it is Christmas

the little boy
happily playing
with his shiny new toys
is oblivious to the
dark cloud that envelopes
his parents

I am sad as I sense
that this might be the
last Christmas
when both parents
watch him play

I am alone
in the big, pulsating city.
Walking through the crowded streets
I watch the faces
of the people rushing past:
so many stories,
so many questions
and no answers.

you tell me
that I still have not
reached closure
after my divorce
and thus have failed
to leave behind the pain
his betrayal has caused

what I cannot
understand however
is why you refuse
to leave him
even if his betrayal
is giving you so much pain

black coffee
strong coffee
bewitching smell
seductive taste
hopeful promise
happy me

I do not know you
but I like talking to you
You are far away
and yet so close
Your voice which I cannot remember
gives me comfort
in times of chaos and pain
Your eyes which have never caught my gaze
tell me that I shall be fine
You accidentally crossed my path
and yet it seemed so purposeful
I think I would like to know you

yesterday
you said
you love me

today
you leave me
forever

tomorrow
you will lie
in my arms

sometimes
I am not sure
whether I am
coming or going
succeeding or failing
creating or destroying
supporting or opposing
agreeing or contradicting
loving or hating

Sometimes I am not sure
whether I am in the past
or in the present
I look at you
You still seem to be the same
and yet
I do not recognise
the man I am looking at

Why do I care
when you do not

Why do I cry
when you just laugh

Why do I leave
when you want to stay

Why am I concerned
when you are not

Why am I confused
when I am with you

On Sunday I showed
my son the land
he said.
I took him to the woods
that our ancestors
had planted
so that he would learn
what he was part of.

I listened quietly
and wondered
why I had never learned
what I was part of.

she is beautiful.
long black hair
dark skin
and a captivating smile.
her black dress
highlights her slender figure.
with her brown eyes
demanding his attention
she tells him
about her work.

he sits opposite her
relaxed and attentively listening.
he asks one or two questions
but most of the time
she is talking.
he seems disengaged.
only when I look at his eyes
can I see his burning desire.

she feels strong
she is happy
she is celebrating
that she has crossed the line
gone beyond convention
and followed her heart

if I understood
what makes you smile
I would give it to you

Love seems to come in cycles for me
Two years ago it was him
And now it is you

But you are different and much kinder
And yet when I look into your eyes
I know you are also the same
And I anticipate you leaving me

MORNING:
Run to the station
Buy ticket
Buy coffee
Jump on the train
Find a seat
Fall asleep

EVENING:
Run to the station
Find ticket
Buy coffee
Jump on the train
Find a seat
Fall asleep

Sometimes when I am dancing
in my flat
I sense your presence

You hold me tight
and our bodies merge
to the rhythm of the music

I know
you will be here soon
and I turn up the music
with joy

You say to me
if I do not stop
looking at the dark side
I will never be in love again.

So I decide to turn my head
and look at the bright side.

I am
crying
but you do not
come

I am
screaming
but you do not
hear

I am
calling you
but there is
no response

so I decide
to go out
with him

yesterday
rushing to the train
the train is late again
waiting for the train

today
rushing to the train
the train is late again
waiting for the train

tomorrow
rushing to the train
the train is late again
waiting for the train

I do not need you
you do not need me
it is time to depart

You sit at your table
Glass of beer in front of you
Gazing at me with desire

I sit at my table
Glass of wine in front of me
Wondering about your desire

What is holding us back from making the move

The difference between you and me is
that
I have forgiven him
but
you have not forgiven her

You want me to be your friend
Someone you can tell
What pains you suffer
because of her

I want you to be my lover
Someone I can tell
What pleasures I desire
because of you

Our paths will never cross

I can see
how angry you are
because you believe
I always let you down.

How can I convince you
that this depends on one’s perspective?

I think I shall ask you
to trust me and
to change your perspective
so that you can see my true intentions.

he sits
opposite her
his face
slightly turned
to the right
his eyes
fixed at a point
far in the
distance

she looks
at him
her face
is motionless
but her eyes
tell me
how sad
she is

hopeless
he said
watching her
paint

she felt
his disapproving
gaze
and froze

she knows
that she needs
to disconnect
to be able to make
new connections
but sadly she lacks
courage to act

should I stop writing
the poet wonders
would it make a difference
if I did something else instead
could I then help to make
the world a better place

Words, words, so many words.
Where do I begin?
Where do I end?
What is my story?
Do I have a story?
Do I need a story?
Is anybody interested in my story?
It is only me who writes.
Words, words, so many words.

You look so vulnerable
Having fallen asleep on the chair
I would like to kiss you
But I know you are dreaming of her

I like the way you look at me
Kind and tender and loving

I like the way you touch me
Full of passion and desire

I like the way you hold me
Strong and tight and purposeful

But I do not like the way I meet you
Always in my dreams

yesterday
pain

today
pain

tomorrow
the same

she sits
in her comfy chair
looking back
at the year
and sighs
what holds me back
to do the things
I yearn to do
what paralyses me
when I decide to change
well worn habits
what sabotages
all my plans
carefully designed
to improve my life
she takes a deep breath
hoping to find the answer
to all her questions

she looks at me
and smiles
as she can see
that I struggle
to find an ending
to my story

enjoy the process
she quietly says
knowing that
this will not
be easy

she
ran
ran
ran

without looking back just
ran
ran
ran

she had no goal
she had no fear

she
ran
ran
ran

I am sitting
in the shadow
of the old eucalyptus tree
admiring its silvery leaves

When will you come
and sit next to me
in the magic
of the ancient tree

I am sad
that I cannot be
where you are
although
I understand
why I am excluded

Calmness is descending upon me
contentment is slowly taking over my heart
my soul expectantly opens to the future
as happiness appears on the horizon

brown eyes
kind eyes
smiling eyes
his eyes

blue eyes
bright eyes
longing eyes
my eyes

If it has been your intention
To hurt me
You have succeeded

If it has been your intention
To get back at her
By hurting me
You have failed

I am sitting
in the living room
of our family home.

I listen to the stories of
happiness and sadness,
success and failure,
love and hate,
hope and despair
and the never ending support
and suffering of the women
who lived in the house.

I am grateful
that my mother
is selling the house.

he asks:
where do you feel at home

I answer:
in my favourite London bookshop which has seven shelves
labelled “poetry”

I try to remember what you look like.

I have only seen you once
accidentally passing by
when my thoughts were occupied
with grief and sorrow.

Soon I shall meet you again.

But will I find you
amongst all these people?

she takes
a deep breath
straightens
her body
and stands tall
I can do it
she smiles
and makes
the first step
to begin her
new journey

You have lost your creativity
he says
looking sad and disappointed.

I have only switched my focus
she responds
looking happy and content.

I came
to the foreign city
hoping to find myself
but instead
I have lost myself
even more

I am alone
in a foreign country.
Where are
my friends?
Where are
my pleasures?
Where is
my happiness?
Why am I here?

I want to learn Chinese
so that I can understand
what he is saying to me
she sighs with sorrow

Her sadness confuses me
as I have always believed
that the language of love
can be understood
without learning

looking at
the feather
on the pavement
she remembers
that as a little girl
it had been
her dream
to be a poet
when growing up
however
she sadly
had to let go
of her dream