The Circle

Like the ice off the earth
In spring,
Like a lie in the presence
Of truth,
Like dry ink off an old
I can feel melting off me
My face,
And my heart I can sense
Every wrinkle and tear,
Every smile,
With whose help it would
Speak to the world,
And who’d pass to it
The world’s reply
As I watch my hands wither
Like leaves,
That I’d gather in bouquets
Each fall,
I recall what a joy it once was
To hold
Rock and snow, and the sunset glow
Over the ocean
As if sculpted from
Alien ash,
My legs, too, crumble
With the wall of time,
And the winter wind
Carries away
All that’s always been his –
Never mine

Count to Nine

Don’t close your eyes – you’ll never wake up,

Don’t drop your head, don’t let your knees bend

Under the weight of what has been done

To you, nor of the guilt for the harm you did;


Wait! Do not fall asleep on me now!

There may be something out there that will

Yet touch your heart – perhaps, another wild dream

For which you’ll need your strength, love and grit;


Do not let go, although you’re so are tired!

Chase out the ghost of death from your eyes!

I dare you to survive in spite of all,

I know you’re all but gone… Turn around!


Fight for yourself, like I know you can!

No, not because you want to but just

Because it is your nature – you must,

Until you’re swallowed by the hungry ground


I will not judge when you learn to walk

Again; I will not look when you have to cry,

You know you have been given nine lives:

Nine agonizing births, and nine deaths,


So count to nine, and rise one more time

Without a Weakness

I step over the faded line, dividing

The realm of trust, built of my blind misunderstandings,

And this of the unknown paths I must tread on;

I’m certain, now there’s none and naught to guide me;


No light will shine into the air, which, stiff and heavy,

Settles in my chest, changing me forever,

Into a faceless embodiment of courage; the absence

Of hope should help me bear this utter darkness;


I cannot see what nightmares come alive where

I make my way, I can’t afford to dread them:

They help to build my fortress without entrance,

They turn my heart into a rock that can’t be moved;


Behind me, in a haze, still standing,

There is the house of lies from which I ran, and

In its small windows I still glimpse the candles’

Flickering light: their faint warmth once entranced me;


I watch the flames and shadows shake and tremble,

And laugh through tears, for now that ‘me’ is nonexistent;

The new one is a faultless stronghold, built to safeguard

What was your heart – what’s now my heart without a weakness

Talk to Her

He said:

I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you:

I had neither the courage, nor the time,

And nor the love, and nor the substance necessary

To stand between you and the monsters,

Devouring your feverish, enchanted mind;


She said:

I understand and do not blame you,

I, too, you see, lacked all the things you lack:

I ran faster than ever-speeding seconds,

Away from ruthlessly incomprehensible responses

To questions that I read between the lines upon my hands


He said:

I thought, you would, as always,

Save yourself…


She said:

I tried, as always, but that night, somehow,

I failed

The Cocoon










This night,

It hasn’t dressed me for the morning:

I’m still in a cocoon

Of interwoven blacks and blues


Staring at dawn,

I cannot feel daylight returning,

Or touching me –

It’s just a colour, of no use


To me,

A terribly disturbed spectator,

Watching an artist’s brush,

Envying him his muse


To me,

Self-tried and sentenced perpetrator,

Sharing the maze-like cell

With my self-righteous jury



I put my hands over my eyes and

I sew them up

With threads as strong as needles


I lock my nightmares

From the outside world within me:

They’ll be

The only things I see for years


I’ll write of them

And paint them with my blind hands;

One day

I’ll hear you ask me: ‘what is that?’


I won’t reply;

With monsters pushing through

My numb lips,

I’ll go to sleep in my cocoon instead