February 2016 (3)

2 February 2016 at 23:21 (Poems/Poetry) (, , )

we share no passion for foreign languages
although a language helps to determine the accent
since we all communicate in English

anger is a fuel
mind’s contagion
infecting the flesh
for hell to spring in us
we simply cannot stop mourining
dead and gone
not even try to set the clock back
to before the loss
or keep it still for new losses not to occur

tomorrow may be better
maybe without breaking law
crying out of pain
whether future is a curse or a chance
could not be fully known
by a mankind with cold gunmetal
against the skin (18th September 2015)

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February 2016 (2)

2 February 2016 at 23:19 (Poems/Poetry) (, , )

a debt collector
ruthlessly lifting
poor family belongings
from own immune system –
tortures weak mortals

it is also a hazardous liquid
oozing as through God
has overlooked and left it running;
inevitably jealousy has closed in on God

it doesn’t laugh at the punch line
drily keeps pretending it’s all good
when at least some of it hurts
its voice seems to exist not
in the air but already in our blood –
makes it the only nourishment
we could be certain about (16th September 2015)

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February 2016 (1)

2 February 2016 at 23:03 (Poems/Poetry) (, , , , )

At city B the streets are shut down
nearly every summer weekend
for ulster bands to go through

peeve non – protestant communities

At city B bullets tearing body
scattering bones across front lawns
become BBC news novelty not a custom

yet unidentified crime still takes place

At city B mates discuss:
funerals, football and politics
phew – phew finger pistols aim at any correctness

At city B you let a waitress forget the gravy
mother smack a child in a grocery store
because citizens are a verb in passive voice

recreated and reshaped
aspiring to become part of a proper capital (27th August 2015)

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