#58 (the beacons long unflamed)

It’s not easy

being green

but green is coursing

through my veins

in witching hours

power grows

to fight

what’s trying

to divide

the darkest skies

the brightest night

may scorching sun may storm may  snow

I praise my love

I keep it low

I hum

I chant

I dance

I spin

to nourish  wisdom

deep within

the wells are dry

I call the rain

to fill the earth

to show the pain

you never ever walk alone

my thumb caresses

beloved stone

I call my sisters, brothers, mothers

we need to be a sting

that bothers


who look for gain

ignoring pain

the very earth they walk on


their names are hidden

tomes of paper

once woods

protect their

deepest flaws

and while they smile

I whet my claws

the shadows keep me calm

and warm

I call upon the fire’s arms

to light the beacons

long unflamed

but now

their light

cannot be tamed

I walk in beauty

dance in pain

I cry my name

and burn my shame.


24th October 2016

#57 (unblemished/unbothered)


the faces of our constant companions

nails failing to scratch their shiny faces

yet still leave a mark

just some strokes

on the ever-patient extension

it’s only words

everybody does it

it will be forgotten in a few days


are the minds we touch

without touching them

fiddling away

our seconds

feeding the ugliest parts

within ourselves



reaching out

from  the abyss of dark glass

we remain


22nd October 2016

#56 (the bones of my dear ones)

One poem a day

keeps the doctor away

or some other nonsense

we were listening to

growing up

between the cracks

in the wall

and the ones in our memory

we kept each other sane

by remembering

the sunny patches

within the landscape

of our childhood

not broken

maybe a little torn

your shoulder always felt

a little bony

I still leaned on

I don’t mind the bones

of my dear ones

21st October 2016


#55 ( to my unborn siblings)

nothing more than

a fragment of my memory

I was born into this world

while you didn’t get this chance

the choices

my mother made

were hers

and although it saddened me

to learn about them

respect is all I have

even if I didn’t want to know

I was told

some secrets don’t stay hidden

yet the choices remain

the same

I couldn’t become your brother

that wasn’t up to me

I don’t even know if there ever was a “you”

so I wrote this monologue.

after someone else

 had made the right choice

 for their lives

Who am I to judge?

Who are you to judge?

*5th October 2016



through a waking city

dew on the grass was

reflecting the sunlight

amplifying its gaze

young, old, tired, awake

while his breathe

fumed a constant trace

of white

all out of bread crumbs

 the quiet



the loud

in a whisper

“You’ll only waste it”

he stopped

at the crossroads

not able to choose

a side

after moonrise

everything was renewed

his worries, his doubts

but also the purest joy

of creating


solidified, once liquid


  •  27th September

#52 (foam queen)

a glass

filled up to the brim

it shattered


left to swim

upon the waves

after the raves

she flowed

on notes unheard


a crown of salt

a gown of black

she fades

she shivers,

makes it back

the night is wrapped

around her heart

that aeons could not

tear apart

a living memory

yet it lingers

within his mind

and through his fingers

although he keeps

to those he loves

some place

he safes

for her


  • matthias geh, 16th April 2016

#51 (breaking the cycle)

I pause

and hesitate

and look back


is a word

is a concept

is not always my friend

trying  to feed

what nourishes my soul

I sometimes wander off the path

and taste some of the mushrooms

growing along the way

entcicing me with their elusive beauty

far from perfection

I’m throwing more words

into a forest of letters and numbers

that inhabit my drawers

wishing for some peace of mind

I’m planting even more digital seeds

*lunarpoet, 13th April 2016

#49 (spring cleaning)


my self-doubts

from the attic

like abandoned spiderwebs

they are


to fly again


I turn into

a carpetbeater

raising clouds of sulk

that leave into

the atmosphere

grey butterflies

wating for their close-up




from past lives

the many times I said

“I used to..”

stopped haunting me

as I weave them into my narrative

they become patches

in my dreamcoat

with my imagination

 tying up

the loose ends


even if

my loom might

be pausing

It never stops

as my story

keeps writing itself

in broad daylight

still I manage to


some threads

just enough

to keep


*matthias geh, 9th March 2016

#48 (on meeting fear)

Die Natur kennt keine Vernichtung, nur Metamorphose.


I allowed myself

to pause

because I needed to

to not feel

when emotions

were too much to bear

regrowing a shell

similar to the one

I used to live in

but not quite


no more silent tears

I don’t bask in my fears


I acknowledge them

I face them

I let them pass

for the biggest fears cannot

be fought against

without losing parts of yourself

the fear of losing

the ones you love

just proves

that you love.

*matthias geh, 4th March 2016