#145 (unscarred)

the scars on my skin
remind me of the pain
while my heart remains
because like energy
love can never be lost

24th May 2017

#135 (within the cup of quiet grace)

the night was old

all stories told

as chastity

had long been sold

the mirrored passion

in her gaze

entranced him

in a scarlet haze

he drank it all

the tears and sweat

his restless fears, doubt

and regret

within the cup of quiet grace

he glimpsed

a single solemn face

the queen of hearts

had lost her smile

was wandering lost

for quite some while

between the good

and mostly bad

her hopes and dreams

were turning mad

her faded glamour

seeping through

the veils of night

soon ripped by spring

the morning light

most cruel thing

and early dawn

the lethal sting

24th April 2017

#119 (accountants of misery)

photo credit: Matthias Geh



one silken drop

missed the tip of his tongue

he’s parched senseless

wandering the wasteland

of withheld wishes

the sound of shells

crunching under his feet

shattering like his illusions

relinquished splinters cut

into his bare soles

leaving a scarlet trail

in wet sand


nobody singing

for the lost ones

gone astray in the murk

we count the dead

we count our money

accountants of misery

he’s planting dandelion seeds

on vanity and greed

*17th January

#92 (feeding fires in frost)

photo credit: Matthias Geh

kiss me

under the stars

trace my blanket

of scars

rest your lips

on my neck

ease your chin

to my back


fires in frost

singing songs

of the lost

spinning tales

from the dark

while my hands

caress bark

willow trees

catch the cold

within sap flow

we hold

our breaths

against the wall

we grew weary

and small


your palms

to the wind


we rescind

upon darkest night’s


our wishes


*20th December 2016


#90 (on top throned a petal)

photo credit: Matthias Geh


was stretching its

pale claws

made of smoke

and exhaustion

I’ve seen

my lover die

under a big, flat tire

cuz’ he tripped on some sleet

his feet caught in a wire

and his head hit the street

how my tears

have grown cold

throughout wanderin’

the valleys of sorrow

how my palms

lost their touch

when I reached for the handle

and relief filled me up

as I crashed

and I shattered

like a cracked, dusty cup

nothing else really mattered

only pain did


broken bones

kept on mending

while the moon

travelled on

no more silly pretending

he was lost

he was gone

watched the snow

paint some flowers

with a brush made of cold

and my sister

came by

and her eyes looked so old


she  had brought me

a biscuit

and on top throned a petal

from a yellow-red rose

 my tongue still  tasted metal

but sweetness touched my nose

oh the smile that was spreading

when my teeth

broke the dough

and just then I was letting

all the misery go

*18th December 2016