amongst the chaos
find the slightest scraps of hope,
this make us human
haiku
The Faithful
they beheld the world
in finely spoken sermons
written in dead tongues
Devil Inside
a poet awakes
the devil within his soul
his pen is ready
Les Temps des Fleurs
once silken petals
fall as dust upon the earth
and mark the lost days
Forest
spring plays with her eyes
new life in nature’s colours
lost in her forest
Lava
I once was lava
free flowing and full of flame
now only cold stone
Crate-Dug
the old record plays
and found under its crackles
the sound of silence
Dragon
I trace a dragon
with my fingers on your thigh
can you feel its breath?
Strigoi
what ripe fruits are these
staining full her lips’ desires
blood red strawberries.
Trees
what company they
who have stood apart from us
for millennia?
they who were our womb
when first we looked to the skies
and made from them gods
yet still they watch us
truer sentinels are they
our saviours, these trees
