summer

.stumbling through shrinking shadows
…..sleeping like black cats
………in the midday heat
…..clinging to the walls
.reduced to dreaming of cool darkness
…..flowing past tired limbs
.stumbling unseeingly past brown straw blades
…..vibrant burning roses
………hazy blurred air above melting asphalt
.each step is an effort – eyes only
…..on the next bit of near non-existent relief

How to know it’s love

When leaving hurts
and I watch until the car is
a small spot on the horizon
watch until I see the last kiss
blown to me
before he turns the corner and
is gone

When I hear his voice
singing the lyrics to me
having heard him in my head
so many times, filling my senses
listening to our songs in the dark

When I see hearts everywhere
in apple peel, in cookie dough
classically in the clouds
in rocks and in currrents of water
and ice cream blobs on the sidewalk

When I feel a twitching
where my heart is
seeing people holding hands
in the halls
twinge of longing for his

When I can’t let him go
Once… I had to make a decision:
Let go, rip myself free
and drift off into the sky
or stay linked to the ground
He chose to let me fly
If you love something, let it go
If it comes back, it will stay forever
I traveled freely,
but my mind and heart have stayed since then

When he protects me from bad dreams
pure presence alone prevents
nightmares sneaking in
through the open door of the balcony

When I feel warmth rising
through me at the smallest cause
his name in print somewhere
seeing a picture, living a situation
which conjures him up in my mind

And – of course – when he’s there
and filling my senses with his love
smiling, and whispering, and dancing
his eyes hold mine captive
and his arms embrace me strongly,
I feel at home there.

That’s when I know it’s love!
What are your signs?

 

 

Can stand for itself I guess. I started it in the dark, when I was feeling elated after a nightly bikeride.

I denke, dieses Gedicht spricht für sich selbst. Angefangen habe ich es in Hochstimmung nach einer nächtlichen Fahrradfahrt.

Delight

Nightfall had come slowly
with orange and pink softness
The longest day was
Over.
We stood
Awed
in a dome of glowing lights
under the leafy dark canopy
mirrored
in yet another dome above
and as we ventured out
I understood
for the first time
the meaning of starlight
There was no moon
to guide our path
yet unerred footsteps
took us back
The rushing of ocean waves
filled our hearts
and was mirrored in the rushing of wings
as our souls took flight…

This is a poem about a beautiful moment in time in a beautiful place on earth – a warm summer night in a glow worm grotto in Hicks Bay, New Zealand. By the way, I am not really happy with the title, which seems too small for the feeling and the poem. If you can think of a better one, please comment!
//The original title was „starlight“, but I’ve changed it according to a suggestion I got in response to this post.

Dieses Gedicht ist ein Versuch einen wunderschönen Moment an einem wunderschönen Ort festzuhalten. Erlebt habe ich diesen Moment in einer warmen Sommernacht in einer glow worm grotto (glow worms sind eben keine Glühwürmchen, aber auch sie leuchten im Dunkeln) in Neuseeland.
Übrigens bin ich nicht so ganz zufrieden mit dem Titel, der mir einfach ungenügend für dieses Gefühl und das daraus resultierende Gedicht vorkommt. Wenn jemanden also etwas besseres einfällt: Ich freue mich über Vorschläge in den Kommentaren!
//Anmerkung: Der ursprüngliche Titel war Starlight, mittlerweile habe ich ihn nach einem Vorschlag angepasst.

NaPoWriMo 30: Wednesdays

Week after week
Wednesday waits for me
with words of love
If we are within reasonable distance:
Spoken, whispered into my ear
smiled at me or
hummed to the melody
of a song we like
Over 10000 km apart
my evening was your morning
and sometimes Wednesday slipped into
Thursday for me, listening to
your voice on the phone
making me blush,
or dance
or simply smile into my soul.
And then Wednesdays are maildays
not as romantic as perfumed paper
in thick parchment envelopes
with dark drops of ink
forming accidental heart-blots –
just letter’s modern cousin – the e-mail,
but it still resurrects that feeling
of anticipation, excitement, quickening my heart-beat
when I see your name in the inbox
then words appear, words to be read and reread
again in times of loneliness and absence
words to warm me inside
week after week
Wednesday is our day!

 

Today is the final day of NaPoWriMo, this month of poetry is almost over. The last prompt was to write about a recurring event, something that happens over and over. One of my week-structuring events is the arrival or writing of an e-mail on Wednesday.

Ein letztes Gedicht für NaPoWriMo. Heute war unser Thema, über Dinge zu schreiben, die sich wiederholen. Für mich ist das zum Beispiel das mittwöchliche Öffnen und Lesen oder Schreiben einer E-mail, voller Poesie und Gefühlen und Alltag.

NaPoWriMo 29: Watchful

Like ice
they reflect the world
from their polished surface
keeping hidden the dark depths
of the rivers within
spectres like wisps of cloud
traveling lightly in their mirrors
be they storm, saphire,
water, lightning, tea
in color
Thoughts flitting across the surface
like flat stones flipping
across a lake
In dark nights
I see the stars reflected
in yours.

 

I have a book of poetry which is illustrated with quilted pictures and artwork in cloth and fabric, and one of my favorite poems from it is „How to be a friend“ by Pat Lowery Collins, because it is so on the point – short and clear. The problem is, there are no concrete nouns in it. So I chose instead another poem I hold dearly, which was written for me, and from it, the word eyes, to work with today’s prompt.

Heute sollten wir uns aus einem Lieblingsgedicht ein konkretes Nomen aussuchen, zu diesem brainstormen und daraus ein neues Gedicht formen. Mein Wort ist „Augen“ (also auf Englisch ;) ) aus einem für mich geschriebenen Gedicht, das aber auch auf Englisch ist. Außerdem hab ich das Wort bei der Bildersuche im Web als Anfrage genutzt und daraus weitere Ideen gezogen.

NaPoWriMo 28: Tired Clouds

Breathe in breathe out
mind’s a cloud
thoughts so loud
all a crowd
days are so long
full of song
full of wrong
full of time
not quite, but rhyme
write to clear clouds
inside it shouts
stop! – Go to bed
eyes are dead
tired – day’s
end now – ways
still to walk but
not now – now what?
sleep. . .

 

Today’s prompt was to write a skeltonic, that is a poem without a clear rhyme scheme and using dipodic verse. At the moment I am really tired, so I guess that shows in my poem – the short lines help though.

Momentan bin ich einfach nur sehr müde, das spiegelt sich wohl auch im Gedicht. Aber die Gedichtform, die heute vorgestellt wurde, passt auch irgendwie dazu: kurze Verse, zwei Betonungen pro Vers (hoffe, dass ich das hinbekommen habe…) und kein klares Reimschema.

NaPoWriMo 27: Childhood Tastes

My childhood tasted like
peanut butter and honey
melting on toast and
in my mouth
mingling with cherries
under hot italian sun

My childhood tasted like
salt on daddy’s skin
When he came home
from biking
we would cling to him
and lick it off his arms

My childhood tasted like
poppyseed-cake once a year
marking the beginning of a new one
with sweet paradise cream
and poppy seeds stuck
between teeth

My childhood tasted like
Dentinox on hurting teeth
Camomile sweetness and
that something else
took the hurt away

My childhood tasted like
gatorade and snow
winter slushies tangy
artificial sweetness
collected in plastic cups
then straight under the tap

My childhood tasted like
„Plätzchen“-dough
special Christmas Cookies
were the best before baking,
together with that flavor
of mischief and secrecy

 

Today we were prompted to write about taste. Actually this morning I had the taste of rain in my mouth (guess what? It’s raining here ;) ) – but then something smelled like one of my childhood tastes and I decided to write about that instead.

Heute war das Thema Geschmack. Darüber hatte ich noch nicht viel geschrieben, normalerweise sind ja visuelle und auditive Eindrücke stärker. Trotzdem gibt es einige Geschmäcker, die für mich mit Erinnerung verbunden sind, mit Kindheit. Darüber habe ich heute geschrieben.