,

thunder of guns

awaken me, while

torches light the sand.

The sea’s aflame.

The spectral boat

is fading,

multitudes close in.

A step

and then another,

The sea embraces me.

Come…

I almost touch your hand.

Strong voices call my name,

voices alive,

not... dead…

My struggle’s vain

I’m dragged away

pulled from your ghostly grip

by warm, live arms of men.

I know, my darling,

all is lost,

until next time…

And, as I close my eyes

against the burning night,

carried afar,

your waning whisper echoes

on my face,

Next time…

This is my entry for Haunting October Blogfest. This poem has appeared on this blog exactly six years ago, as part of my first Halloween in the blogosphere... The painting of the ship belongs to Marco Hassman at Last Travel Art. Comments are, as always, most welcome. Happy Scares!

I Wish

I wish they were true

these things

I’ve been telling you

to soften your worries

that there are only the trees

whipping the roof

with their fleshless arms

only the wind’s fingers

strumming old shutters

to forlorn melodies

only aged floorboards

-nothing else, what else-

moaning slowly

under the bitter

October air

(not the house

not this house

coming to life)

(you are such a nice boy

-a luminous soul-

so trusting)

I wish you hadn’t lost

your way

in these woods

I wish you hadn’t seen

in my eyes

the shelter you were seeking

instead of

the nightmares

(and the wine

the sweet wine of abandon-

I wish you hadn’t been that thirsty)

if only I could tell you

to run away

as I am going out

-I left the door unlocked this time-

and you’re falling asleep

and the house gets ready

to feast

http://abstract.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/840136/