(Bending leaves)

(Bending leaves)


This sunny light moving the leaves across the fence

(It feels so fiery, aren’t they hurt?)

This sunny light that burns our skin

(In order to forget  the slavery

we live through daily

under this sun?

In order to exist?)

it is the light that darkens all that’s seen.

(I choose to see the beauty of the green!)

Arisen strangely from the branches’brown

(it feels so vivid, a life enhacing color)

its substance gives us all the power

we need to turn ourselves into a flower

of life

a life without an end.

(These shining leaves resist because they bend!)


31st of July, 2017 – Parentheses

20170731.shining leaves





Let’s call it the platform of love I entered life from.

(Not quite poetic, you know?)

Let’s call it the tarmac for the soul,

a kind of white and yellowish context for the experience of life.

(What kind of poetry do you see in these substantial associations?)

Since then, I’ve always searched the perfect color of the love I knew,

its fragrance and its look and all its beauty.

(Is poetry about matter?)

Whenever recognized, a kind of pearly tiny roses just sprang into existence

through eyes  going to shine into the world around.

(I see, you’re talking about lenses!)

But this day needed tuberose, the white and pearly little flowers,

to impregnate the white and yellow painted walls with their perfume powers.

(Technology and science went so far!

I didn’t know that roses could blossom in the tubes of a freight car! )


July, 28th, 2017 – The diary of renovation: Parentheses