Πέμπτη 7 Οκτωβρίου 2010

Mean to Me

I shudder...
Thinking of what you might come to mean to me
Of what you already mean to me
I put up a shield cause...
Cause if you take a closer look at my blackness
You will leave...run away...
Erase me from your memory,
As if I’ve never existed.
If you take a closer look you will see
A torn-out dusty book, that's been left there
On the bottom forgotten shelf...
Its pages all yellowish and in sanguine are dressed
My writings are full of odd carvings that need
Extensive encryption to decode
My meanings are many, and my essence is plain
If you take a closer look, you will see a woman
That you couldn't possibly love,
Not in a physical, not in a mental way.
I shudder again, at night
Because your ghost is there keeping me sweet company
Your ghost is in love with me, and I with it
But I took a closer look, and I saw my emptiness in the dark
And your richness in light, and I resist you
Not because you don't mean to me,
But because you mean to me more than you should
And my journey is paved with thorns and blood
And I never want to wound you intentionally or not
...you mean to me, period.
That shall be my Phoenician stop, period.
...you mean to my spirit everything.

Winters Come, Winters Go

How cruel a burden
To have lookt in thy abyss
To have swam in thy dune
Bathed in thy chaos and see paradise

How sinister a thought
To have thy bonds planted in eternity
To have thy gaze blown away
Into another obscure path, into another way

How fearsome to lead mine dead-ends
To have witnessed the oblivion of knowledge
To be turned away from the fruit
But yet tasted it in mine weary fantasies

How troublesome thy winters have reached me
To build our bond in two worlds’ apart
To be sardonically unable to melt thy steel heart
For thy Midas’ thoughts will always be mine crash

How wearisome to hear thy blistering sounds in the wind
To malt my hairy pane for thy wanton sympathies
Chafing my appetites to thy passive commands
Whilst bathing in the moonlight of thy bloodbath

How cruel-some to fall amiss in thy absent sounds
To scratch the pavements thou hast walked on
To feel reborn through thy ashes
And face a new dawn, without you in it!