Dream Note N.8

Mark this as a new dawn,

where joy hatches out from chapters of despair.

As my ghost returns at each misty morn,

my love grows beyond my bodily lair.

Yet again you have haunted me in my frailest hours,

where darkness intoxicates the bitter air.

You have brought me the sweetest flowers,

keeping my soul from the unfeeling flares.

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Published in: on 24/03/2017 at 9:53 AM  Leave a Comment  

Darkest Despair

At last, this sword from hell I find,

fantasies of self-slaughter captivate my mind.

This unearthly hour summons my blood,

demonic pleasures to the graves they bind.

Merlot bleeds from wasteland fissures;

oxblood threads secrete from the earth.

An oasis of riches lures the travellers,

to their finale by the most sensual verse.

Are her eyes truly to my affections blind?

Is her heart colder than my underground dearth?

In the chaos of worldly chains she’s lost,

as no one shall of my existence recall.

***

Dear dreams, dear diary, what is this fate?

I cannot fathom with all my earthly wit.

All I ask of is save untainted love,

yet I have nothing save the hails from above.

O, for all my honourable years,

glories have concealed my lonely tears.

Is unending compassion a sin to be damned –

thus I must suffer under a rain of spears?

As my blood runs dry, my spirits extinguish,

my mortal flesh must one day rot.

Save for her sorrows alone that bid my anguish –

much duties to be willed, though my will is naught.

Published in: on 11/03/2017 at 12:35 AM  Leave a Comment  

Cold Emptiness

Am I dreaming or am I awake?

Hunger gnaws from within me.

The ghastly air penetrates my skin;

ice adorned leaves pierce my flesh.

O I am dreaming in an icy crate,

the ghostly branches dance on my wall,

by the moonlight their forms fling,

to Chopin’s nocturnes that devilishly caress.

Unseen sirens from a black cemetery make,

songs that drape my corpse in frost.

As I limp along the shimmering lake,

sinking from the marsh into an old inn.

Alone I am, in a cold emptiness;

alone, I struggle to keep my comport.

I plead helplessly for her majesty’s mercy,

like a breathing shark who has torn his fin.

Published in: on 10/03/2017 at 3:03 AM  Leave a Comment  

A Cold Rainy Morning

If only I may,

think of my heart’s fray,

when my dark curtain appeases,

is when life itself ceases. 

The raindrops carelessly dance,

patting my shoulders softly,

again I am in a trance,

that mirrros my worldly glance.

If only you may,

turn to my flurried pray,

if you would my heart hold,

then life would surely unfold.

Alas the rain is cold,

quivering my spine too old.

the airs breathe gently,

as my forgotten quills fold.

Published in: on 09/03/2017 at 12:48 PM  Leave a Comment  

Café w Warszawa Centrum

The people rushing by,

as I sit at my little table.

With a cup of Jamaica tea,

I hear the rumblings of an old stable.

As I wait for my evening flight,

the city clings onto my heart.

As my longings project from the future,

foreshadowing my remembrance of the past.

The waltzes accompanying my stay,

the people reading newspapers.

Melodic passions from afar,

somewhere beyond the oceans recur.

I sense your face in my words,

in dreams or life am I to testify?

A walk yet to take in Łazienki park,

yet with my pen at my diary petrified.

How I cannot save to be tender,

although my heart slowly withers.

How eloquent sings of my elegance,

even as my minimal forms weather.

Wintery airs linger on in March;

a glass of chocolate revives me.

Sweet delicacies are for the forgetful;

bearing the weight of the world, yet I am free.

Published in: on 05/03/2017 at 3:03 PM  Leave a Comment