Tonight, Somewhere

Somewhere in a cave

Beyond the mountains

Sleeps the sun

And dreams of her next dawn;

/

She never rises higher

Than she needs to

And never falls below

The long line of the ocean

/

Somewhere in a cage

Beyond what’s real

Thrashes about in fever

A restless, greedy mind

/

Praying for what’s coming

To be better than what is gone,

And for the next high to be worth

The subsequent – inevitable – crash

You Would Never Listen

Sleep like a star in the sky,
Your glow,
Frozen in flight,
/
Where it’s cold, mortally cold,
Where it’s cold
Forever
/
Don’t be afraid of the wind –
It won’t pierce you,
/
Don’t be afraid of the snow –
It won’t hide
/
You from the heart, which continues
To love you
/
Or from the eyes, which still search
For your light
/
Fear not the ice for soon
You’ll become like it,
/
Solid yet frail under the touch
Of warmth,
/
Fear not the rocks, which, like you,
Rest suspended
/
In capsules of time till they
Suddenly fall
/
Dread not my voice or the words
I am saying,
/
Breathe through the pain
They inspire in you;
/
This lullaby is for those,
Already sleeping,
/
I let you hear it
Only because I knew
/
You would
Never listen

But…

You sit by my bedside like vultures

And you grasp my hands tight, when I

Pretend that I have the strength to

Step out of your house – into life

/

You sing to me songs of oblivion;

When I can no longer fight off sleep,

You fill my dreams to the brim

With what sometimes may seem

Like an escape, a grim kind of freedom

/

You drag my thoughts downwards with you,

Whispering, ‘you are already gone’;

Ghosts and demons of hope,

You’ve bound me with the strongest rope,

Through the pain it’s just you I can hear

/

And I’m barely holding on;

And I’m all but going insane;

I’m forgetting my loved ones’ names

And how good it felt to be loved;

And you say to me: ‘it’s ok’,

And I almost believe you, but…

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

/

Tonight

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