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.

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Behemoth

Hanging in my childish dreams like spiderweds between eyelashes

– A world of scary colord figures

Density embraces me as i enter the endless wild flora of imagination

 

Drops of heavy heaven floods singularly sliding from branch to branch

A wild roar echoing in ancient barks – telling stories of a lost creature

Overgrown with ivy orchards, it hides beneath the moisty petals

Longing for the beams of sunlight – to touch it

Where the firy heart burns in memory of eons

Pulsing needs rushing through brushwood –

Chasing the smell of another lifes beating

Followed by paw steps hidden in earthly floor work

 

I have meant to find it, stroke its clawed back

But blood made tiny knots in my fingers endavour

 

copyright (c) 2013 by franziska dirnberger

My Memory in Graves

Flee, my child of painful mime

Tender assignments in sounds –

Of my voice withdrawn from time

Marching to the silent grounds

skulls bursting On cobblestone

the dead are raining upon me –

mourning dressed in black lace

stillness of earthly cadence

dried eyballs in my boney hand

i wipe your skin with soap

scythe cuts out the rotten sap

„To The Ground“ conducts the band

with agonized act in parture

stried to disused grounds in virture

copyright (c) 2012 by franziska dirnberger

FormForAll – Kyrielle prompt by Gay Cannon

written for dVerse.

A Storm is comming

stones beside my window sill

i feel the winters chill – crawling

out of lumpy shadows

–         vikings i have found on doorsteps

howling to their swords desire

 

bloody creatures dripping on screaming ground

a flock of crows

– voyages to the northern land

above my head i feel the pressured air dry

as the silent upraising of a magnetic storm

–         beware forth evermore

 

voiceless figures around my house

helmets clinging to clotheslines

shacks and rooftops are following me

 

copyright (c) 2012 by franziska dirnberger

 

now, for those of you who like a prompt,

be inspired to write an poem and if you like

link it to the comment section. i am looking

forward to your musings