Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Lyric published at POETS The Original from 23.07.2018 until 14.08.2018





At the Colonial House

The white painted wood
Has turned to amber
Sitting on the porch
Waiting, contemplating
Your steps on the planks
Followed by some creaks

We listen to the throstle
The breeze is still warm
Carrying fragrances
The shadows of the lofty
Sycamore trees keep
Dancing on the ground

We talk without words
Not to disturb the silence
Or the nightingale
Then the moon rises
Not taciturn as the night
But talkative as the day

Some light from the house
Falling out in squared beams
Cat returns from hunting
Purring with pleasure
Still enough lemonade
To share between us

We haven’t decided yet
Who will break the silence
We could be sitting here
On this cozy veranda
Throughout the whole night
Throughout our whole life

#POETSPHOTOPROMPTS
hosted by the wonderful +
Wendy - Empathic Tigress



Poems and Novels

Poems are
    Rivers
Which roll along
Each meander
A different meaning
    As deep
And shallow waters
Alternate
    We row upstream
Or let us drift away

A novel is a pool
Where kids may play
Or businessmen do rounds

I felt inspired by a poem by +Ulf Wolf (Poems).


Two haiku:

On the veranda
Too hot to sit down
Nevertheless

Ryoanji garden
Sitting amidst rocks and moss
Spring roll in the mind

(Selected by Isamu Hashimoto for The Mainichi in 2014)



Flourishing

Spring had played his tricks
With flowers, fragrances and flair
And exuberant flourishing

When spring went by and quitted
Summer just took over and showed
Us embellishing and furbishing

Let’s wait for autumnal colours
When nature’s flourishing excels in
Juicy fruits and beauty ravishing

#poetslineprompts hosted and invited by +Bubbly


The Chopping Board of the Cannibal

I saw cuts
On the chopping board of the cannibal
Chopped with great precision
White shone the hard wood
Deep was the concavity in the middle
Clean
Embarrassingly clean
So everything appeared
No blood
A bright room - his kitchen
And did I not know any better
The chopping board of the cannibal
It could belong to our mothers

 (Rejuvenated from an older German version ©2011 Lothar M. Kirsch)


Night oaths

Bloodless lips
Which wrest oaths from the moon
Knowing
The moon lies cunningly with silver sparkles
And night brings swift oblivion
Absorbing all light

Only stars
Which twinkle unsteadily
You may ask
But do they hear you, too?

In the midst of billions of light years
Only your word counts
Do not leave it unsaid

Whisper it into the gloom
Of a dried out well
Of which the bucket is broken
And look
If not the light of the stars
Is thrown back from within the depth


The Norse Buddha - Baldr

Out of the darkness
Emerges the bright pine
Shining across water and forest

Behold of Baldr appropinquating
Radiating the colours of the rainbow
Out of which fall golden flashes

He takes his seat in peace
And in his eager meditation
Tranquillity prevails

But he might fight besides Freyr and Hœnir
His eyes look peacefully through blood
He shall fulfill his oath and justice be done

Until he rests in peace again
And meditates though coming ages
To see each soul to rise from mud to pine


#poetsphotoprompt hosted by +Kathir
And kindly invited by Mr Kathir himself, thank you!


Dandelion Wishes

Some turn prayer wheels for well wishes
Others hang out prayer flags into the wind
Some look for shooting stars to wish
And others sadly do not wish at all

But then there are the dandelions
So pretty in their yellow dresses
And when the parachute ball is ready
We blow the seeds with our dandelion whishes


#Poetslineprompt
#Dandelion wishes
Hosted  and invited by +
linda bradley todd – thank you very much!



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