ON THE 28TH DAY OF THE YEAR

People who commit genocide,

people who support genocide,

people who ignore genocide

they are all today commemorating a genocide,

they are all today telling how terrible thing is a genocide,

they are all today telling "Never Again!" a genocide

which they don't conmmit themselves,

which they don't support themselves,

which they don't ignore themselves.

28.01.2026

ZIONISTS

You have committed a genocide

and you celebrate it,

you mock the murdered,

you mock the survivors,

and you declare

that no one can criticize the genocide,

that no can be allowed to oppose

you, the genocidaires.

That you do whatever you want

because who you are.

And you expect

and you demand

that all still mourn a genocide

that ended over eighty years ago,

genocide which according to you

gives you the 'right' to commit this genocide,

which must be praised

because you did it.

You want to be genocidaires

and you want to be genocide survivors,

and one can't be both.

Which leaves you being genodidaires.

26.01.2026

COMPARE

A thousand people or more dead

in the fighting in Rojava

and those who lament the slaughter

of protestors in Iran

look away, waiting

for the United States

to bomb Iran for Shah's son

and Israel, as a Kurdish dream

dies in yet another

American betrayal,

in yet another

European silence.

24.01.2026

ALTERNATE EVOLUTION

Translating you see the possible paths

the poem could have taken

and while staying on the true path

for the translation,

you also take an another path

and walk it to a homage

that can go no farther

than where that path ends,

or a poem that might have

enough wings if not to fly

then to glide past

where that path ends,

leaving you behind.

23.01.2026

YOU CAN FIND JOY IN LITTLE THINGS

You can find joy in little things,

the first Paranthropus found in Afar

extending the hominid's range,

that you walked to the mailbox and back

today, picking up a new bank card,

that the walk evoked vague memories

of other winter days that no photograph

had captured and were until now lost,

that you told a few people what Prabowo

did in East Timor when you yourself

still hadn't learned to read or write,

that you lived to write these lines,

and that after the last word and the dot

you will get up and make coffee

and start translating Yeats

and that in the endlessly branching

multiverse billions and trillions of you

will live to get the Yeats done.

23.01.2026

THINGS EXIST WHETHER WE SEE THEM OR NOT

1

It grows dark, and in the air

the white snowflakes

must still be descending,

but you can't see them as

the black trees merge

with the black air

behind your windows,

closing you in,

into the night.

2

Things exist

whether we see them

or not,

falling from the hidden

clouds in the black,

snowflakes

settle on the snow

in the abyss of the night,

as your light goes out.

23.01.2026

AND OUR EUROPEAN LEADERS IGNORE IT ALL

Eleven children dead of cold in Gaza,

one hundred and sixty-eight children killed

directly during 'a ceasefire' by Israel,

thousands of children needing a medical

evacuation and left without,

and our European leaders ignore it all,

refusing to do or even say anything at all,

because they claim they gave Gaza

to Donald Trump, that he will 'solve' it,

and they can now just talk about Ukraine,

pleading Donald Trump not to abandon

the sacred, holy Ukrainians,

the holy, sacred Ukrainians,

and demand regime change in Iran

because Donald Trump wants it -

having quickly dropped demand

for regime change in Venezuela

because Donald Trump said he

just wanted the oil -

and to plead with Donald Trump

not to attack Denmark and Greenland

and to respect the vague words

he exchanged with a Dutch scoundrel,

and all the other things

they say they want to talk

about with Donald Trump,

while Palestinian children are killed

by Israel's occupation forces

and die of cold and lack of medical care

every day in Gaza.

23.01.2026

THE ONLY THING WORTH MORE

He spreads her gifts 

on the table,

treasures all

from a treasure,

the only thing worth more

than these 

would be the pearl

herself on his lap.

22.01.2026

BRING DOWN THE WALL

Days gone now like this,

interesting times bring

forth anger, spending

fifteen or sixteen hours

doing nothing but posting

of the atrocities,

crowdfunders some of which

you suspect to be fake

and rest not enough

to truly help the people

putting their hopes on them

(but what else do they have,

living in a tattered tent

or the bombed shell of a home),

then an hour of verse,

and it comes out lacking,

poetry, all but the anger

which is plentiful,

so very plentiful

at these interesting times

we are living through,

walking past the wall

blocking the future,

seeking a gate

that might not be there.

Should just bring down

the wall and those

standing upon it.

22.-23.01.2026

ON THE 23RD DAY OF THE YEAR

Temperature plummets,

snowflakes descend leisurely

past trees rising in sombre

Gothic glory, solitary

pedestrian approaching

I leave the mailbox behind

and start my walk back home

in the deepening gloom.

You never know who it might

be. It could be someone

you knew

a million years ago,

and still expects to be remembered,

and you have no idea

who they are

and who you were

when you knew them.

23.01.2026

THE WONDERS OF ENGLISH LANGUAGE

Leaving their bower in their bowered bower

where they bowered, carrying a bower

the bower bower walked past a bower

and went deep into a bower

and there saw a bower beside a bower

that had been made by a bower -

not the kind of bower

they had seen in their youth on the main

when they had played a bower beside a bower -

no a bower made by a bower beside a bower

in a bower in the countryside where the bower's

bower lay bowered. The bower's bowers

stretched as they bowered

and the bower got scared and went away.

(Leaving their room in their enclosed cottage

where they lived, carrying a bowed instrument

the peasant farmed walked past a pavilion

and went deep into a shady grove

and there saw a hawk beside a mating display

structure made of twigs by a male bower bird -

not the kind of bower

they had seen in their youth on the ocean

when they had played a trump beside an anchor -

no a mating display structure made by a bower beside beside a hawk

in a shady grove i the countryside where the peasant's

hut lay enclosed. The farmer's muscles

stretched as they bend

and the hawk got scared and went away.)

21.01.2026

A BRIGHTER MORNING, BRIEFLY

A brighter morning

in the desolate midwinter,

breaks in the cloud-cover,

colours beyond black,

gray and white scattered

in the landscape

catching the eye,

the evergreens recovered

their green in dark hues,

a tint of pastel red

on the edges of clouds,

the snowfields

edging towards blue -

and then the clouds

close the gaps

and all is black, gray

and white, the evergreens

rising black from white

snow against gray

overcast sky.

20.01.2026

CHOOSE RAGE

All the rage and all the grief

won't bring back a single life,

but ignoring the stolen lives

will take more each bloody day.

20.01.2026

THE DREAM DISSIPATING

I awake

erect

and how I wish

I would have

you beside me

to gift it,

you distant one

left in the dream.

20.01.2026

THE PASSAGE OF EPHEMERAL THINGS ACROSS THE WORLD

Heavy snowfall,

harsh wind blowing,

your footprints

made the other way

already being covered

as you walk back 

from the mailbox,

the wind driving

the falling snow,

falling endlessly

from white clouds

upon the white landscape.

becoming it,

erasing the passage

of ephemeral things.

15.-20.01.2026

GAMES OF SPRING IN WINTERTIME

The fine snow covering

the forest floor

shows where the nymph ran

and the faun on his hooves

followed, and the sounds

coming from the glade

tell where the faun caught 

her fleeing form,

and rolling came to lie

in the cold snow

under her triumphant

flesh riding his.

18.11.2025-20.01.2026

UP AND UP

His hand 

running up 

her thigh,

up and up,

slowly,

slowly

with

all the time

in the world

for it

to reach

its goal

that

will be but

the beginning

18.11.-20.01.2026

A FIRE BURNING

A cold morning 

all in white,

enshrouded,

and her images

a fire burning.

18.11.2025-19.01.2026

THE EFFECT SHE HAS ON HIM

The effect she has on him: 

Each day he dreams of pulling those

knickers down, one day with his

trembling hands, on another

with his eager teeth. Each day

he dreams that, and hopes she would

let him see with more than

what imagination offers, fixing

the vision with a click. 

01.10.2024

INTO THE GROVES OF ARCADY

As a satyr I shall chase
your beguiling nymph
through the cold lands

of the winter into

the groves of Arcady

in their eternal summer,
and there, beside

a singing spring,

shall find you waiting
and cover your bosom
with the flowers of my kisses.

15.01.2026

AS YOU ARE IN YOUR CHRISTMAS CARD

Sit on my lap,

sit on my lap

as you are

in your Christmas card,

bring nothing

but your passion

to meet mine

as you sit

on my lap.

19.01.2026

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

Poem Poems Poetry Verse

MELTING SNOW

The snow melts 

in the winter night,

you can hear the dripping

of water from the eaves,

and your mind gives

them you bright,

those droplets of water,

when they fall black

in the black night.

18.-19.01.2026

TWICE THIS MORNING

Twice this morning

you have made

me hard

and given

me relief,

my muse.

I'm grateful

for the lust

and the exhausted bliss

you have granted me,

and you,

my muse,

be proud,

be proud

and sexy.

19.01.2026

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

Poem Poems Poetry Verse

WATCHING A VIDEO FROM GAZA STRIP

Is that the sound

of the winter storm

coming from the sea,

harsh, blowing against

tattered tents, teetering

skeletons of buildings

or is the sound

of the Israeli artillery

that is shelling Gaza? 

19.01.2026

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

Poem Poems Poetry Verse

THE BLACK FABRIC BETWEEN MY FINGERS

The fabric of your panties

between my fingers,

I watch your images,

one with your thighs

open, black fabric

obscuring what I desire,

and in the second,

you without the black fabric

hiding your beauty

from my gaze,

and I envision my hands

removing these panties

and revealing

your enticing beauty.

19.01.2026

A NEW AGE IN INTERNATIONAL LAW

Many among those who declared

that the response to Russia's invasion

of Ukraine heralded

"a new age in international law"

have spent last two years

supporting Israel & United States' attack

on international courts

and are now openly supporting

USA's attack on Venezuela

or coming up with excuses

why it shouldn't be opposed.

04.01.2026

ON THE 19TH DAY OF THE YEAR

The morning dawns

in grey and white,

landscape emerges

from the dark

possibilities of the night

into sombre midwinter desolation;

a revolution was betrayed

yesterday, but here

I am, driven to ecstasy

by her touch in the vast

sleep that left me

on this shore

of awakening, yearning

hard for her flesh,

for revolutions that stand

as hard as I for her

in my solitude

when the bleak morning

comes. 

19.01.2026

COME, MY MUSE

Come, step out of your photograph,

come as a vision turning into flesh,

warm flesh whose wonders

I can devour through the dark

hours of the night until bleak

morning comes. Until then,

until the pale morning

dissolves dreams, let's us play

the games that keep the cold away.

15.-18.01.2026 

ON THE 18TH DAY OF THE YEAR

Morning three hours away,

and I'm writing poems

but would rather be writing

my desire on your skin.

18.01.2026

GAZING AT HER CHRISTMAS CARD

My gaze goes

wandering,

caressing

your form,

if only,

if only,

it would be

my hands on your flesh

exploring,

exploring,

my mouth on your breasts

tasting their buds,

kissing my way

up your thighs,

up your thighs

to the object of my desire,

to the object of my desire,

your soft flesh,

your soft flesh

receiving my longing.

18.01.2026

HE SPEAKS TO HIS MUSE

I'm lost in a vision

of making love

to you,

your buttocks

raised on pillows

inviting

my wandering,

caressing hands,

inviting

me to sink

myself into you,

into a uniting

rhytm

carrying us

into bliss.

10.-17.01.2026

ALL OF ME

I imagine 

your hair in my hands

as your mouth

has all of me

that matters on this moment

and my own mouth

telling how good

a muse you are.

23.12.2025

ON THAT EMERALD CANVAS

Even when I envision

you in the Yeats country

my mind brings up

short encounters

between us, poetic

postcards of coupling,

us merging

on that emerald canvas.

23.12.2025

THE LOST ONES

What have I given to the world?

The echo of its own grief,

that I have given to the world.

What have I taken from the world?

Beautiful people that could have been saved,

that's what I have taken from the world.

What can the world take from me?

It's own grief echoing,

that's what the world can take.

Harken, I will give

you the world grieving them.

18.01.2026

THIS DAY, TOO

This day, too,

has passed,

like all of your days have passed.

Another for me comes,

but all of yours

in the frozen earth,

in memories that vanish

when our last day comes

and ends without us.

11.01.2026

NO MOMENT OF LIGHT

Black devouring white snow

defines the night, an overwhelming

starless black of unbeing,

and the day has pale gray clouds

above world in snow, landscape

in a state of suspended existence,

and no moment of light

when the world around would live

in bright moonlight casting shadows,

in sunlight turning fields of snow

blue and bringing back the hues of green

into forests that are now black woods.

15.01.2026

AS WINDS ARE SWEEPING THROUGH THE WINTER NIGHT

Something falls in the night

making a sound that reaches inside,

a frozen branch heavy with snow

broken by the wind,

that's what I imagine,

gazing at the black night,

a thing breaking in the dark,

a frozen thing breaking

under the weight of shared pain,

in the winds that shake the world.

15.01.2026

ON THE 14TH DAY OF THE YEAR

Vengeance if not justice

and the biblical eye for an eye

even if all of the eyes

in the world

would become blind.

14.01.2026

ON THE 15TH DAY OF THE YEAR

Days lost, two weeks

doing little else

than hour after hour

sharing a tiny,

tiny part of the world's grief

and the world's pain,

world's broken

bleeding limbs,

world's eyes blind

in death, and now,

on this snow-swept day,

I think I'm back

to more than that,

as much or little

as it might matter.

15.01.2026

THE ATTITUDE OF EUROPE UNTIL ITS DENMARK'S TURN

"As a European,

I put Ukraine before

Gaza or Sudan or whatever,

but I demand

that the entire world

supports Ukraine's

worthy cause, because

"Ukraine is in Europe!"

and when the United States

or Israel attack any country

whatsoever, they can count

on my support,

because I, European,

put Europe first!"

12.01.2026

ON THE 11TH DAY OF THE YEAR

The past calls,

old paths overgrown,

a century receding

that looked forward

to years numbered

like this one

in awe, but was

the better place,

the flawed paradise

lost and this some

global Purgatory

on the descent

into Hell.

                 The lost

past calls, and one

would rise unhesitant

and walk back

into those years,

to lose oneself

in paths under felled trees,

returning to people

then the pillars of being,

now under this

cold night's snow

dreamless, 

                  as suffering

people die under bombs

in this bleak planetary

dystopia, the wasteland

devouring all

our millions of years.

11.01.2026

WHICH NO ONE ELSE FEEL OR GIVE

Life, the great disappointment,

ebbs away. Yet, as its high tide

was of no note,

less so is its passing.

One doesn't mourn

such paltry things,

promises unfulfilled,

flotsam carried into the deep,

another tide

will rise on other shores

and go where the waters go

as the Moon commands,

one turns away from such things,

the realms one will not tread,

to her beguiling images,

to the siren call

that gets 

out of the mind and flesh

what they have still to give

and which no else

shall feel or give.

10.01.2026

MY MUSE, TRUST THE FLESH'S ASSURANCE

Trust the flesh's assurance,

that which you can witness

hardening, rising

for you, even if the words

can echo the verses

of the dead poets

who only rise as dust,

the flesh, the flesh

hardening, rising

for you, comes

echoing nothing

but its own desire,

its lust to be felt by you.

10.01.2026

I WOULD BURY THIS GNAWING COLD

Sunk in a cracking

winter night,

I'm thinking of you

as in your photograph,

sitting on the side of my bed

and how quickly,

oh how quickly

I would bury this gnawing

cold in your naked warmth,

seeking from between

your breats

and your thighs

solar furnace

desire's consummation.       

10.01.2026   

MIRAGE AND LESSER

What has been

in these decades of mirage

will not be undone;

no mere unravelling

of the fabric

to leave the thread intact -

it will be erased

so that it never was:

This existence,

the driven wave,

the calm depths,

the shoals where

they met, all going

to the void unliving,

never existing,

such are things,

foam on the crashing wave

from human beings

to their labours

and the grand universe

itself, sparkling still.

All these myrias forms

in the cosmic frame

giving way

to a traceless void.

10.01.2026

WORSE THAN HYPOCRITES

Those who support genocide

are now upset

that protesters are shot in Iran.

They speak of freedom

and liberty now

who mock the complete

extermination of 6200 families

with no survivors.

This they defend

and celebrate,

blaming the victims

for their own murder,

dreaming of an even

greater Holocaust.

But the killing of 50 people,

they declare, is too much,

and they put their hope

in genocidaires

and their benefactors.

10.01.2026

ON THE 10TH DAY OF THE YEAR

From the basement where rock

and cement are covered with frost,

but water still flows in the pipes,

I rise climbing the wooden steps

away from the Netherworld,

and coming in this room,

sit down before the computer,

leaf through the pages of the collection

of the dead boy gifted

by her, select from among them

another poem, and start to translate.

Wordsworth left free to wander,

life behind him. Do those

who are killed in their youth

on Tunisian hills

become mere boys again,

or is that left for those who grew old,

their brows covered with another

frost, unmelting when the seasons change?

Soon, this short poem done,

I shall take her other gifts

and warm myself as the darkness

fades and the red light of a late dawn

starts to sweep the blue snowfields.

10.01.2026