The Keeper of the In…

Remember when you were lightening,
in the dark so wholly frightening.
You were the free one, so fantastic,
Wise as Thales, deep with magic

You escaped the demon slaying:
You escaped the holy, praying:
And you escaped a mind,
lost fraying.

I followed footsteps in the twilight:
I called to others to save your limelight.
Yet in the morn’ you’d lost the sunlight!
I summoned voices to save your last night…

I knew you could, you would, return –
Your name would once again
The throats of others burn.

We could’ve lived on forever
Although I pleaded, you claimed never,
Days would come when I’d know fever
Bear this heat (with you, survivor).

Our web of lies will not be forgotten
Another fable of the truly rotten
This high-hyped-pyre, this treaty written
Large of sound, yet lite on wisdom

Echoes of your grand lightening
Once in the dark, so wholly frightening.
You seemed the free one:
Pulsing magic.
Was just my minds burst –
thoughts fantastic.

  • this is an edited version of poem originally posted in summer of 2015.

A train of thoughts…

In the middle of the night
I lay and listen to the rain
In our hot room the sounds of splash
draw out my deep thought train
Were you not here so short-a-time-ago
to sweat with mine
The ticks might tock by
so bloody slow
hammering out my empty time
Through this din of rain and thunderous clocks
my thoughts collect on you
I’m sure though slow these days will fly
and bring me close in time to you

Sense The Skin

As skins mingle
our senses tingle
to an extreme –
we start to scream!

To glimpse a ghost
I tease my host
and in return these bodies burn.

So, reaching into her domain,
I know that we will burn again –
in the twisting of her mind:
the only place where she is kind!

As these feelings end we go to start again
And I decide, now, where to go
Where night gets lighter, writhing slow.

By WolfgangRieger - Marisa Ranieri Panetta (ed.): Pompeji. Geschichte, Kunst und Leben in der versunkenen Stadt. Belser, Stuttgart 2005, ISBN 3-7630-2266-X, p. 185, Public Domain,

By WolfgangRieger – Marisa Ranieri Panetta (ed.): Pompeji. Geschichte, Kunst und Leben in der versunkenen Stadt. Belser, Stuttgart 2005, ISBN 3-7630-2266-X, p. 185, Public Domain,

Over (tribute)

Play it slow; wake me when it’s over.
Feel the music lift you, love a supernova.

Sleep is quiet.
Sleep is quiet when I’m with you.

Faking love: Push me I roll over,
feel so warm inside – join me in a Rover.

Floating past, gone further than ever.
Quiet, dark, solitude.
Now the moments over.

Dreaming still,
Standing still, dreaming that I’m with you.
Now the feeling’s over.

Passing

Blue panes filter white light through
In your eyes the reflections within
And this time I’ve lost it
I’ve lost all this time…

One night which flew quick was won
Sleeping with you I tried keeping
Alas my frailty shone
All pleasantry’s gone
The night was soon morning
When it’s my time to go.

And brush a thought free

Warmly in embrace you lie
brushing ears with slumbers sigh
caressing
flesh pressed close in dreams
In night breeze
where no light breaks
Your glued tight eyes flicker
dance
breast heaves
lips mouth silent ethereal chat

 

[reposted, from 2011]

Rhetoric

How is it slightly shocking
when the jokers cease their mocking?
When our silent door’s been knocked in?
When this time spent out is slept in?
How our lovers call their debts in?

Why does the thought make criers
of those bigots
maggots
liars?
All the cheaters and deceivers?
All the thieves-crooks-plebs-receivers?

Where can the buck be halted?
Why is the last,
defaulted?
Where are our truths remoulded?
Why are our mem’ries jolted
and when will this Hate be hated?!

[from November 2011]