synesthetic

our bridge is a colour I cannot pronounce
(not has, but is)
a shape, a melody
I long to hear out loud

but I am tongue-tied

not inevitably deaf by heart
but none the wiser for composing
a passage for this tune
while the map I thought we walked,
just falls apart

and we sing
oh how we sing
notebooks full of thread
where we knit our synesthetic jackets
in anonymity
and get to choose
where ever that is at

but then,

at every single cornerstone
I confoundingly realise, again
we're apparently hanging on
to both sides
of the same
transitional end

disentangle

how flat we lie
all tumbled down
wasted lines
from crown to grown

mischief
turning chaste
since war(ning) zone

grey colour times
fading from waiting
to hide

I quietly portray

this tune!
is what we need
won't you come down
and play

Undoubtedly

it feels like a shelter
but works like chain

your favourite case of preservation

keeping everything you want
and need
at bay

mark mistakes,
pre-made and detailed
best explained upfront

no need for hindsight learning
keep those possible edges blunt

always second guess decisions
anchor your gear
before you untie

refutabilities never fade
a one word grip
you keep at hand
not on-the-fly

but this is mission undeniable
a face in the window
you claim not to see

a bookmarked page
you decide to ignore
because the contents
seem to flee

this
is undesirable
unwritten,
too little formability

not how you declaim yourself;
way too indefinable, but

undoubtedly me

Who?

who would be in favour of
light conversation
babble on,
come on!
until dread do us part

who dares to savour the flavour
of collected mementos
stripped from every coloration
nuance this!
and taste
until finally we'd begin
to share the part

who?

is brave enough
to stand naked
in front of this here
holistic mirror
illuminating an association
until we no longer are a part

who
are you?

brave enough
to (just) be

Ubiquitous

it is always in the past
what lies before us
never now or later

I risk being outdated

a flashback light
frozen in time forever

a snapshot of what once was
but isn't anymore

be careful treading
or you'll name her ubiquitous
spreading further and further
way into tomorrow

where all I can say,
in my defence, is:

it is done

see me now

Weeping willow

captivating
and in awe

translating
to finally thaw

a frozen window

opportunities
abilities
we never see

or saw

wooden structure
hiding sight
from eyes that hide

from willow
that still draws

its own confusion

Basket-case

a nice description (don't you think)

not quite the basket
not nearly qualified as a case

just something silly in between

like a bag handle gone awry
carrying insides (out) around

on display

rather amazing, confusing, amusing (even)
(for those who'll find ...)

but it's not nearly a basket full
and never a certain case

just an illusion
full of if-onlys (and such)
leaving a sick-and-tired-of-skin-deep trace

wishing someone would start complaining
pushing for significance
to drop the litter

drop the craze

Bound

I still carry you around
my one lost cause

misconceived

understood, but disconnected

reeled around my heart
I pretend not to notice

like you don’t' notice, anymore

I spend my covert days
remembering, in hiding

thoughts of you no longer fed
a world of useless loss

I'm pulling at the cord that secures us
forever
but it's still bound too tight

and you are still

so close

Need

your touch isn't velvet

it's betraying

your hands not strong

but trembling

and I am weak

uncovered and poor

when judging I can handle

every stolen breath you take

when I'm in need of air

Light

while I'm blinded

I get to see

with eyes without colour

devoid of requite

this might

of only impression

have I ever mentioned

that I'm light-heartedly new

at this sudden adventure

of discovering my sight?

Listen

stranger things have happened
stranger than you and me
spiral thought of isolation
restricted from words
and struggling for life
forcing to be heard, to be set free

but you are only colour
not a face has yet been found
only emotion
curled into an intricate ball of fire
between you to me

and not a single word

only sound

Incite

another glance over your shoulder

come warm your unhealed heart
or does it unteach this broken start?

(you're doing it) over and over

every jump might throw the hurdle

every attempt to climb;
can make you fall, or burn, even further

but over and over (you still try)

o yes

but will you ever learn
(or is it maybe we forget)

there just is no turning back

only these unwritten white-sheet roads
stretching out before us

as sure as kindle

oh yes

look around you

...

somewhere ahead

rectif-filiate

I'll be the one
time travelling
back and forth
in and out
between there and then
and here and now

secretly making right
where we went wrong
blotting out the night blue sky
and erasing thoughts on notes
we started writing
to an unexpected song

to cut it short;
I'll be the one
reversing the necessity
to say goodbye
from where we clearly
did not belong

I'll eradicate
what turned out obvious
after breaking free

and I won't falter
to make sure
my entrance and exit
in whatever time
leave no trail or notion
that you could pick-up on

I will hold my breath, if needed
will not exhale, for a while
leave no sign or scent
or trace or torn, that you can meant

until I'm safely done and gone

I'll be the one
skipping beats
ever so often
until we're back

to where I won't be missed

I'll be the one
you'll find
stimulating your doubt
making sure you will believe
I did not ever really ...
exist

but only in your mind

No way!

Poetry Thursday – tackling the villanelle and wow was that fun or what? I really enjoyed doing doing this (and am now hoping I actually got it right).

No way!

no way of knowing whether you're out or in
that's the finer definition of being...
trapped underneath invisible skin

here we are, where uncharted territory begins
I'll sign my consent without seeing to what I'm agreeing
no way of knowing whether you're out or in

walk on through as long as you dare
feel the resonance of touching this snare
trapped underneath invisible skin

but don't be mislead in thinking this is me
you are blinded and I can't see
no way of knowing whether you're out or in

the last is a risk at the very beginning
treat this as a fight; you won't be winning
trapped underneath invisible skin

and when you rely on being yang to my yin
... you're actually spinning
no way of knowing whether you're out or in
trapped underneath invisible skin

Sparring;

en

garde

we invite

and engage

in our assault

a clear ballpoint slash

parry first…………………and I insist

….you disengage…………………..………. .I intercept

a mere platonic clash

. .bouton to battle……………………………………….know your forte

advance–balestra-lunge………………...………………………meet deception

colliding reprise………………………………………………………….a point in line

and here's yet another ..... priority touché

these are a few
of our bout
presentations
in phrases
and wordplay

for that
I thank you

my opponent
friend

salute and enchanté

Loss

For this weeks PT idea (dropping a line; choose a line from a poem by some one else and use it in a poem of your own), I chose our grey glacier awaits from Scotty - The Frog Prince. Thank you Scotty.

our grey glacier awaits
a ceaseless decline
of what we thought
our ennobled merit

a sudden fear for escape
in memory and reflection

for all the intricate build-up details
of whom we became
lie prominently in the past

where we no longer get to rejoice
at times of reminiscence

but now reside
in seemingly perfect peace

unaware of future truth
and present gliding loss

Goodbye

is a word spoken in silence

a wrapping up of gifts, memories

put away on shelves

in the basement of my mind

and in the years to come

you will still be my wonderful friend

to whom I raise my glass

of perfect tales to tell

bottled for reminiscence

at the day

of our final farewell

Apple pie

slowly,
he waves his treaty

one apple at a time

pie offered easily
needs no rhythm nor rhyme

name after name
(and counting)
they eat it all

expecting much of his bakery

but no one sees the cake crumble
before the stuffing falls

leaving them pulp
of putrid venom

(and me, a chance to announce: )

a flying pie wake-up call

Poetry Thursday – all about poetry

This letter was supposed to be a poem in which I wanted to explain what poetry means to me. But it's probably a bit naïve to think it would be easy to do.
I started real smart (yeah right) but soon ended up with all these questions to which I do not have the answers.
The influence of poetry is sort of a mystery to me. I guess that's the conclusion to my 'inquiry'.
Therefore the letter below is still a very rough version of something I'm not yet sure I'll ever be able to finish.

(Maybe I'd better advise to keep aspirins at hand. ;-)

Dear poet,

the slow transportation
from design
to the reader's mind
travels through the bloodstream
and the heart

connecting what
disguisingly clever
must be
irreversibly binding
from the start

this, of course, is objective; yours
mine; to observe
I am mere a willing receiver
absorbing through conduction
what's brought-on with hidden verve

but here I am
boldly wondering
at the base of my imaginary floor
examining this strange 'anomaly'
that some one I don't know
can simply walk in
without me having to answer my door

is poetry maybe best explained
as a connecting collection
of entangled thoughts
carved into exposing sculptures
in which insight and new creation
are mutually found and eagerly sought?

and is this the doorway to inspiration
a connection to either heart or head
or should it be called soul communication
embedding beautiful new memories
creating monuments
impossible to forget?

(and breath..)

Yours truly
A novice traveler you haven't met

(eagerly awaiting your insightful reply)

Poetry Thursday - More image inspiration

(Adonis and Aphrodite by Jits Bakker)

I've 'known' Jits Bakker his art for some time now and I never seem to be able to get enough of looking at it. This particular piece is one of my personal favorites. It seems complex and yet ... it makes absolute sense.

Below is the poem with which I respond to this weeks PT idea "more image inspiration". Happy PT everyone.

I have found myself in you
wrapped around and bundled in

I'm uncovered

in want
of discovery

for where do you
or I
begin

inside out we fold

and I am weak

in strength and certainty

that I will lose myself

where you are found

wrapped around

inside of me

Poetry Thursday - Image inspiration

(Sculpture of Cupid reviving Psyche with a kiss by Antonio Canova)

This week I think I cheated a bit (just a teensy bit). The moment I read the completely and totally optional idea – image inspiration, I saw a picture in my head I wanted to write down.
The picture of this wonderful sculpture I found afterwards, so it doesn't really belong to the poem but it does kinda fit.

your hands
feel restless
upon my hips

my fingers
slowly draw
the outline
of your trembling lips

cool velvet skin
in an eloquently fiery embrace

no one can call us
passive

caught forever
in amaranthines timeless gaze

Poetry Thursday – defining moments

(In short; describe a beautiful word before knowing its meaning.)

This week I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I had a list of all these words I'd scribbled down while rereading Jane Austen's Persuasion; a list of words I've wanted for long to do something with and now was my chance. Hooray, this was going to be wonderful.
Or so I thought.
Turns out, when you have a long list of 'wishes' you risk turning them into Frankenstein when you start 'claying' with them all at once.
But I took the risk and I did it.
I created a monstrous glob of words.
So after some nasty swearing I wisely accepted my defeat and decided to start over and this time very modestly, with just one word. Hope it worked.

yours is a world I remember
in stasis
like slumbering primal sleep

a déjà vu
of beautiful frozen faces

memories
waiting for the thaw
anticipating to follow-up
on creation

all the while
patiently waiting

…
my hidden atavistic sensation

private dialogue

you get noticed
a scene from afar
and you know this

(no secret here)

you accept
every carver's personal scar

and although I don't regret
we're somewhere somewhat 'the same'

I bend
and change to suit the scene

where you will stick to fundamental strength
without breaking down
from excessive claim

(and there's your cause for fame)

but now I need for you to open up
and still you're standing tall

acknowledging to me
that these are just

my very inspirational
(yet rather 'eccentric')

conversations with a wall

Poetry Thursday - no names please

This weeks completely and totally optional idea is 'no names, please'. Describe something without actually naming it.
I've enjoyed myself with this one. Went a little crazy at first because there are so many beautiful things in life and I couldn't decide right away what I wanted to write about.
But it turned out to be this.

Please click the picture to enlarge.

the games are over

no more Olympics
triathlons
survival …

whatever fits

there's just no prove
in being strong
(and if you think it otherwise
… you're wrong)

now's the time to face
value
in a race
against ourselves

to reach out for the best
the highest note
the crowning shelf

no more tests of endurance
no more fighting it free style
here is where it leads to
this is it
the final quest

will our hearts be truly capable
of running
the differentiating mile?

Unforgotten

we are like the sea
colliding icebergs

now, no longer free

mellow shaped
by years

we fit

laid back
and moonlit

unforgotten melodies
fill our ears

slowly kiss
salt on skin

soothing in waves

saline taste dissolve
forgotten tears

Poetry Thursday - the body knows

Two week ago I 'discovered' Poetry Thursday; a wonderful project to share poetry and inspire poetry writers. This weeks poetry prompt is the phrase 'the body knows'. Below you'll find my trial poem. Hope you like it.

our mind knows
visions are misleading
when we sit up straight
to stretch-out
seemingly significant worries

the heart ploughs
a muscle, busy exploring
the limits of a smile
'cause the body loathes
being submitted to our stories

(and yet, we're still running
the entire sleight mile)

Transmogri…flying

the Interceptor T cut through the sky
like a shining blade
in anticipation for the thrill
its goal was kept determinately steady
a prisoner through the visors eye

almost like a still

the first shot, not a lucky one
left the pilot swearing his complaints
this was not his day
but he had learned to put aside his feelings,
where it came to this;

he was a hunter and she was prey

why this bird, with little wings
had manoeuvring skills he couldn't defeat
turned questions into mantra's
racing through his mind
for what seemed to last for eons

he never recognized when he was bind
in just a single beat

focusing on mental imprint
to out scheme;
no matter what, or come what may
he wanted her secrets and he needed them now
and she would not go down his history

as the one that got away

but as it often goes with testing wings
when overdrive kicks in
both planes, turned bird of prey,
spin into unintended missions
and the reason for this courtship

breaks radio silence into a duet
voicing a mournful mayday

Spitting image

To read the island please click the picture.

Coincidences

coincidences; random chance
that just happens to be on display
coincidence is wishful thinking
or projection
but not important either way

without the proper word
every single thought is wrong
and as long as you agree with this
I'll be happy to safely tag along

let's not amaze, connect and entice
frustrate, anger and theorize

in between these spaces
lies a world left unsaid
creating its own story
build on our silence
but that's not important, forget

now all I need is one little thing;
a remedy
against your voice
your face
inside my head