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.