Words Apart

I
you
are
to be
  as    is


snowflake, light eyelash
  marshmallow beams
 a feather in forgetful wind
parachuting

 reaching the vigor
 like a gentle whisper
 eyes wide of woolly,
 floating search for haven
 to bright up  life

indifference


 forever

my life, your life
royalty of  dignity
applauded with marvel
charming as ever, delicate
decency welcomed
magic of the day

 tarmac, cement, glass, fabric
airplane miles and with
 window seat
craving
abundantly, excessively
your daze  of rays
of light, lights
 my light white, with
feathery existence


of how many?
       

  concentration chips
eyes shut,
again at tranquility
 and thrown into
  arrival
 like falling  from the sky
 drawn from a cloud
....and then
gradually dive in

watch, gaze

 how many    wasted ? 

 in elsewhere

life
 from very first  day
a zillion
on a breast
in slow motion
a hungry baby
suckles overtly
year after years
to bend and
to succumb
to last ever glance
 through nightmare


absolute ignore
 

eats light 
Wet gaze like in:
   cease to oblivion
 gliding to angel's arms open
 here "you are safe now"


 no words
to  say
to this

*******************

Fun contest taking one of old poems and using its words  and making new but with totally different meaning. I took the words of The Very First Time and came up with this...maybe not a masterpiece but i'm proud and it was creative

_____________________

ADDED: (else)where, to, tarmac, cement, glass, fabric, 2xlife, search
COMBINED: in difference
NOT USED: an an

HUNGRY=CRAVING
DIGNITY=DECENCY
USED EVERY POINTS COMMAS WHATEVER THEY'RE CALLED

Lost On The Ways of Life Without Emergency

Always have this perceived so;
life to be a journey
crossroads of a choice
for me on the way
to a goal

destination's a riddle of 
intersections' mishmash
varieties of other
lives

a path, a way or an avenue
none to give a peak
to live a little
turn and 
renew

irreversible crossing invariably
are for prospectors of live
so choose with care
hopeful, determined 
or in chance

one-way streets are full of
unplanned dreams
or complex
issues

rules of the road, convenient 
to other,
do not apply 
or even exist
ticket of lottery 
you will have in your hand

so trust yourself for it gives 
you a feeling of 
upper hand
laws of life 
hap-hazardous occurrence

algorithm of life is lived
regulations reformulated 
as we stroll on  

-------

with junk of a so called car
I drive along  
given to me once with 
a statement: "no refunds" 
made of rust 
and unforgettable bumps 
clattering noise 
makes mine a home 
like the humming of heart 
with all it's faults   

with little repairs, 
little repairs
repairs
 
oil change made just enough time ago 
not to remember when
dipstick informs we are running low:
insignificance put on a hold
tires we have some 
without we can of the spare one  
throttle can still give us a ticket
if other parts 
fail us not 

most pleasant and relaxing a seat
at least on a driver
and you dared to hump along

ahead somewhere 
we will rest to repair
where, we will find out about  
eventually

we are together 
nonetheless

for now  

The Wait

The wait
time has extended so
and out of place

soon
to a little child
on a long road trip  

be there in a minute
to one smitten in love
on a date, early arrived

"please hold, your call will be answered shortly"
when to do-list consists on nerve breaking
mountain of piled up things

the wait
vacation still weeks
to come

the wait
asks not patience
how do you do?   
how does your waiting hold
and on hold how does your wait do? 

the wait 
like a fuse to Lapland
when here
and always vice versa   

ps. my patience ran out - it's not ready, but i couldn't wait... i'll work it on later... i will, i will
   

Pots And Pans

Cooking with five pans at once
even pots I got two
luckily hobs 
amount only four

children are parroted
hot thing! hot thing!
hobs are covered with guards
we prevent nothing from happening

cleaning on the
same time doing laundry
on bouncing washing machine
vacuum screamingly hissing sound killed 
by squealing fire alarm

watch for this 
       and notice that

have to remember and mind,
learn, to be cautious
and little more 
thorough

or else you 
              will not
    or you 
           will come

with pointer stick slaps
on fingers, directions 
to a good life

I myself can not
          go on anymore

pots and pans I ram
to oven too, the stew
main switch off
                    my head

lids I lock and seal
comfortable cushion
as can only dream

Dreams And Reals And The Gap Between

I embrace her glow
with kisses and caresses
she is to me my perfect mystery
though argued by some
a mere cold rock to be

I have though traveled the world
been in France and Paris too

actually in reality

street artists, baguettes,
bonjour's and oui's
and streets of Amelie's
the atmosphere
portrait...well...

at least pick-pocketed
and panic attacked
under magnificent tower
former happened like jump from the tower
latter torture of climbing up and falling in slow motion

c'est la vie
living reality written
in words allures to 
live in the gap between

-------------------------------------
might even try to continue later this one...
this was first draft to 75 word contest

Quagmires And Dead Ends

Black painted thoughts
beyond the conscious
crammed in my head

no
not enough
out of stock with pity

quagmires and dead ends
frustrations of emptiness
pain that uses no name for itself

shut down mechanism of silence
transition to presence
calmer and colder than death
a life sucked out of joy

I laugh
to me or myself

cry
a dry tearless cry
asleep
in a dream
searching me
diving in my sorrow

Abyss Of Bliss

Bliss

    wandering
       in echoes

tremble of heart

breathe
whispers out

  his scent
with tint of cinnamon
  floating in



               dispersing mind






-------------------------------------
It was a picture prompt of max 20 words.
Had to try it. The pic missing since I lost
it. Try to find it later...

I love you IV

because 
when you reach your hand
and slightly touch
mine
delaying awhile
I know  

Does Anyone Hear Me ! ! !

Stuck
piled up
disorganized
like a backyard shed

equipped too well
with unneeded garbage
and surplus things

verbal maze                 mental
solution converted
                                 to re-entry
eternally yours
                           no recall of signing
accordingly
                             to this condition


                    S     O     S

transferred to

               S          M       S

save my                        soul

I do recall
on a darkest hour
with crumbling fingers
in obscurity of the night
inside me
writing
with
hama beads

Rotten Sad

Love
arbitrary in talk
cemented in seasons
and symbols
over used  worn-out
as if it ever could
conquers all brings back to life
mends bends   does every trick

love
spoiled shunned
yet isn't love all marvel
home of
each man's shivering esteem's urge to find
and be one

love
the power to be
all you need is...

to lose one
lose love
still be loved
to run out of pain
so lost, one does not find
emotions inside

the terror
to look into
your own child's
eyes

    past any description
         for      you

I look back
numb
empty

-------------------------------------------------------------
"I can't feel anything but sadness" was the prompt in contest. I wasn't gonna enter. Hadn't written for couple of days so i started just to dribbling with words; there was a thought (another besides the contest) of writing something nice and positive for a change and started "love" then me hit me and forgot the positive: "arbitrary" and got on making the  dullest lines "conquers all". About then it hit me...the saddest of any possible; something to easily win feeling "anything but sadness". To be crushed so that one feels nothing - there is not a single thing in the world beyond nothing, the power in it!

I finally had idea of writing and just kept on but making true statements on love like "urge to find". We all have it, and to be loved. And "the song" came to mind and i thought this is the time change gears from 5 to REVERSE after   ...   "lose". Afterwards i decided to leave it open but for my sake i'll give here my interpretation. I did write it as lose like to die before time. And to lose love - to lose capability to love after a heavy loss (or dual version: dramatic events in life). Yet "still be loved" as the people around you do no matter.

The terror, this is what hit me in beginning when i was still just dribbling with words. Five years ago i was in the state of mind obliged to experience this "terror". My children were young - in the age that all they know of world is little to compare to the love they know "past any description" for parents. And i had to look them back feeling nothing yet knowing and recognizing that fact at the same time; numb, empty, for many months.

I haven't lost anyone before time but i do have slight idea how it could feel. I was just bruised by me - a bit more heavily then than ever before. Mind is sometimes bit shaky to go out of control.

I like this poem, funny how it started and came to (version 1.0) completion. There was only one word i crossed over a second after writing it. Otherwise non, its here - the dribble

I Love You II

because in your arms
soft and warm
secure I am

and full of fire
is your soul

without you beside me
in moment of night
without sleep I might

The Barren land

I now know there will be no return of
you ever again, maybe

I would rather let it be
and leave you withering away from
my sore veins
medicined far prolonged with your
wawering distorted unbalanced friction of
hues mind has tasted
you in your sublime
rest wasted and thrown away
useless to my yearning
resident in mortality
the barren land

at utter most gives life to a pine
distorted with nothing to root in
measly twisted branches out lack of nutrients
a dwarf birch at most
starving suffering survival
a weakling unable to give strength or
height to climb as to scope beyound to navigate
possibilities in or to another life

you are lost from me, gone, away
simmering life out of me
senseless solitude of my puszta
eating away inside, grinding my mind
by shadows of a black hole

(I do still dream of you, of us)

gone
as life from
barren lands viewed
in moments to marked as beauty
but never in time to nurture any more life
blackest of holes of my puszta
forlorn darker than pain
strive away under
smile without
roots 

so weak to have requirements of
shine
nor last to give or to receive any
which it was to harvest, designed

scales of greys have blanketed skies for months, longer
oppressing all under, nascent hope or movement
skies get under your skin, only to disturb and turmoil
I wait, though it be
for sake of waste

clouds to darken beyond the darkest of any black
fire from raging thunders of light
for the dam of my eyes, to crack, crumble
cave, and release along years of harvested tears
to the barren land

Mother

In front did you know
the moment, felt it you may
rustling inside did you hear
that it is me

was it then you started, to weave
rope, completed in time
to the needs on occasion to come

to a rope to pull me into life
with it as quagmire into you
to pull through stressed early years
without sleep, like on tarmac
in a sledge pulling me behind

intertwining  an add-on rope, you did
giving the limits like on a neck of a dog

where did it come the anchor rope
that too did you do
and how had you knowledge
resiliently strict twined

along rebellious years I hid to banes
readily made was, of course
where had you strength to do that too
      and on time to throw
            a safety rope

at last I did find a way with an axe
to cut off our ways
loosen apart rope(s) had become

mine escaping to freedom
thine holding to it's own

diverging ways of two
in the run mine got lost too
in places that even shadows don't shine

lost ropeless crouching cries
no where or strength to go
a way with an axe I  came across
with it writing to stone

MOTHER: do you have rope to home
yes,
always

--------------------------------------

I don't know does this work at all in English (Finnish is a superior language). I thought long  and hard and almost deleted this but egoism or need to share - who knows - decided eventually push the "publish"

I wrote it to my mother on Mother's Day this year since she insisted that I can't waste money on flowers. This one is so personal to me that it's impossible to say how bad or good it really is. I'm blinded by love on this one.

In Between Nights There Is A Space

I dream 
of a dream
where I don't have to wake up

a dream 
arriving by request

awake

cars, blurry people
pouring without reactions
on my sight
an impressionistic paint
in motion

shaky  nausea
eyelids like oppressive rugs
circus tent's heavily flexible canvas

hum in the head
dust in the wind
corpus stiff as iron wire

wind bends trees like string a bow
will I bend too

bloodless heart
beats dragging, volatile

towards which night
would I long
the one I know
the other I fear

can't afford to sit yet
not to be captured asleep
day's work
obligation set as punishment 
in command I march through
in line of ants 

slowly managing, to the night

   I can
    
        I can

I can

under the sheets at last
to discover I already slept the day

in harmony of abhorrence 


    insomnia

        insomnia

            insomnia

Re Times To Tire

Let's face it
we're not that
young anymore

me and my wretched
body

mind has retired
way back when
body still olding up

mind re tired
I mean
wasn't the first time
a bore enough

shaved today
our 7-year old asking
why
to get younger of course
you cannot
with immense intonation

just look into
the sink
there's twenty-some
years

I'm too old to be believed

went to kiosk
to buy some cigarettes
papers, please
not that old was the thought
rolling my eyes in awe

too comfortable, my
life to even long for youth

washed my trousers tonight
to whom is the kid
pants sloppy worn
sit and watched the wash
dried in sauna, in lack of dryer

pants to be put back on
in which I appear
dumb, unemployed, indifferent
to myself
consequently to any one
except children up to five

I am terrified to
boredom, how old
I have time
to re
times
tire

I Love You III

because of beauty
my eyes are to see
looking at you
beautiful so

as my lofty gigantic night
pining limpid moon
or hazy lake
morning mist
as boldly as raging sea
low-landed deserts dune dancing in the wind

as         as if              like
    and in comparison

that I can of wonders in the world without comparison
as broadly
          densely
in numbers to loose my count
to dream that I could allegories

I look at you
mute

You With Wings

My angel eyes
heavenly creature, angel of mine
lust for life dwells in your eyes
adorable unobtainable
that I am to my end
bound to pursue

smile of yours fades away doubt
of pain of life destructive to come

in your soul resides fairy-tale
of castles in the air
your heart thrives to people who
within it belong

in your vanes rushes
pinch of temper to collide

in your arms, fingers, wrists
gentle fragile nest
of an airy sigh

able to wing frozen butterflies
and birds to sing in understandable lines

ElectricShockOfLife

In spoons I 
taste metal 
cannot not to touch the world
I burstingly render

Flying Raindrops

Bright open autumn
stolen away
sharpness of colors
thin crispy air of days

replaced by over-weighted
fat hostile clouds

I became so light
and fragile in levity
and clearness before the rains

now drizzling rain so
lightly tiny drops made
they don't care to land
on ground

in wind they sway
side to right, up and closer
like they were the tide

I am them and
they are in me

water-drops that do not know
where in this world
are they intended to go

A Poem

Flashing by moment
a sense, feeling
that never comes
another
not to anyone
not to me
ever again

I grab to that glimpse
squeezing the sense
through feelings
eyes closed
forgotten in me
I hold back

and I let go
to paper

In Short

A Shavel
and a plum tree
what is
there else to say

Brain In Puzzle

Word puzzle
twirling hurling
spinning top color lining
random word generator
head of mine

like children's birthday party
from six of mouths babbling at once
inconsequentials

in deep born out are
significance in search
surrender ahead

I Love You

for
your radiant beauty
as we two
are
but one
and
I can see into your eyes
that answer me
right back

Autumn

Weak in warmth
yet clear
galvanized light
of autumnal sun

thin crispy air
as if to await, prepare
the harshness of times
when winter arrives

with whimpering words
hailed summer it's adieus
not even did catch the words to
say I long to see you to bring back life

A Match

A match minuscule
in size and strength
along with friction 
once scratched 
glittering shine 
with a hissing sound

        fire

     light

moment of warmth

lit up a piece of bark
achieving its mission of life
used with no worth cast aside

I Love You I don't

I love
I do? You
surely I do
don't I
or can I
oh, yes indeed I
ay-ay
what I have gotten into
bearable though
crying once more
begging on my knees
MERCY    again

I do love you, I do
though hate also
very much
screaming tears into night
cursing falling of skies
        again
there is non that I can
I love you
I do?
or only hate that I have
ever dying am I 

A Teardrop

Teardrop

crystal beauty 

on silk of a cheek

along running

to the embrace

of lips

alone indeed

without a father

even mother

tiny miracle

construct of life

Waiting To Be Eaten Alive

Spitting sorrows out of your mouth

executing pain in fables

expelling with cursing endeavors

to shift aside by tears

helpless weep

can do non

occurred fact by now

victim you are

wasted effort breaking loose you may

it is you the spider's eating from her web

The Answer

Search and found
lost, forgotten
newly reminded
found again after search
over again
finally captured
examined its essence
to be a blow
in the air

Days of Chains

In moment
from moment to moment

without cause
absence of consequences

with feeling in feeling
from feeling to feeling
without reason till eternity
uninterrupted orgy
hooked

until darkness closes the hadge
locked up
lying stiff, pretending dead
so they don't tinkle or rattle
the chains

in silence, stretching towards yesterday
building maze from fragments
undone to do
not
forget
regret
burden
in my chains I bear

The Clay In Me

Stirs, boring movement
does not give itself away, a hint at best
inside me, living quarter in every cell
of my tormented body
like a clay bedded ground
frozen in winter
freeing itself underneath
in spring

does not tell, nor whisper
the pain or strength
yet moves and tears the ground
even heavy rocks
shreds the tarmac
cracks you see, inside the agony
not

no explanation, no words arise
stirs, distorts in silence as if no movement
brewing pain, in me
slowly
giving no grip or chance to see
hope

with shovel I try
too vast too deep all around
buried beneath
hidden in beds of clay

Come Carry Me

Time stands still
rooms echoing empty
about to get dark

no movement
not in, nor out
nothing to get hold of
no feelings
no hope, no will, no wants
can not
 

yet time after another
I raise my eyes on the front door
as if you would arrive

no matter if it's ten o'clock
three or half past two
as if I didn't know 
you'll arrive quarter to five

Madhouse

In madhouse
walls covered with ears
corridors like hollow wide-open mouths
in silence

the mad are nameless
nurses unpersons

rules for regulations
for feeble
incalculable
written in directories
notebooks
buried in embrace
of omerta

all of glass 
infiltrates secrets
as walls intently listen
here and there, eyes

all monitored
screened

the mad build themselves
out of their environment
cramming ones words
deep into mind
to brew
from words     
to thoughts          
to actions

David, this is for you to try to capture what I tried to capture from my finish attempt to capture of the dark side of madhouse.