#262 (obsidian)

obsidian  four dark eggs spread in a circle the first cracks raven wings tearing through the lament of waning candles 'till the last corner is bursting with shadows sipping away at the night with onyx lips   © Matthias Geh, 15th May 2018  


#211 (make way)

flashes of white darkness weighing heavy bags like mires under his eyes inside the chapel of wilted flowers a song is born of silence and hesitation a melody of forgotten promises resounding deeply to guide the gentlest touch of coming warmth as ice blossoms make way this torn asunder winter night © Matthias Geh, 1th … Continue reading #211 (make way)

#180 (the deep end)

the deep end of my dreams is where fears grow to terrors the landscape of a former quiet night turning into an evil fairground bitterness and pain exchanging candy while pride and prejudice are taking the rollercoaster of doom whack-a-doubt yet I'll never hit and have to spent an extra round in the cabinet of … Continue reading #180 (the deep end)

#179 (a flat world)

ideas being quenshed before they even set a fire to our imagination unconnected sparks dancing around jaded amygdalas we were everything you needed us to be and nothing we ever wanted to become blind obedience as we shackled our free will to the dogma of superiority sheep, whetting our butcher's knife the time for tenderness … Continue reading #179 (a flat world)

#173 (darkness pierces every corner)

the ones you lost have now been found riding like mad a merry-go-round the one to hell and back, my dear don't fear the reaper for she's near the gift of life the prize of dying we grind and toil and keep on trying three wishes granted if you dare mischievous fairies they don't care … Continue reading #173 (darkness pierces every corner)

#138 (whetting the edge)

between black dots and jagged beaks he'd been stashing away some memories for a rainy day ♦◊ the pendulum relentlessy cutting away each moment before midnight ♦◊♦ some said the night was still young while  actually darkness kept erasing all signs of aging ♦♦♦  dreams carelessly poured out as intimacy got lost in the perpetual … Continue reading #138 (whetting the edge)

#126 (between tender plumage)

  allegedly we dreamt of spring while cutting blocks of black ice forming clusters of coldness until our fingers gave in to numbness and within our aching bones the seeds of fever started to bloom the flowers of our anticipation withered away like the last seconds of daylight being replaced by the prospect of obscurity … Continue reading #126 (between tender plumage)