morning glory

​my heart stretches, expanding so little.

for all the accumulated space and time. i filled with books and music. paintings and sunrises. the counting of your moles.

i feel the ever pleasant ache of giving away some part of me to conserve another one of natures wonders. the icy thornes of frozen twigs. white branches glistening in the pale morning light. 
i breath in. the cold and ragged flickers of small wonders

Advertisements

get up.

get up.
rusty marks on chest and bone. i want to leave this place.

get up.
my brain is working full time. stop.
hide. behind rosy cheeks. your blackened eyes and
mean spirited demeanour.

get up.
from ashes. burned woods and cooling embers.

get up.
raise your voice. scream and stumble trough the roughness of your throat.
now is not the time to find cover. no threshhold will let you pass.
no candles in windows to lead you to a silver lining.

get up.
on this maddening path. in search for change. for one is only still when dying.

Harvest.

The rearrangement of the senses.
In the transcendentalism of emerging thoughts.

Haying in the afternoons fading heat
i tend to wander away, around                         Waldens pond

the coolness of spent shadows
make words linger in my mind.

sweaty drops lumbering down my spine       and lower
ha…..searing mind, decendes through worked muscles
–   to yawning fingertips and toes.

pink and orange colored skies, in variations –
after the horizon with cricket songs
my spirits strive

copyright (c) 2014 by franzad
written for dVerse

For M.

Dear …..

I am sitting here, beneath the branches, swaying to the autuum breeze.

Thinking of you has taken on an obsessive character. There is a part of me, hiding like a trembling child, waiting in anguish fo a single word of you.

I resent and nurish this paart of myself.

And every once in a while, i detect a question rising in the darkest back of my head.  Why did i let you take hold over my quivering heart? Is it the human nature, which keeps my cells from parting?

Do i relish in this enticing pain? My trust is dyining, in slow-motion. And i let it.

How much are we responsible for the feelings of others, of our own?

It amazes me, how easely i let myself become this needy and wanting. Yearning for something…..you.

 

My cave of molded memories.

 

But not anymore.

I dont want your words, harsh or loving. I kiss goodbye your once so loving lips,

– producing butterflies – inside me – tangled.

I want truth, disecting all these parts wearing my name.

I want love, but not yours, not anymore.

I want as both to be whole again, seperatly.

 

copyright (c) 2014, by franzad.

yet for you…

i could never dance

nor love

nor write

enough, for me to express

so very properly the feelings

i hold most dear.

 

yet for you –

i try the speech of men.

 

words stumble with dear intent,

along my tounge to breach

– my bottom lip –

grazes yours, to reveal

– the trembling letters –

slowly crawling upon your theeth.

 

 

A thought on dying

Spring has arrived in my chamber of madness

Birds are falling from the sky –

The cures which i am bound to wear is inked on my skin

The weary dries slowly on small minded features

The cry i am whispering is for the leaves of green

– to grow on my fingers and toes

I ripp out the roots, want to fly like the ravens blood

In blooming meadows i hide my shadow

 

copyright 2013 by franziska dirnberger