Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Poems published on POETS The Original (MeWe) during April 2019

Meet us on POETS The Original (MeWe)

Beaten Black & Blue

The sky was beaten black & blue
Soon it would change to green
Or be bleeding into glossy black
A dying sky, forsaken
All black without stars
And nobody to see and save you

But at the edges of light
Next to a lonely soul’s darkness
Embroidered cries of faithlessness
Echoing ghastly in a narrow path
Which could only lead into the abyss
And nobody to see and save you

A black widow withholding its bite
But then, what are friends for?

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem and picture

No Movement Order

The Word has fallen
And broke
In 1000 words and tongues

Mosaics and labyrinths
No statements of place
Only time notations

In the silence
Of the blue eye
A distorted image in the mirror

Minced syllables
The word will be appreciated

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem

Now that Spring has Come

Winter and spring
OFF and ON
ON and OFF

The meadow in green
Then paled again
To lonesome white

Circling high above
Then coming down again
The goshawk with his cry

The willow hails spring
With fresh catkins
And hosts a white owl

Spring sends a warmer wind
It blew across the treetops
And left a silver plume

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem
#poetslineprompts, #it_blew_across_the_treetops_and_left_a_silver_plume
Hosted by @Prabha Bathina


What does time do while I am sleep?
Does the time sleep also for a while?
Or dreaming like I do when I sleep?

It is said that every sleep is like death
But time never seems to pass away
Time just keeps going on blow by blow

How should time surrender into dreams
As time is not able to die?

And then I watch laughingly
As time goes by languorously

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem and picture

Warm sun out again
Nature is ready for a walk
My books detain me

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem
#poetshaikuplus, #personal_libraries
Hosted by berniboux •

Years like Towns

All these years
In which you have lived
Every year like a town

When you leave a town
You look always
On a yellow plate with a red stripe
Because you do not know
If ever you’ll return

But these years
In which you’ll never return
They are not marked with a yellow plate

But do not be sad
If there is no parting
Maybe you’ll remember the years

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem and picture

Like Catherine in the Heathers

In the open she walks in bright sunlight
Speaking to herself to train her voice
Ever so eager to say it right
Never again to make a wrong choice

And while she is talking so loudly
Words and rhymes coming out so proudly
She puts them down in a little book
Her own handwriting so neat to look

The wind blows harder and clouds pass by
Rain drops on the page and a botfly
New words appear in wacky spelling
She does not know but she tries yelling

With just an inkling she ruffles her feathers
Then disappears like Catherine in the heathers

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem
Host and invite @karen Hayward

Trees hiding their shadows
From the fire

Last glimpse
Of the key maker escaping
So many doors locked

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem

A spring view

The view through the birch
White and black alternate
And the blue sky

The clouds are moving
White and light
Or gray and heavy with rain

The magpies fly by
The pigeons and blackbirds
And the red kite

The birds are flying away
And the clouds disappear
But I stay with the birch

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem and picture

Coming back
Nobody greets me
Except the cold house

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem

As the Sea Calls - a Ballad

The sea lies calm and we wait for the wind
When the white clouds flock in on the sky
And the small waves start swaying the boat
We run to the harbor and man the ship

The wind blows steady now
Filling the white sails of the yacht
Heave ho, heave ho
Water drips from the anchor

The adventure will lead us
And we will follow fervently
The keel ploughs through the water
Leaving a long, white trail behind

Then fog swallows us and the boat
Only white fog in front of the bow
We man the crow’s nest to look out
And see nothing but doom and despair

We sound the foghorn and move on
The sails are wet and our hand are torn
The suddenly the fog opens a hole
To let us escape into sunshine

The lookout is leaving the crow’s nest
And onwards we sail as planned
No need for adventures anymore
Just enough water beneath the keel

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem
#poetslineprompts hosted by Karen Hayward

Dreams of the Heart

What are you dreaming, my heart?
When I sleep at night
Heart that you never sleep
Only pumping black blood

Heavy liquid, heavy charge
Heavy load, heavy thoughts
And your dreams, tell me
Are your dreams delicate?

Or are they heavy
Like the darkness
Heavy as the night

What are you dreaming, heart,
When I sleep?
Please do also dream, my heart

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem

Only the wind

It's just the wind
Reversing letters
From there it blows
And nobody knows
Where it goes

It's just the wind
Who plays with letters
Toppling them over
And arrange them anew
Word becomes word

Let us read
And be astonished
As of  l i f e
Will come  d e a t h

© 2019 Lothar M. Kirsch poem


No comments:

Post a Comment