The starfish
must throw out
its stomach
to digest
its food.

In this sense,
the starfish and I
are similar.

To learn,
I must
throw out my brain;
it is only through
foolishness
that I truly
begin to understand.
But how many lessons,
once learned,
can be used?

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

and I realised
everything I missed
like feeling her lips curl
into a smile or a kiss

I look into her eyes
while she stares into the abyss
her fingers uncurl just a little bit
and we fall asleep like this

after Bukowski's "The Laughing Heart"

my life is your life
it was never mine.
omission of submission
leaves no way out.
what's an offer of forgiveness
to a promise of betrayal?
a lost shepherd leading the blind.
under a loaded sky
someone sang
"there is a light and it never goes out"
a marvellous truth that
has taken my heart.
there is light somewhere
but not in my eyes.
heaven can wait.
the gods will have to delight
in themselves
a little longer.