the sun from behind bars

the sun from behind bars

Silken Sheets
Waves
Hazel Brown
Dunes of Dance
The Daughters Song
Runaway
Genuine Roulette
Bath
The Kind of Dark
Nameless Soldier
Falling Red in Palestine
Simplicity
Bread
Grey
Something Solid
Pure

Silken Sheets

We were wondering
about things, always.
Sometimes I left behind
my entire mind
between her silken sheets.
Whenever I needed
she compelled me
to eventually be
peacefully breathing
as my tendencies
of causticity
towards the world
melted in her arms.
She quietly silenced
my feisty heart.

Waves
Laughter arrived on high horses.
To ride along with the sun.
Your buried smile died with the crying wind.
Unknown reasons for losing your inner peace.
Sailing far, as taken by aging waves.
Perhaps a lack of desire
to make it stay, takes it.
Breaks it, every other day,
in front of your smiling face.

Manic Love
Will you not tell me what to do
to cheer you up from this down,
to take away your deepest frowns?
Talk to me,
like you talk to the wind.
Tell me your love.
Give me your trust.
Tell me your sins.
I will not lose,
I shall not win.
It is just this heart of mine,
trapped somewhere in between time.
It desires to know you,
and wishes to show you
the world with not a single breeze.
If only for a silent moment,
frozen in time.

Hazel Brown
It were never her words
to make me surrender.
The shape of her mouth
and innocence of heart.
The evil that made me shiver
and of which I could not
be restrained to speak of,
she never saw.
I remember dark circles, lined
around hazel brown.
And the shiny kind of glistering;
reflections of our highs.
I never knew why
with spring passing by,
I had to deny
her, more often than not,
the taste of my lips.
The inner sides of my thighs.
A moment I wonder if he
changed my direction in time.
It was not him nor the minds
awareness of the unacceptable.
She remains the brightest,
the most beautiful.
I never stopped
to get caught up again,
losing time in the shine of eyes
as bright as hers.

Or any eyes.
No mans, no womans.

Dunes of Dance
Wrapped in gentle shades of red and violet silk,
Barefooted they dance on dunes of heated sand,
Hand in hand, light as dried petals.
Ten staring men are reminded of honey and milk,
As they wake up in states of lust,
Numbed by the sound of waterfalls.
The dancers do not travel by names or age
She, them, they, the sisters, they say
They never seem strange or ashamed
Untamed they remain unknown and unnamed
And every sin is carefully washed off in the rain
A hundred stains from the hands of ten men
A light-hearted dance of dunes

The Daughters Song

Tried so hard to compose a melody.
Screamed louder than the sound of rainfall.
Ran faster than the antelopes.
Went to the end of this world,
and beyond.
Tried so hard to compose a melody.
Screamed at the top of the last humans lungs.
Ran beyond where I could run.
Went to the end of the clouds,
but I did not find the sounds of sun.
Daughter, tell me,
what have we become?
Father, I never desired
a blinding sound, or a covering song.

Runaway
At night a mind
cannot fall asleep.
Feet carry bones over
miles of concrete.
Legs are hurting,
running deep streets.
Distant lights
burning tired eyes.
Mindless desire
that they would
dim them at night.
Knees falling apart
and slowly crush
under the weight.
Breathing in,
breathing out pain.
At night a mind
cannot drift away
before every part
is sore and exhausted.
A night will come
where its being
has lost it.
The restless will know
how the miles
did not cause it.

Genuine Roulette
A genuine vodka
thins some blood,
blurs out a mind in time,
destroys a young body
with time passing by,
my love.
Young woman in the rain.
You have been painfully
lucky to maintain
so bitterly sane throughout this
game of nothingness.
Now let him end it.
Tick, tick, the sound
of little parts of ocean,
surrounding your body
in the bloody bruised house.
It is your weather in motion.
Now leave trough the storm.
Russian roulette, it is
madness.
Nothing more.

Bath
In a world burned
by desires and distrust
the damaged soul of a mother
carried a frightened heart,
a tied heart.
Unlike many others,
this was a rare one,
a kind heart,
a wise heart.
Even with a heart
disabled to feel love
she knows
how to breathe love,
through injustice
and loss.
Born first,
absorbing the hurt,
she bathed me in a soap
that would wash off earths dirt
from the shoulders
of my unbroken soul.
She provided me with
the resilience to remain whole.
Any strength
that might be found
through my weakness,
within my being,

in my speech,
in my breathing,
is hers.

The Kind of Dark

One day we came across selfishness.
It was red, the kind of dark red.
The red of dried blood.
One day we came across greed.
It was green, the kind of dark green.
The green of weed in the shades.
One day we came across pity.
It was blue, the kind of dark blue.
The blue of oceans at night.
One day we came across envy.
It was purple, the kind of dark purple.
The purple of dried berries.
We absorbed the kind of dark.
And it colored our world.
We came across so much more.
But our minds were as tired
as our hearts were feeling sore.

Nameless Soldier
A name became a number before
another number. No longer
than the end of days.
Numbers between six
wooden walls. Another alone
between these stones
marking the state.
Wood for fire to burn cold.
The minds hunger makes days
longer. Breadcrumbs they ate.
Drowning in thirst,
bullied by rain.
Burning flaming flags, by soldiers and protest.
Freedom they seek but starvation
makes weak as justice is chased.
Soldiers remain
thirsty and hungry longing
in vain.

Falling Red in Palestine

Falling drops
Catching fire from sunlight.
Brighten the sky, enrich the ground.
Fire flies all around
The waterfalls.
Nothing but the sound
Of falling water.
One pair;
There are no others
To share constructs of nothing with.
As no sin could
Possibly, be.
Owner of
The lips intended to
Talk away the lying of days.
Lonely crimes only exist
To commit.
In pain lies authority
To make forget
What we cannot forgive.
Sensitive skin
Touched by calming water.
No heart warms from outside, within.
Restatements of truth begin
The sin.
Air turned cold before

The water froze.

Raindrops crystallize
Into stone cold rocks of ice.
They smash into bruising skin until
No skin is left
To bare.
The mind is silent
While tongues speak.
Loud sounds
What came from none.
Not one could ever be unsaid
Or returned, once they were heard.
Sequences of tenses,
Senselessly burn.

Simplicity
How the simplicity of rain is able to explain
how there is nothing to life but to maintain
through all that shall pass and whatever
was supposed to last for now and forever
but did not escape the rule of existence
or the truth that lies in forgiveness.

Bread

Two men across the street

their bench, made of wood
untied each others shoes.
Their feet felt numb.
On their mind, all but time.
They knew not a friend, not an enemy
who gave them direction.
A friendly passenger decided
to share some bread.
The men nodded their heads.

Grey
Memories of green
abandoned us
slowly, during the deepness of our sleep.
Leaving us wondering
why we agreed to take it,
and waste it all.
Grey skylines
welcome some of us
as the homeless walk the streets.
Leaving us wondering
why we agreed to sell it;
the gift of life.
Our children are born
with death in their eyes.
All that is left of us;
we find it as we hear
the sincerity in their cries.
There is only the promise that
one day they will die.
Beauty of body,
beauty of art,
tasteless food.
None of it has any good to it;
there is no use to it.
We are no more
but craving capitalists.

Something Solid
I walk with sore feet
High on heels until I no longer hurt.
No longer feel.
The mirror reflects me, therefore I am
Real.
Love I will find in whatever
Shines bright.
That God-send comfort
Of neglecting my heart.
Producer of plastic placed bags.
They added some weight.
Two cuts though my soul,
Under my skin.
For the heaviness I compensate.
My legs, my arms
Starvation made them thin.
Someones object to possess.
My desire to be desired
Will never be less.
I stopped thinking about..
I stopped thinking.
Brains made of solid plastic.
Barbie looks fantastic.
Please, desire me more.
Solid desire
Provides solid comfort.
Something solid for some years.
They wont burn,

My plastic tears.
They might melt away
My face.

Pure
Do we have to be pure
Before our observations of the world
Could be of any meaning
Before our spoken words
Could be of any meaning
For the whole truth to be heard
Before our descriptions could be of any worth
Do we have to become pure