Blasphemy

 

Frozen, it didn’t struck

my empty round;

embraced my red;

broke all options – systems

down.

 

Steel in my chest

screwed

to the core.

I live with the pain;

 absence in mind fades.

blood’s sore.

 

A time ahead, I softly

got hit by the ground.

butterflies attached to voiceless coloured eyes

land on horizon

of this ashtray,

I patiently devise.

 

Despise in me, shattered sound

wouldn’t run the fear

into their bones;

destructive industry

their skull, split it;

in diverged light

appears a bullet.

 

(Lady of Poetry)

(How close is death?)

 

(Salvador Dali)

 

Smoke on the water

 

Dots of light sail

the horizon

in peace it raises

flags in depth and

national pride.

 

In quiet revolution

blossoms in green

dust; unknown

spreads her wings with the wind;

masterpiece of evolution.

 

aggressive in mind it gets stuck

imagination, energy, life

it will suck.

 

How far you go is your matter

I know, denying wont make it better.

 

(Lady of Poetry)

 

 

It’s not a war!
 

A battlefield.

Every morning.

Day                                           Night

 

Can’t avoid.

Nothing around.

No chance to hide.

 

Get ready!

 

In my left

A shield

Made of stanzas

to protect

The shadow

of me. 

 

My right hand

Holds a sword

As long as a verse.

Perfect weapon

To cut off

Hands

That are useless…

 

Eyes 

That are blind…

  

Ears

That are deaf…

 

It’s not a war.

 

Wake up!

 

               (Lady of Poetry)

 

Anno 2008

Thus we cannot change we love with deep respect.
We have faith in truth and patience.
Our time swirls up and down;
Only bad dreams seem to become real.
Good ones stay in our memories
like sculptures; strong and natural.
We got pride that rarely gets touched
by hopefully soft hands.
Evil prayers shall disappear
to lift the ban.

(Lady of Poetry)

 

Chamber of Illusion

Slowly

Liquid pain

Drops into

A white cup

Of my dreams.

 

An empty

Bottle

Of loneliness

In the red corner

Of shame.

 

Sharp edges

Made of

An old crystal box.

 

Wooden frames.

Symbols of

Former times.

 

Gaseous water

Crawling

Over a broken

Milky window.

 

One last time

Heavy curtains

Move over

The fading floor.

 

A rusty body

Passes away

While a yellow

Butterfly

Leaves the house

Of respect and treasure.

                       (Lady of Poetry)

 

 

Dreamcatcher

 

I may tell you:

A story of

Truth ,faith,

Romance,

Lovely glory.

 

Where worlds,

universes

are not apart.

Helpless as the fear.

 

Reformation,

from the reliance it was

clear.

 

Glittering ,fading

moon is newborn;

moves its magical light

over awakening moss.

 

Shiny roads

challenge

brightened fields

aside.

 

Whistling branches,

Up and down;

Circling foliage,

Barking ducks

that frown.

 

The nightshift

of the woods

is now all here.

 

A willow soaks up

glowing butterflies of night.

With silent honesty

Nature and shadows unite.

                     (Lady of Poetry)