Gentle drops of Love
Slide down my heart
The foggy waterfall grows
When the drops gather in one.

The reflection
Of the crystal clear lake
Which resides at the bottom
Of the heart in tears
Is formed in the retina
Of the lucid eyes.

The lake is icy and cold
When the drops are frozen
To melt again in the warmth
Under the tears of Love.

The night-cold air embraces the soul
Drifting along, jumping over the imagination hole
Nothing seems reality. Where is the whole?

Stepping out into the bare world
Taking the melancholy along
Hovering around like an invisible bird.

Under the whopping sky
Standing in the middle of the universe
I rise my hands to pick a black rose
And let all the gleaming petals disperse.

In the dazzling sun
The delicate scent of a jasmine
Bewilders bumblebee.

The evening light is glowing
Scattering shadows behind

Drizzling down the sky
The rain composes a night rainbow.

Under the moonlight.

Sailing in my thoughts
            Like a ship in the ocean
Swaying up and down
               On the poetical waves.

Thoughts are the waves
                     Poetic and creative
Painful and joyous
                        Stormy and calm.

They hit unexpected
             Leaving a mark behind
Like love leaves a scar
           Thoughts leave a notion.

Poets are in need of them
         The ideas of stormy waves
Their mind is able to create
         After a thriving earthquake
Which brings about the storm
                       In the creative days.

Trust is fragile
Trust is made from the finest glass
Crocheted from the Ice Flowers
Pieced together with hundred hours.

Trust is tender
Trust has the wings of a butterfly
Blessed with the heart of a hummingbird
Invisibly, with delicacy, Trust is dispersed.

When Trust shatters
The sharp pieces stream together in your heart
As it will take hundred more hours
To find every fragment, yet hundred more days
To make up the Ice Flower with hardest ways.

Whopping blue sky
Rises above my eyes
Something nostalgic
Pervades my mind

The Yellow Eye observes
And gives light in that blue
Ocean with air for its water
And flimsy clouds for its foam

Swallows one by one
Trigger through the air
Plunge into the clouds
Come out to follow the
Track to their tiny prey

So lovely are those swallows for me
The special birds with magic in the heart.

Your eyes are like ocean
So deep blue and clear
They hold such a treasure
Yet it is all deep inside.
The ocean is calm, no wind blows
Over its divine serenity
The warmth of it is worth to dive in
And discover yet what is undiscovered
So your eyes tell me to do
I know the ocean is calm
When your heart is peaceful.
Yet sometimes I see grey
Cumulonimbus clouds have covered
The deep blue ocean and the wind
It is strong and severe I feel
The foamy tender waves have grown
And hit ashore, they do come fast
The ocean rises and some of its water
Pours out and falls down on your cheeks.
Not often is the ocean so sad
The sun is keeping it merry and blue
It can be wonder to see
When the stars come down from sky
And take a bath in the blue water
It is so bright and glittery
I can see all the radiance
Just by looking in your deep blue ocean eyes.

What is it we are searching for?
Being in a constant conversation
With our deepest thoughts.
Even though it is a monologue
With no answers provided.

Do you know the truth?
Me neither,
I do not.

You know your heart has eyes
But your heart's eyes stay closed
If you refuse to open them
That is the heart what nature has created
To keep us alive
But also to posses that treasure
What our bare mind can't.

You can see the beauty
Yet the most beautiful
And the most important
Is still invisible.

You cannot see true love
Nor true happiness
But feel them.
Feel them travelling
Through your blood vessels
Passing into every cell
They come across.

Those things were created invisible
And they are meant to stay this way
Those which are the most important
That our bare eye cannot behold.
They teach us to see further
To see deeper.

The nature can create beautiful things
But it likes to hide the most beautiful of all.
Nature calls us to find those
Yet the finding can be hard.

If you can finally see the deepest beauty
The deepest of all
It shows you are finally removed
That shadow in front of your eyes.
Now that you have clear sight
You can tell me
What is really the beauty for you.

Isn't it the one which was so long invisible?
Isn't it the one which was hidden behind the blind?

Yet it is still invisible
And still hidden.
But you found it.

Wasn't it that you were always used to
Look at the facade?
And had not yet clear vision
How to enter behind?
You had no hope nor faith
Because you believed in that beauty
What nature had created
But not in what she had hidden.

Yet the hidden one must one see
As it is the eternal and live for thee.

Like a snowflake in a micro-planet
flying around in the vast universe
fading away, melting for eternity.
Small breaths carry your memories
fall of tears slide down the cheek
as the raindrops on your window
pouring out the life from your chest.
The little snowflake had a beauty,
meaning on its own, truth in the core,
hidden and observed, as life knows
how brittle and precious is every breath.

The slenderness of the delicate letters
The softness of the deep-meaning words
Painted on a snow white paper.
The Silver Poet sits under the dim light
Of the mystic star-knitted universe.

Closing the eyes he feels a crystal tear
Rolling down like a raindrop on the glass
Falling into eternity, dropping on the snowy paper.
The Silver Poet is shivering but has no fear.

The words he limns flow like a pure river
Down the mountain slopes leaving its path
An everlasting mark which will never vanish
The poem comes alive when the Silver Poet breathes.

He takes out his Golden Heart to accomplish the poem
And gives his wondrous soul for the sake of the rhythm.

The poem is ready to become another bright star
Knitted carefully around the Silver Poet's Golden Heart.

Like a swallow dashes in the sky
My thoughts swoop in the speed of light.
So very hard to capture them
Just let them fly in the height.

Mischievous wind blows
On the sun kissed field
Graceful barley bows
To indicate its servility
Under the whopping sky.

Soon it is time for a
Masterful peasant
To humbly show its
Joy and respect
And worship the harvest.
In the sun kissed field
Under that golden shield.

The sweet sound
Of a softly played harp
Caresses my ears
In the warm night breez
I hear the steps of an angel
That is all like a dream
In a fairy tale movie
Where love lasts endlessly
And the sound of the harp
Stops only to start again.

When I am awake
Where is the harp
Of the sweetest sound?
When I flash my eyes
Through the surroundings
Where is the angel gone?
It is just a strike through the heart
That the love is still not endless.

The deepest philosophy
Is your autobiography.
It is written in calligraphy
And captured in photography.

What is your ideology
Is all your psychology
Stored subconciously
Creating your biology.

Under thousand looming stars
Stamped in the night black sky
Where all the opputunities fly.

On the cold dew-covered ground
Standing under the star dust blanket
I realise my own insignificance.

Here, where kings and queens govern
Everything seems too substantial
Even your own image is so ambigous.

Complexity of life is beautiful as nature
The soul and heart of humans, fair
Or demonish and guileful, evil and sly

What guides your soul must be just
Like the universe in its brilliant grandeur
Simple love as the first step to generosity.

Under those far-reached specks
Of joyful glittering stars
Steps a thoughtful wanderer
Like a philosopher in a hazy road of night.

In his wrinkled long lived hands
He holds the book of his soul
Where every word is written
With precision, passion and vision.

The worn-out crinkly papers
Store the wise thoughts and feelings
Which get a complement fillings.
In an every new place of wonder.

For him the adventure and life
Is the most captivating matter
To discover the goodness of people
And write the wise words of jewel.

He takes the brush
full of endless wonders
never runs out of
stories to ignite aflame.

Yet every day he seems
to fall into deep thought
in some other world
where beauty excists
inside a brittle crystal.

The brush, shattering it
to design carefully another
wondrous form of art.

Painter, draws the life
while the composer plays
music for the silky soul.

Poet, writes the lines
of eternal exsistence
while the dancer gives
heart for the movement
Of life.

The velvet cover of the book
Where I enclosed my soul
Entangled on the hard pages
I painted the lines
When the heart whispered.

I poured my soul
Like I poured honey in my tea
Yesterday evening.

It flew out and I closed the book
To hold it against my chest.
To immerse it with the teardrops.
To hate the lines and love the velvet.

There was no beginning
And the end had not even started.
But I had so much to say
I could not keep it this way.

There was love in too many lines
The aim of the world
And the sugar of the universe.
When I heard the whisper of my heart.

I put off the candle
To see the stars in my soul.
And search for the love
Between the Betelgeuse and Bellatrix.

Writing a poem
under the moon
Contemplating
on a wooden chair
The silky curtains
spread their wings.

I hear a voice
your call at night
echoing on walls
I leave the ink
and run down
over the meadows
over the fields
and the moon
lightens my path.

The woods is dark
but does not halt
my rush toward you
I run for a while
I run for years.

In your room
is a coffin inside
on top of it are flowers
a bouquet of liliac lilies
I don't hear your voice
anymore. It is dark.
I sit by there for years.

It took centuries
to reach you
and seconds
to love you.
The moon on the hill
is standing still.

Shine through the glass
Like shines the wobbly sunray
It can penetrate the mirror
In an easy way.
Form the magic spectrum
Of those visible colours
Like forms the clear diamond
When sun has kissed
Its sides with honour.
Fall down like a tender snowflake
So that your Lover
Can catch you and hold
But stay, do not melt away, do not fade
So you do not regret the beautiful dream
Once you are awake.

The reflection of the soul
Is seen within the silver glass
In your eyes where the treasure is hold.

The night is slowly falling
Behind the shadow cast trees
To hear the majestic owl´s mystic calling
Soul darkness is the only thing I see

Somewhere deep hidden in the woods
Is the invisible delicate love I once lost
Those wondrous days in the late childhood
Now I can only bear the feeling of the frost

Searching for the love under the wicked night
Which is like a treasure thrown into the sea
I know I cannot achieve to find it, I can only write
About that drastic dream and that perfect symphony.

You once were in my life.

The contradiction
Inside your mind
Cannot form a sentence
From these tangled words.
You make up an idea
But then tear it apart
Where does it all start?
It is a conflict
Between you and your mind,
Now in daylight you struggle
To reache the core
Of the sweet compromise
And the peace of mind.

I make art
With the thousand mysteries
Of my deepest feelings

I perform art
With the unconciousness
In the emptiness

Art from heart,
The purest urge
To free your soul
From every dip
Of the harassing reality

Art is what?
The purest need
To express the deep
Everlasting eternity.

The life is riding on a merry-go-round
Whirling around the stars
It is rushing and running through
In a continues line of thought.

Until you stop it, make it stand still
And study the millions of pictures
Of the enormous amount of lives
And step on the solid base of it
And whirl along with the thrill.

So many souls pass by your side
So many secrets whisper in your ear
There seems to be no end of it
No end of the woe and despair

There is happiness and luck
There is desire and love
The merry-go-round is full of life
Full of emotions and thoughts

I wonder how it never breaks down
Under that heavy loud
And always goes around
In the circles it makes on the ground.

Starting from the inception
And going through the phases
The beginning of the end melts into a pearl
When you have the chance to gather it
And go along with the whirl.

Blowing away from the distance
Gathering everything on its way
The living should stop and bliss that
For a second before death of the day.

If you feel the touch of the wind
Gently and tenderly moving your hair
It is like to stumble, to fly blind
To cry and pray and fiercely tear.

The touch of the wind can be godly
The touch of the wind can be rough
But it is never meant to be deadly
It is just meaningful for the life is tough.

Like a snowflake, melting
In the depth of warm hands
Evapourating back into eternity
So brittle, silky, mystic
Is our love.
Catching every spark of fireball.
Flames burn the heart badly
Scars, last for many decades
Deforming and taking a new figure
Never completely forgotten.

Dripping into eternity.
Smashing the time
And collecting the seconds.

Those sublime flakes of snow
Flying down in a chaotic row
Tabbing  against the tender skin
Who, in the doleful end will win?
Sublime and sweet, the memory
Throbbing in grief too severely
I do feel the snowflakes of ache
Landing on the heart of rage
Not even trying to melt anymore
It's all too cold and bitterly sore.

Those crystal eyes in my face,
When the True Light hits my mind,
I write in those whispers of night,
I pour my soul in the empty paper.
Then I do colour the paper in red;
The poems I write will be red, my dear,
As the last drip of my glowing blood,
Will be shed down amidst my heart.

Where is the truth in this world?
Does it knock on the door,
When it feels ready to enter
Or does it sneak into the heart
When it is ready to reveal?

Truth, so utopic
As it is to reach the farthest stars.
It overcomes the multiple bars
Seems as yet too metaphoric

Behind the garden of truth
You stand and watch the flowers bloom
But cannot open the floodlit door
Though the heart is seeking for the key
While truth remains still in the mystic breez.

I can never wash away
The image of you
Nor the memory of you
But I can paint it on paper
And throw it into the sea,
So the water will wash it away
And carry it into the world
Of underwater, so Poseidon
Will keep the eye on you
And let you dance with Thetis.

The feeling has not eluded yet
the rain not ceased or silenced
still you say somewhere far
that music, it engulfs it all.

In the bright nigh of spring
while all the flowers whisper
and water streams of happiness
life here is never meaningless.

The songs of birds and trees
the sound of pure liveliness
and you murmur, it recedes
when the music of heart bleeds.

Oh, the most precious gift
To my tender heart and soul
The most valued feeling
Which spikes through the heart
Like swallow dashes through the air.
So kind and warm I do feel
I keep it locked, dare not to liberate.
But whoever comes to me
Could feel that power of love
I cannot keep it for long
As my heart will set on fire.
The need to spread is strong
To those who feel cold
Can feel warm instead,
And for the most beloved soul,
I would give my love
Along with my smouldering heart.

On a secret starry night
I was glad to be by myself
Just like walking on glass
I marched under the starlight
The pieces were beaming
Under my feet, and tinkling
To open my eyes under the sky
I saw the stars were falling
The pieces of glass were the stars
Where I could see my reflection
And glance into my soul to tell
I am made of these elements
Which are out there, so far
But yet they are so close
That I can feel them moving
In the life which has ignited in me
I realise- that is what the stars will show.

Tender snowflakes shake down my world
As I sit by the fire in the late afternoon
The icy frosting around my heart does not
Melt yet. It is shattered down too soon.

I am sitting by the fire, thinking of you
As the flames sip up my flamboyant soul
Maybe I was too wrong to search for the truth.
The little vibration of subconscious. Does not soothe.

We were both aware of the nameless,
The little feeling which increases too swiftly
Nameless. As we didn't want to just call it
Love. Soon the fire sipped it up, too.

Tenderness of the steps
A night fairy walks on.
In the garden of starlight.
One bold tree grows, alone.

The night breeze is shaking
The branches, so fragile,
Though firm enough for taking
The burden of life's petal.

The fairy's shadow is casting
The beautiful moments in all
Unsure of how long is lasting
The shimmering hope's crystal.

Nature's wings are unforeseen
And yet the roots hold tight
No wind no storm no spleen
Would dispel the tree's light.

I dance away this, everything
each move fractures another
window of the prison, shatter.
Shatter! Suddenly it is so
quiet.
Thoughts freeze, emotions boil
everything is too silent, after
after the constant moving.
Dance! Madness is everywhere
dance away, every bit of the
captivation. Inside.
I am madness, in the form of art.

Generated by a swirl of streaming emotions,
The captive feeling which will never vanish,
And the start of nameless pure devotion.
The creative mind you unawares establish,
All those mighty creatures with great power,
Why are you trying to define the undefined?
Alas, it is just one petite everlasting flower,
Having smell of divinity and leaving you blind.
By the greatest gods it is named the wildest woe,
Yet it is the sweetest joy that confines your mind,
It will never be stopped as it will always overflow.

One day walking on an edge of a seaside
The edge where the water can't reach your feet
Preceiving on a horizon a hillside
Where it is easy to let yourself go and leap.

Everyday I walk the same path again
Spotting the hillside and thinking of freedom
I once dream of saying to myself Hooray!
And drag myself out of that boredom

I want to tear my heart out
And hold it in my hands for a second
I dream of no doubt
Because I have been too long infected
And I am sick of the mystery
Hidden in the crooks of my torn heart

One day I dreamt
That I had torn my heart out
When I got closer to that scent
I really saw I had torn my hear out.

I was simply holding it
Holding in my hands
I was amazed of that
Because I can never put it back.

I asked Life to dance with me
And He brought me to the hardest steps
The turns and twists I never expected
The severest discipline and arduous regime.

Life told me to be careful and precise
To not step on others feet and to keep
My own pace and rhythm to decide.
I was astounded how difficult it is
To really dance with Life and not to weep.

There were so many techniques to study
And sure I was, it will take the whole of my life
To learn to dance with the best slenderness
Flying along with Life, as it is Him who always
Takes the lead and steers you along your path.

But Life was so eager to take me to dance
So I went along and learned the lessons
The wondrous steps I will always remember
And yet I have so many to learn.

Les maladies du beau coeur
qui viennent sans nul de peur
qui étonnent et brouillent l'âme
mais toujours avec la charme.

L'idealist bizzare qui vit en vous
Qui rit et qui pleut, elle vient d'où?
Le mond n'est pa aussi beau qu'elle rêve
Mais la songe et si belle, elle s'releve.

La sympathie naturelle
La compassion éternelle
Entre les deux mondes
Qui suivre l'âme au fond.

La songe tient toujours belle
Malgré toutes la surréelle.