Forget me not


When memories of me starts to fade

And the softness of my touch evokes no pleasant dreams of our brighter days

Drown not in sorrow and say for now love dies

Smile for i once was,

Forget me not

When on one wintry day i bid farewell.


Gustav Klimt, The Kiss,




Like doves that fly by in pairs,
Let those that see us praise.
Lovers that brag of knowing love hush now, silence.
Not does the baker parade with bread,
Nor the tinker with his pots.
Love is best enjoyed in silence,
When wolves howl not,
Witches and wizards when they slumber.
Like imaginary dreams of riding wild stallions.
Love is like Gustav’s the kiss
Let it walk your imagination
Step by step,
And savor its scent in grave quietness.
Like a kiss love is enjoyed with one’s eyes closed,
Loosely shut like a maiden smelling a daffodil.
Slow, slower like an oiled flowing stream of Arabia.
Dance not in our praise,
Nor carnival like in Rio.
Let’s like a candle in pitch darkness burn in silence,
Care not of the wind,
Eyes far in darkness will sing
And their shades around us dance.

And for us praises they will scream.


The Births



From when the sun sets,
Twilight in her golden dress departs.
Birds set for nests
Waving farewells to a day that melts
Into a time of slumber,
Pillow talks marshmallow soft
Salted laughs shared in exchange.
Touches and caresses as tender as a serpent’s deceit,
Bodies be one,
That time when clouds in darkness hide,
Camouflaged by night’s tuxedo.
Thoughts separate like fingers,
Fingers that explore under nylon sheets,
Tickling nipples like blind hatchlings
Till in months after,
Babies rain.

When am i going to see you again


We were strangers,
Whose sights seemed related.
That day by the mill
I remembered your scars,
Like I pictured my birth
Yet with inaccurate thought.
I heard my mind race,
As your breath’s warmth
Reached for my eye as you blew.
It touched my adrenaline’s youth,
I stood glued to imaginary sanity,
So why do horses run in my thoughts,
And why now does looking back become a nightmare.
Was i lost or was I in a dream,
In dreams people fly,
Like paper kites only to fall in a storm.
In dreams people are rich,
Only to rise to a stink of the old screaming bed.
But I saw you,
I felt your lips,
And your tongue’s tip
As they sealed like a concrete.
And sight of you became a harmonica,
That once blasted in prison,
That month I there grazed
I see you as much as I hear it.
Measure for pleasure and toil,
All is and always will be at par.
When am I going to see you again?

Weeping Strings

There is a violin playing in my head,

Its strings tighter as if it will break.

Its sound keeps me on the edge,

I fear it will rip or should i let it

Serves me the torture of its oppressed cry

For the more it plays, the more it strains my soul.


There is a violin playing in my head,

Days and nights in fold i fear it is unending.

The joys of solitude though,

Will i survive this phase i wonder.




The verses of Epecticus, a wartime wife



I will stand a true lover

A mighty lover that towers like venus

In the time and season that nightingales sing, and die

And the damned in their slumber cry for they did not in their time love.

i will stand a true lover

Through the pains of a lonely winter’s caress and the summer’s solitary memories

Until  war ends,

And the old war  wagon ferries your body or you to me

As long as you promise to come

I will wait.


The story of falling



Close your eyes and fall,

I promise i will catch you.

Like months before

In that season when once summer arrived.

We ran under the season’s temperate sun

Picking flowers that bloomed by the summery sun’s touch.

Under the shade of sycamore fig trees we shared sweet laughter,


This plays over and over in my head, though it hasn’t happened yet

In this life or will it.

Fall i promise i will catch you,

Though before this they watched you fall.

But if in case from my arms you slip and fall,

I shall like jewels pick you up with care,

Dust you, and forever watch you

So you will never again under my watch fall.




Forget not the unending velds of promises,

The caresses and love’s passionful whispers.

Forget not the fun,

The gaze when deep in my soul you stared and my internal  roses would bloom.

Forget not the picnics we had,

deep in the meadows of time, careless

Forget not the sweet love we made,

The deep kisses, the secret fondles, the cuddles

There then where you painted a portrait of you on battlements of my heart.

True you did conquer me, my all.

Forget not the poetry lines from William’s sonnets,

The witty quotes from Keats’s odes

That you to me recited to a candlelight’s silent dance.

Forget not this,

For it reminds me of you.

Fill my Cup


Fill my cup so to this day i drink,

More and more fill it to the brim.

Let the potency of a good old ale

Carry me to the intoxication’s brink.

For today to this i drink,

Till in a wasted swamp all i do is blink.


Fill my cup so to this day i drink,

To the death of the wicked i gulp,

And to the heathen’s demise i imbibe.


I drink to love’s divine , thus peace flourishes

Lovers love true, pacifists sing, ……….i drink

The beat of earth’s heart through it all,

i dance to its gong.


Dear Manchester


, ,

Your beauty dear city does to my sight appeal,

Your masonry structures an architectural wonder.

Darling winds do make your days humid,

Your wintry days fairy tale white

Yet still your beauty through it all like daffodils bloom.

Your people with wit speak, accent strong

Like from Shakespeare they all were born.

Yonder i heard terror there struck dear city,

Fear not neither  the confused hate of Islamic lads

Nor the impotent roar of an ailing lion of  terror, if it is.

Strong you are sacred city of the Queen,

Your people in viking blood done swam.

Forever bloom and sing with the sun,

For those that departed

Are with their Gods.





The heartbeat of my footsteps

As yonder away from you i depart.

The wail of your grieving heart

A burden to my unsure legs that shiver,

And yet carry me on yonder more.

The flame of passion long departed you i saw,

And from your smile love for me slowly faded.


Your cuddle became cold

Your promises archaic , old

All the sweet whispers you once told

Truth, or is it? no longer can my heart hold.

Thus i whisper a fondless adieu.