.

Wait a minute! I recognize this song!

Yes it is familiar, I heard it long

Ago when I was still but a young boy,

My heart was still pure and my mind still coy

But all those years have passed and I have learned

That the world was oh so much vaster than

What it had appeared, my whole view had turned,

If only I had known all I know then…

The night is eerie, my mind is weary,

And yet my body does feel quite cheery,

Long forgotten are these thousand one frights

For tonight feels the night of all the nights!

This strange, fun tune, I have heard it before!

My body remembers: to the dance floor

where it drags me in a fateful twist,

I throw up my arms and throw up my fist,

My legs move one their own, my heart dances,

My mind falls into one of those trances,

I swear I can control myself no more!

The stones are lit up with old Jack’s lanterns

As these old bones rattle in twists and turns,

And I am not alone under the moon,

The people of the night have come to croon,

Oh we are all here, and we are giving

Our souls — oh look! There’re even some living!

There was no body and then, in a flash!

Everyone was dancing the Monster Mash!

.

Of course, what else?

.

When rain was falling down

On the beautiful gown

And the lilies began

To fade away and wan,

Some soft bittersweet notes

Were birthed by violins,

They broke their sacred oaths

Under the violet

And they fled from the coast

Upon winds violent,

Away from the blessed stone

Of the Levi islands,

Simple cast a ways stowed;

Long after poets sang

Of how they rowed and rowed

Far beyond ying and yang.

.

Not really sure about this one…

.

Was it then? Was it in that moment?

In the instant our eyes met,

Did you find me very charmant?

I swear I knew, and yet

I did not act upon this feeling

And gave time to time itself

For it would have sent you reeling,

Me, to the dusty shelf

Of ‘maybe exes and others’ bunch,

Lucky for me time had stopped,

Or should I say I had a hunch?

Nah, my mind had just popped.

And when it returned, oh the colours!

Oh the sounds and oh the warmth,

And the loveliest of odors,

One that almost harmeth;

By chance or coincidence, that day,

I let the sand keep falling

But my friend, be it as it may,

I now thank this stalling.

.

Pachance is the mother of all virtue.

.

In a draft, it all begins in a draft;

Soft wind is picking up in the white sails,

Who hears the message running in the gales?

Alone on the ocean, lost on a raft,

Who’d, for a sole win, bear a thousand fails?

But thus sparks the genesis of the craft,

There, as a helmsman on the paper aft,

The poet is walking grand celestial trails…

.

An incomplete sonnet.

.

The Bittersuite – I

.

Tell her you did not mean it,

Tell her it was a mistake,

Tell her she is gonna wake

And that she’ll never dream it

Ever again in this flesh,

Tell her I pray you, tell her,

Oh please! do not make her thresh

This path for it will fell her,

You cannot leave to silence

What your voice will not express

You cannot restore balance

By stitching up this old dress,

It will tear and it will fall

If you simply run and stall,

Tell oh tell her I tell you

Not for glory, nor a reward,

Not for the many, nor the few,

No, simply to move forward.

So just tell her t’was a lie

Or even that it was truth,

You must tell her, tell her why,

For what now can the pain sooth?

Tell her. Oh sing it! Scream it!

Don’t you see what is at stake?!

Her whole universe will break,

Telling her might redeem it…

.

Home of the Witch.

.

Who are you my friend?

You remain unknown to me

Despite the long years.

Your face is as clear

As your name is written plain,

But you are shadow.

The words are fading

From those chiseled souvenirs,

Yet I find I smile.

.

.

Don’t you too find it quite queer how

It is in those strange moments

When the world will not allow

Either complaints or comments

That you then feel the most free?

When the searing heat crackles

The thick walls that you have built

In your shame at feeling guilt –

These two cold, heavy shackles.

Oh the pain is here to stay,

There will never be more true,

Blinding like the light of day,

Always imposed upon you,

But breathe in and count to three…

Isn’t it in this rough tide

That you may soar the highest?

When only your limbs abide

You, the uninvited guest.

Isn’t it quite peculiar

That the heaviest burdens

Make the whole world a liar

And dark storms, peaceful gardens?

Isn’t it quite queer indeed

That the farther you’re apart

Makes you run so much faster?

Who would ever bear to heed

That the heavier the heart

Makes you fight so much harder?

.

“Sometimes harsh limitation is the greatest freedom.” – Unknown artist.

.

There is a strange whisper that today seems awind

A secret tale of youth, told in smiles, told in leaves,

It sings about desire that an archer has twinned,

The words are drops of rain in which warm sunlight weaves,

The notes are those instants where the world is soundless,

Playing along sheets written in gazes hiding

To the beat of footsteps and shadows colliding,

It tales of faithful hearts and devotion endless.

But will it be minor, oh this sweet symphony?

For in time wind calms down and shadows come to pass

In the end even rain will not keep company;

Do beware my young ones for diamond can be glass…

.

Carpe diem,          

          cave nocte.