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Passing... Going by, Passing, Minutes, hours, days... Lost to the world, lost to us, Irreversible, One day more of nothing, one day less of everything. I open my eyes, your eyes are closed, I dream, do you? I close my eyes, you open yours, I dream, do you? Flowing numbness invades the senses, The touch, the sight... is pain a sense? Probably it is not, Immune to numbness, pitiful in its vainglory, Boasting arrogantly the meaningless conquest of my mortality, Dying with me, each day closer, Getting there, In days, hours, minutes...

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Thoughts Of You... Seeing you, A shadow passing, softly caressing your brow, Startled you regard... then smiling, eyes you close, because you know, In the blue And placid haven that your eyelids fiercely guard, Splashed a whispered thought, devouring, like a misplaced sunrise shard. Curled your lips In ever wonder at the ripened seed of blaze, Pouring stems of bundled brightness while the skin turns blushing maze, As it creeps Around your body plunging feelers deep your blood, Dressing whispers cloth of thunder, dressing teardrops boiling flood...

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Stamps... I cut a thin slice of heart, It did not hurt, it was so thin... I shaped it, perforated it, made it into a square stamp, Glued it to my email and sent it. You smiled, you were not surprised to get it, Of course not, You picked the thick album out of your computer, Page three thousand four hundred sixty seven, Fifth row, carefully placed it there next to the previous one, So many were there... You leafed through the album's pages, Backwards, throwing glances at this stamp, then this one, Here... this one, a thin slice of heart shaped as a smiley, When I told you I love you for the one thousandth time, What an event it was, you did not even pay attention we were already there... And this one, a tinge of blue merging with the red, When I called you and you were not there... And the red turned blue... when you told me of your pain, And I found your pain painting my heart in your season's colors... The fiery heart shaped one, when I told you I love you for the first time, The flame shaped, when we made love... Back to the first pages, not even slices of heart yet, but dried out drops of blood, Thin stains, telling of the future editions, the future stamps, The red, deep, final editions, A huge collection, Worthless to others, Priceless to you. You answered. I picked your stamp and put it in my album Do you know that most of your heart is already in my album? And mine in yours?

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Bodyrise... Rising from the sea, Blinding me, Hundreds of droplets desperately clinging to your bare skin Then giving in with anguished splash cries to gravitation's hungry fingers, Streaking towards calling mother earth, Exploding in flashes of delight, Their wet hearts sparkling in the beauty of a dazzling last microscopic lightning, The memory of your skin's touch their destruction, Their consuming fire, Their blessed last moment of hell's embrace... Rising from the sea, Rolling in the sand, Millions of silica rocks leaving their warm nests For the scorching nest of your body's landscape, Arrogant mountains, rough plains, precipitous crevices, Cool lakes, Cocooning you in a thick shapeless layer, Molding itself constantly in the ever changing shape of your body, Holding hands, breaking away, newcomers claiming renewed ownership, Grinding against each other, pushing, scrambling for a place close to life, Close to the rivers of melted fire crisscrossing wildly in the depths, Deep underneath your skin clothing, Close to the welcoming softness of your abdicating flesh... Rising from the sea, Wading through the wind, through air, Thousands of miniature skin bumps your only garment, Woven into your skin by long, thin fairy fingers, Competing in beauty with your ruby tipped breasts, Pitting their numerous armies in a long battle for supremacy Then giving in to the body's call And adorning rather than fighting along your thighs, back, Battling for a place of honor round your nipples' roots, A wild, rugged landscape, Rippling with the pleasures of freshness carried by a caressing sea breath, The forests of soft hair along their crests undulating like proud flags, Cool shadows in the endless valleys, Miniature sunshines reflecting from their salt crystal tipped peaks... Then I came. Wiped the water, Brushed away the sand, Set fire to your skin, Made love to you Conquering your mountains, valleys, wild landscape... I, the conqueror. You, my master.

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Mixed Senses... The smile hanging at the corners of your eyes, A tear sliding from your lips, Your voice... I can taste it, Smooth, sweet, rolling lazily in my mouth, Tasting like music, Like the perfume of your thoughts, Drunken with the whiffs of lust emanating from the depths of your passion, Touching your blue, Your skin glistening with the sweat of fulfilling the promise, I see the salty smell, Enveloping me, blinding my ears, Deafening my eyes, Oh, the smell of you, the taste, the sound, The sight, The touch, Drunken beyond return and reason, In a world of my own, Where senses lose meaning And my only link to reality is one single window... Illusion... Then reality crudely kicks in, And smell is smell, and sight is sight, And pain unending...

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Bleeding... She is bleeding, To death. Her body wound opening a gushing cut in her spirit, Ripping like a bottomless ravine the landscape of her soul, Wide mouthed, rough edged, shrieking While dreams fly away, Hopes dwindle to nothing, Tomorrows absorb a lusterless blue crust, And consuming passion turns to candle flicker... I try to cover the opening, With my hands, feet, my whole body, Clutching at her passing dreams and hopes, Trying to grab some tomorrows, Some sparks of the dimming passion... She smiles, she knows, she regrets, And she walks through my fields, through her garden, Picking my flowers, inhaling their fragrance, And dying, Each breath a bit of poison, A bit of why, of if, of could have been, of never. And I let her go, knowing That my only right Is being part of the departing dreams, And joining her In the wide gaping mouth of eternity Where she promises to wait for me. She won't wait for long. Because the night descending on her landscape Will engulf me, Carrying me to our wedding bed, soft, dark, eternal...

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Killing The Bird... Wild, roaming the skies, the forests, Sneaking like an arrow through mountain high gales And emerging breathlessly on the other side, Swishing like a sword through thick flower highways And climbing effortlessly into the unending blue roof of the world, Sparkles rich, melodies rife, Reveling in the day's birth as in the day's death, Alive... She found me. She sat on my shoulder. She started singing the sun in my ears, She started picking grains from my hand, I fell in love with a wild bird, She loved the warmth, the safety of my shoulder, Taking off for short moments only to land again, In the same spot, Singing, picking grains, singing... One day, she was shot. She could flee, she could fly away, save herself, But she prefered to land back on my shoulder, Red drops of blood staining my shirt, She didn't want to go back into the wilderness, She just waited, singing relentlessly, Looking at me with a question in her eyes, My trembling hand unable to stop the terrible dripping dance, Much as I tried. Till it stopped by itself. She died. And I died with her.

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Black And Letters... Painters can, I envy painters. They can paint skies, They can mix colors, every imaginable shade of blue, violet, red, They can create every unnamed memory of yellow, of green, of lines, Touching the surface, The brush with a random mind of its own An extension of the painter's hand, heart, Flowing in a unique stream of shapeless events Frozen forever in a time frame of their own, For eyes to absorb, To feel, to touch, to drown... Painters are allowed, I envy painters. They are allowed to describe shapes, Bodies, Intimately touching forbidden corners, Forgotten corners, The softness of an offered breast, The roundness of a body skyline, The fire of burning passion under closed eyelids, Details blinding, clutching at senses, Shapes permeated by an overwhelming desire, For eyes to follow, To imagine, to dream... Poets can not. Poets are not allowed. Poets are given one color, black, A white canvas, A few letters, One pen. Poets are not painters. Can poets paint? Can they break the black into dazzling rainbows, Are they allowed to touch intimacy, Touch, describe, show, Can eyes follow the poet's brush? Can poets paint? I met you. And you went through the pains of showing me how to see my black, How to hold my hand, read the letters, How to use my mind's infant brushes and teach them, Teach them to break the black, to break the letters, Break their mixture into all the bluish tones of the skies, The purple tones of sunset and blood, The kaleidoscope tones of flower beds drowning under butterfly clouds, Teach them to paint a breast, a smiling mouth, a quivering lip, To mix black and mix letters and burn the white of the canvas Into smoldering charred witness to the fires of passion. You taught me. The beauty of the prettiest, wildest of all colors, The colors of momentary change, Of shared dreams, Of fading far away whispers, The colors of your choice, My colors. Our colors. I don't envy painters. You taught me the beauty of my colors. Black. And letters.

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Other Flowers... Plastic. Waxed paper. Painted silk. Beautiful flowers, Fleurs de lis in shades of stained white and fading orange, Roses in perfect reds and whites and yellows, Carnations shapelessly shaped in copies of self, Artistic perfection, unforgettable, Beautiful, ageless, eternal. Lifeless. Plastic. Waxed paper. Painted silk. Flesh. Blood. A beautiful flower, Colored by sun burn, painted by shyness blush, Sprinkled by smiles, Beautiful, aging, short lived. Alive. Flesh. Blood. I made my choice. Short lived. Alive.

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Rain... I waited for you, In the rain, I made a special request to heaven's orderlies And they agreed to the deal - We'll provide the rain, Then we'll take whatever we wish. It was fine with me - You provide the rain and then take whatever you wish, What do I have that is of such value to you Compared to your rain for me?... I waited for you, In the rain, Head up to the sky, Mouth open, eyes open, Arms stretched out to the sides of my naked body, Drinking, absorbing, Feet deep in the warm mud of puddles mixing with leaves, Cool drops drilling into my body, Tickling rivulets pouring down my skin, Small blobs building along the thinning extremities of hair ends Till the call of the long fall to earth became too strong a burden Rushing them to an awaiting death... Waiting for you to come, To run your wet fingertips through my hair, along my spine, my legs, Your wet arms encircling my waist, Your wet breasts rubbing against my trembling chest, Our wet bodies crushing with a terrible splash into the stinging wet grass In the spasms of wet love... I waited for you, In the rain. You didn't come. And the rain is over, And dark sunshine pours into the world, And the heavenly orderlies are over to this side claiming their due. I will pay, What do I have of any value to them? My life? They are welcome, There is no rain in my life anymore.

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Planes... Two lives, Two planes, Separated by intricate mathematics of chance and probability, Unknown formulas which created the yesterdays Unknown rules governing the tomorrows, The today fuzzy and amorphous. I tried to develop the knowledge, To find the secret tunnels connecting the planes, Trying parallel universes, magical words, unrealities, Filling pages upon pages with trial and error experiments, Then scrapping pages upon pages of useless information, All the while the one incorruptible arbiter indifferently marking points against me, Time, Marking minutes, hours, days... Misery, pain... Is this the only secret passage Allowing me to redefine the laws of this world, Bringing the two evolving planes within touch of each other? Within... contact, Blinding explosion... End? Beginning? I keep searching, Impossibilities are endless, One solution only, unknown, Will the incorruptible arbiter allow for just one bit of corruption, Just enough to tell me I will get there... ever... or never?

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Folly... Floating dust in blinding sunshine, Random patterns void of shape, Twirling whiffs my sight assailing, Senseless doubts my reason rape. Rushing shapes stream through my vision, Blurred the noise, and strange the smells, Treading marks my brain adorning, Crawling pain the longing tells. There, beyond my mortal weakness Lies a land so sharp and clear, In my folly sunken senses All I feel is cold and fear.

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Dreams, Wishes, Hope, Luck, Reality... Dreams, I know the definition of dreams, Realities locked in the infinite labyrinths of our minds Created by the spark of God burning in each of us, Rushing through the infinite maze at a volition of their own, Times uncontrollable, times unavoidable, times painful, Times beautifully colored with spring, with summer, With falling leaves, snow, sparkling springs, Heart linking to mind linking to life, A world beyond reach, Further away than the moon, than the stars, All the laws of the world we know, The laws of dreams we do not, So close to us, so remote, So unattainable. Wishes, I know the definition of wishes, Paths from dreams to reality, Paths we want to create, to destroy, Sometimes calling them prayers, Other times calling them curses, songs, whispers, Poems, Holding hands, Colorful sunsets, smiles, promises of forever, The bridge anchored into the unattainable, Stretching over the wide impossible, And endlessly searching for a foothold into slippery reality's banks. Hope, I know the definition of hope, Dreams inside dreams, Dreams inside wishes, Cobwebs hiding sight and reason and reality, Holding in place castles hanging above crevasses, Clothing crumbling mountains with an indestructible net, Linking dragons' might to depths of despair And invoking the outer worldly into this world to keep the link intact, To blow power in the dragons, To ease the weight of despair, To open the one way door from dream to reality. Luck, I know the definition of luck, When the cobwebs turn steel mesh, And the door opens, And one spark of the dream pours into reality, And the door closes again, Proving The meaningless lottery of life. Reality, I know the definition of reality. Dream stays dream, Wish stays prayer, Hope stays pain, And luck is a statistical event void of poetry, beauty, and warmth.

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Embrace... Then she tumbled down the mountain, Rolling pebble sharp of edge, First a tinkle, then a rumble, Then a thunder joined its pledge, Stone to rock, then mighty boulders, Half a mountain pouring down, Splitting trunks and crackling timber, Breaks the mountain's forest crown, Deep the valley I am waiting, Red my roses painted blood, Thorns alight and petals shining, Stumbles on the crushing flood, To the raving raging fury Arms I open grinning wild, Trough cascading mud and glory Wading like a brainless child, Till I smother warm and tender And my garden gently dries, And a path the pebble's burning Till against my heart it dies.

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Ghosts... You sensed me behind your shoulder, You could not see me, But you sensed me, You turned your head back sharply, wildly, Like an animal, Your eyes red and swollen, Your lips drawn in a mix of snarl, grin and hope, Your fingers groped at empty space trying to get hold of that presence, You knew I am there, I returned, I was never away yet I returned, And you lifted your head letting my invisible lips touch your neck, And you opened your shirt letting my invisible hands grab your breasts, And you opened your lips letting my invisible teeth bite them, You sighed, you moaned, Unconcerned about those around you, They, invisible to you the way I was, But me... you could feel, you could feel my touch, You could feel no one's touch but mine, As I ravaged your body in senseless savagery, As your laughter suddenly roared like a tigress her hunger satisfied, As you finally cuddled against my disembodied presence And together we floated home...

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Who Said Sad Is Blue?... Who said sad is blue? Sad is sunny. Hordes of undisciplined rays invading darkest corners, Hordes of drooling babies hungrily clutching mother's breast, Hordes of mad butterflies conquering horizon to horizon. Sad is tender. Tender rays exploding in colored waterfalls at sharp glass edges, Tender babies kicking mindlessly at a world desperately waiting for them, Tender butterflies living one lifetime between one sunrise to one sunset. Sad is music. Rays plucking at closed eyelids, Babies singing with toothless mouths, Butterflies dancing at a tune they are lone to hear. Sad is sunshine, tenderness, music... without you.

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Mirage... Round and round my arms were going, Round your body crawling, flowing, Hungry snakes of awesome power Desperate your body's flower       To devour... In my cradle's muscled prison, Bare of mind and bare of reason, Sleeps your body bleeding power, Slowly melting in a flower       To devour... Then my coils I open slowly, Sinful thoughts allied with holy, As I strike with passion's power The awaking gentle flower       To devour... Gone the storm into the thunder While my body's torn asunder By the dream's decaying power Where's this illusory flower       To devour?...

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Trains... Watched the train The train is parting Parting way into the west, Wish I was I was the flower Flower tight against your chest... Watched the smoke The smoke is lifting Lifting way into the sky, Wish I was I was the flower Flower drying in your eye... Watched the lamp The lamp is dying Dying way the one-way trail, Wish I was I was the flower Flower squashed upon the rail... Yes I do, I do remember as the wagons rolled in town Wagons rolled one starlit evening masking moon's eternal crown, Down you came, you came forever to seed springs into my life To seed springs into my winters till the clouds are flowers rife. Yes I do, I do remember as your sight my wishes shaped As your sight the dying embers of my passion wildly raped, Cloaked in beads, in beads of rolling gold along a moonbeam thread Gold along despairing fingers as the bodies fire wed. Yes I do, I do remember as you dressed in naked skin As you dressed in snow white satin glowing in your sated sin, Errs a heart, a heart is lonesome as a wagon swallows you Lonesome is my orphaned glory recollecting... yes, I do... Watched the train The train is parting Parting way. An empty nest. Wish I was I was the flower Flower tight against your chest... Watched the smoke The smoke is lifting Lifting way. An empty lie. Wish I was I was the flower Flower drying in your eye... Watched the lamp The lamp is dying Dying way. An empty tale. Wish I was I was the flower Flower squashed upon the rail...

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Erotissimo... Soft light, The darkness stabbed by hundreds of candles spread over the floor, Flames waving, dark thin smoke drawing black shaky lines to the ceiling While your long silk dress flutters around your legs as you move, As you dance to a barely heard all engulfing sound, Your bare feet finding their way among the candles with animal ease, Toes testing the fire for seconds then leaping away in short stabs of pain, The dress Times touching the flame and your hands swiftly putting out the first spark signs, Times flowing upwards carried by the hot smoke, Revealing sharp flesh lines along your knees, Soft flesh lines along your thighs, For long seconds before in mock shame you pull it back down to your ankles. You approach, As I lay down propping my head against the wall, You half pirouette above me, For seconds shadowed glimpses of rounded pieces of heaven blinding my mind Swiftly disappearing inside folds of partly charred waves of silk, You pirouette again and again, Painful wants hitting me again and again When you land your burden of femininity upon my chest, My face lost in the folds of your garment, One single thin layer separating my senses from the shadowed mysteries of your body, Drunkenly taking in the mix of sweet roses soap smell And wild female hunger fragrance. You roll on the couch, alongside me, your thighs revealed, Your left shoulder strap fallen from the snowy heights of your shoulder, Your eyes reflecting the hundreds of flames in a sea of awakening fearsome fire, I see your dress disintegrating before my eyes in one magician's move, Soft mounds of flesh dressing your chest proudly stabbing the air with their fire tips Filling my lungs with ancient sinful blaze, while my eyes follow their punishing trail Down the lines of your navel, your curving waist, Your hidden corners of revealed passion, Flickering shadows enacting visions of winged dragons about to rip my chest As you lean towards me, above me, tempting my senses into insane oblivion, Your flesh shivering with delayed lust, Controlled madness pouring from your lips over my yielding hard body, I lie in wait, I count every single hair on your eyelashes, your eyebrows Watching fearfully the incisive whiteness of your teeth approaching my mouth, Biting deep till we both feel the dripping blood running down my chin, Terrible pain mingled with winds of lust as you search my body, Finding undeniable evidence to a crime about to happen, Moving my arms around your back Begging me to squash you inside the thickness of my skin, into my body, Letting scorching breath burn my eyelids into the misery of ending lust, Of ending passion, Of quiet, contentment, love. Your head on my chest. My fingertips counting the endless traces of dying pleasure As they roll and roll and roll along the uncovered paths of your skin.

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Rider... Riding, riding, riding, riding, Nightlong riding, daylong hiding, Garments torn of lowly beggar, In his folds a long sharp dagger, Long the ridges, down the valleys, Through wild forests' shadowed alleys, Riding, hiding, riding, hiding, Endless miles the fury striding,         Riding... Trotting, trotting, trotting trotting, Endless trotting, ceaseless frothing, Beats the hoof its silent thunder Tearing night from night asunder, Long the rivers, down the mountains, Cutting paths through dirty fountains, Trotting, frothing, trotting, frothing, Frozen sea in eyesight clotting,         Trotting... Sweating, sweating, sweating, sweating, Mare a sweating, mind a fretting, Hind of lashes vicious visions Ripping heart with deep incisions Through the senses pouring ire While his seeing sword and fire, Sweating, fretting, sweating, fretting, Dripping blood the saddle wetting,         Sweating... Night has fallen, fallen, fallen, moonless skies adorn the trek, Shivers run from hoof to rider as he moves through wreck, through wreck, Sharp the stench, the stench, the rubble steaming up through clouds of dust, Bolts the horse, his drying gashes breaking crust, then crust, then crust. Kneels the rider side of timber, timber, timber, charred to stone, Trembling hands pick piece of clothing, clothing, clothing, bone, and bone, Little, little, copper, copper, shoe, and shoe, and ring, and ring, Eyes unseeing, eyes unseeing, linen dress and beads on string. Softly, softly, tender, tender, crumbling embers out of way, Withered flesh from pools of darkness, darkness, darkness, come away, Blooms the pain in silence, silence, silence screaming ripping chest, Wife, and son, and daughter, daughter, dog, and dog, to lay to rest. Mounds of earth, of earth are steaming lined beyond the forest edge, Horse is snorting, man is howling, howling, howling raging pledge Red be flowing, red be flowing, steaming rivers reeking death, As through mind, through mind, through body cuts a breeze of icing breath. What's this noise like crawling, crawling, crawling logs on rugged ground, What's this feel of scratching, scratching, scratching nails through whining sound? Way you go, you cruel vision, vision, vision born in hell, Life is none, is none, is buried draped in choking clouds of smell. From his crouching, crouching posture swollen eyes he lifts, he lifts, Out the depths, the depths of forest one huge shape towards him drifts, As his hand, his hand the sharpness of the metal, metal grabs Limping, limping, limping nears him and the muzzle softly jabs. "Ursus, Ursus, faithful servant, strong of mind and low of scowl, Lion hearted, lion hearted, sharp of fang and deep of growl, Was your power, power, power, you and brothers fearsome two Not enough the deadly, deadly, deadly cowards to subdue?" Slowly back into the forest, to the forest limps the dog, Dark the puss his back adorning thickened, thickened stinking fog, Till a clump of thorny bushes where he falls, he falls, he lies, Near a pair of dirty, dirty, dirty cheeks and frightened eyes. Deep the spasm, the spasm of torment running cross the rider's chest, As his fragile, fragile daughter picks to heart from thorny nest, Five her winters, five her winters, only seed to live through slay, Flowing tears for counted moments quell the grief, the grief away. Dark the forest, dark the forest, cool the shadow, cool the shadow, Way beyond the edge of forest, hidden meadow, meadow, meadow, Low the fire, boils the water, gentle, gentle deadly hands Feed the child, the wounds are scrapping, round the dog roll bands, roll bands. Seven days, then days more seven, seven nights, then nights, then nights, Sneaking through forgotten passes, valleys, valleys, heights, and heights, Reaching that forgotten cottage, cottage, cottage, poor of shape, Rich in love of man and woman, seven babes, and seven babes. On the porch he sits his baby, baby, baby sweet of cheek, In his eye the hopeless morrow, painted grey, and bleak, and bleak, One far look, far look, he watches as the woman hugs the child, And his eye stones trace of softness, and his heart roves wild, roves wild. Back his footsteps, back his footsteps, back his footsteps man, horse, dog, One long moment, one long moment by the mounds and scattered log, Spreading seeds of wildest berry, berry, berry top the ground, Last regard he slowly passes, mound, then mound, then mound, then mound. Sharp the dagger, long and deadly, deadly, deadly sharp of tang, Sharp the fang, wild mean and deadly dog and fang, and fang, and fang, Sharp the nail, short hard and deadly dressing hoof, then hoof, then hoof, Shivers night's unseeing kingdom, shivers hell's star lighted roof. Sweating, sweating, sweating, sweating, Mare a sweating, mind a fretting, Red the fury, hooves, and gallop, Heaving chests as break and scallop, Through the senses pouring ire, Red be flowing hot like fire, Sweating, fretting, sweating, fretting, Endless blood the saddle wetting,         Sweating... Trotting, trotting, trotting trotting, Endless trotting, ceaseless frothing, White the fury, fang, and growling, Ripping throats affrighted howling, Long the rivers, down the mountains, Red be flowing down the fountains, Trotting, frothing, trotting, frothing, Endless cold the eyesight clotting,         Trotting... Riding, riding, riding, riding, Nightlong riding, daylong hiding, Black the fury, black the dagger, Slashing wildly lofty swagger, Long the ridges, down the valleys, Red be flowing long the alleys, Riding, hiding, riding, hiding, Endlessly the fury striding,         Riding...

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