On the graveyard, at night

Over their graves they hover,

the lonely dead in phantom form

like mist while deep beneath

their cadavers in silence turn to dust.

The moonlight dances on these

ethereal mists as they call for

walkers of the night, longing

after human touch and voice.

If a mind open to the call of what

lies beyond should wander

among the tumbling gravestones

and see the ethereal spirits mourning

they should avoid the touch

the dead long for; the essence

of death and mortal life combined

is only death and to speak

to the dead is to join the

feast of the still twisting

corpse that heard the call

- as one of the misty dead.

16.10.2013

withered flowers

covered with

fallen leaves

autumn's blossoms

14.10.2013

At horizon, light

Pale light at dawn

doesn't give answers

to the questions

of the night.

It asks questions of its own,

of cold frost

briefly glimmering

in the Sun's rays

after bringing death

to the last flowers.

The dark roads of the night

are now gone,

the roads of the day awash with light

and the paths taken under stars

beyond reach

until darkness falls again.

14.03.2013

Nearly silent, nearly silent - Simon Schama on the BBC

“…in some sense if you don’t live in Israel – I don’t live in Israel – you’re morally obliged to be nearly silent, nearly silent.”

Simon Schama: The Story of the Jews, episode 5, broadcast Sunday 1st October 2013.

How blind are those that put

ethnic, religious or ideological allegiance

above justice and morality!

Simon Schama tells about

the past suffering of the Jews

and then demands "near silence"

about what Israel does

to Palestinians.

He should be an intelligent man,

but he isn't intelligent or wise enough

to understand that

when Jews were the ones who

were oppressed,

who suffered,

people like him stepped forward

demanding that their suffering

would be met with silence.

11.10.2013

Good family

It doesn't matter that daddy has a mistress

and beats mommy

when she tells him to get rid of his whore,

leaving mommy comforting herself with too many drinks

and both neglecting the kids.

What matters is that they have money,

that daddy is a doctor,

mommy is a teacher

and when others look at them

they see middle class personified.

And what else there can be

to a good family?

Money and rank are virtue,

wealth is a sign of character

and poverty makes you bad.

11.10.2013

In memory of Scott Carpenter(1925-2013)

Orbit has decayed,

the long flight is over.

No recovery,

now you sail

the cosmic ocean.

11.10.2013

Humans invent monsters

from hells or space

so that they would

not have to acknowledge

that to every other species known

they are the greatest monsters.

If on the darkest night

a human sees

a pair of glowing eyes

in the shadows,

those eyes belong

to a being who watches

in fear...

11.10.2013

Frost in the first light,

in the horizon

red clouds

like tattered flags

usher the day

forward.

11.10.2013

The rain returns,

night after night

washing the autumn landscape

like a mother would

a child who is always

playing in the mud.

08.10.2013

October morning,

mist on the fallow fields

and evergreen woods;

in utter silence

the landscape sleeps.

08.10.2013

Dawn. Autumn in scattered, brown leafs

on wet grass. In the silence

that has embraced the landscape.

Even the wind has died.

06.10.2013

footprints in the sand

high tide comes and

washes them away

time comes and

washes away the one

who made them

time comes and

the sea rises

and the sea falls

until under bloated sun

heat cracks cliffs

on a shore of a sea of sand

07.10.2013

FOR WANG WEI

1

Empty rivers and mountains,

searching for you friend among them

you vanished in the clouds.

2

On the river bank

a lone crane

watches a disappearing sail.

06.10.2013

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

One morning

only silence

finds us

and we are

one

with it.

06.10.2013

One morning

we greet

the world

with silence,

but in the minds

of our friends

we speak

still.

06.10.2013

boys airguns & birds

a poem of afghanistan

shooting birds with air guns

was the five boys' plan

like that of so many boys

who think nothing of the birds' suffering

some foreigner saw them

in the distance

with the guns

made a call

a metal bird came

with its deadly cargo

explosion bleeding bodies death

the usual claim of no civilian deaths

06.10.2013

beach

the sea at night

great waves crashing

unseen

only the sound

of water meeting rock

as in the beginning

06.10.2013

Fragility of Goodness

One act of evil

can erase a lifetime's worth

of good deeds

and no amount

of repentance,

no amount of good works

will ever erase it.

So fragile is everything good,

so permanent is evil.

06.10.2013

Summer morning, bright
dew glimmering in the first light;
memories, mourning.

30.08.-05.10.2013

Another night, black

as the coffee on the kitchen table

waiting for me to drink it,

bleak as the mind

that wants that dark fluid.

Black pearls these nights

that tie into each other

through the shivering autumn

descending into winter

as the mind follows them

with faltering steps.

24.09.-05.10.2013

Hidden under fallen leaves:

The last flowers of summer.

05.10.2013

Fading light, gray land

in the in late autumn,

soaked with rain,

melancholy as fallen leafs

mix with memories.

05.10.2013

Fallen leaves

fill the roadside;

yellow, gray,

few bright red ones

glimmering.

05.10.2013

Yellow, wet leaves on the green grass

in the gray light of the October morning;

Departed summer's long goodbyes.

05.10.2013

Dust

My dust shall not dream of me;

before it was the dust of others

yet now it dreams no dreams of them

and so it shall be with me.

The dust dreams only of the life

it now gives form to,

the lives gone

are dust to dust also.

05.10.2013

the night, again, black nothingness

beyond the windows

dawn a dream lost

somewhere in the labyrinth of thoughts

perhaps this time

Apophis did get Re

morning won't paint the sky

with its pale colours

and the night and the void will be one

05.10.2013

Life is an anomaly,

non-existence is normality.

The act of breathing -

inhaling, exhaling -

every heartbeat

a rebellion, a defiance

before the void.

Our inevitable defeat

should not make us

question the fight,

for continuing to fight

is a victory in itself,

for life against oblivion.

29.09.2013

A graveyard comedy

A lonely ghoul gnawed a bone

in a corner of the small mausoleum,

among rotting coffins it sat

among bodies it once knew

when they all walked in the light

and talked the talk of men

and the sun. But now it

was darkness and the moon

and the coldness of the night

and the tomb. It sat and gnawed,

it knew not who it had been,

it just knew it had lost,

but whether it was a name,

a life or a bone with tasty marrow

it knew not and it cried in the night.

29.09.2013

I'm Going Slightly Mad

Are they trying to tell you something

You're missing that one final screw

Queen

There are nights when you think you are going mad

and then there are nights when you realize that you have gone mad

and outside, in the darkness there is nothing;

all the horrors are inside your head,

in your mind and you think of taking them out

with a knife or beating them into silence with a hammer,

as they crawl there like maggots, white mass

that fills your skull and the knife and the hammer

are so soothing in your hand - the calm calling

of the dawn, light, silence,

and the cool coldness of sleep...

29.09.2013

A Fragment

On his cross sat Jesus, eating a heart still quivering

when He took the first bite. Holy was he, covered in

blood dried and anew, the Risen Lord, the Father

of Vampires with his First Raised Lazarus gibbering

below, looking at the eyes that once owned the

heart and they looked back, the brightest eyes, the

eyes of an angel, feast of the Messiah.

Outside, in the darkness that was the world,

the Apostles hunted.

29.09.2013

Yellow, orange, red

Cold rain,

autumn's nectar

falling on

faded leaves.

21.09.2013

Without withering months

and the long, cold winter

there could be no spring

of new green grass,

first flowers and chirping

of chicks in nests,

no hot summer days

and white nights,

without the fading of life

there could be no birth.

21.09.2013

What was between

The night opened your eyes

with its swift, dark brush strokes
and you awakened in darkness;

the morning closed them with its soft, pale light

that moved hesitantly over the land

as you entered another night

where the hours of the night gone

came back twisted telling

of your fears deeply buried

from the light of mind and day.

20.09.2013

Yellow leafs floating in puddles

reflecting gray clouds, dark trees

- the shivering season before

white sleep under cold stars.

19.09.2013

Have we not been here before?
This exact moment, this silence between us,
these frozen looks on our faces,
the rain hitting the window,
the clock ticking away.
We remember this now,
but do we remember how we
got away from this?

The light outside fades.
Hesitantly I extend my hand
over the table
and see your hand reaching for mine.

19.09.2013

Love

We shared something

but in the end

neither of us knew what.

So we went

on our separate ways,

both still wondering

what had brought us

together, tied us

into each other

before being lost.

It must have been

something special.

11.09.2013

This disappearing world,

this life which in myriad paths converges

towards disappointment and the void,

this moment of reflection

in the fabric of time, sinking

to the past and beyond memory,

to words trembling

in black and white

in fear of their own oblivion.

All illusion, all real,

all dance of atoms,

the soundless music of the strings.

11.09.2013

Oh, the past, the past,

the wound that doesn't stop bleeding,

the cry that doesn't stop echoing,

the pain that doesn't stop hurting but

eats its way through the years

turning into decades

as you tumble towards death.

05.09.2013

To destroy printed books

you have to work with fire,

sending libraries up in smoke,

but to destroy an ebook

you just need to press Delete.

To destroy heritage of humanity

you just need a few clicks

with a mouse.

02.09.2013

When you go, you go

and there's no coming back

except in dreams at night

in the minds of your beloved ones:

Reaching, reaching to them,

fading, fading as you drift

farther in to the past.

30.08.2013

POWER OF POETRY

A poem has no power

which the person who wrote it

and the person who read it

didn't already possess.

It can only awaken

what was already there,

waiting to be given form,

waiting to be given direction,

waiting to reach through time

from mind to mind.

Thus the act of reading

is as powerful

as the act of writing.

30.08.2013

IN MEMORY OF SEAMUS HEANEY(1939-2013)

Death came in

to rule where

poetry had been forged,

words flowed black

no more, all

was silence,

all was nothing,

nothing.

I would write

"Sleep well", but

death is no sleep,

death is absence,

a hole in the fabric

of lives changed,

a black hole

devouring existence.

You have gone,

you are no more.

No words can reach you,

no tears can reach you,

all we have are words,

your recorded voice

as you have now fulfilled

your human destiny.

30.08.2013

Missionary,

I killed my god

like a beloved pet

I ended it's life

and like I a beloved pet

it looked at me,

missionary,

as I destroyed the shrine,

burned the timbers

and dropped the

holy stone

in the dark waters

like a beloved pet

it looked at me

like asking what

it had done wrong

to deserve this?

Missionary,

will your god forgive me

what I did to my god,

the god of my ancestors,

the god of my people

in the name of your god?

26.08.2013

in the end no one cares

because there's no one to care

and thus nothing

has a meaning

did it even happen,

humanity, life, the universe

of blazing galaxies?

so thoroughly it will be gone

all the lives

the millions of years of

human suffering and delight

billions of years of evolution

all gone

into the void

like stars, planets, galaxies

and black holes

only radiation in a void

forever inching towards

0 Kelvin

26.08.2013

Jesus came to kill me

he had eyes that cried

for all the blood

in his hands

for the scalps

he carried on his belt

for the cap made of skull

he had on his head

for the cape of skin

made of flesh of men

Jesus came to kill me

he had had enough

Jesus came to kill me

to nail me on a cross

25.08.2013

what we see, hear and smell

what we touch

is always already in the past

the past

when our minds

recognize and react

always a bit too late

to capture the fleeting moment,

the Planck time

of the present

25.08.2013

Friedrich Hölderlin(1770-1843)

Walks on the Alps,

beer in a mountain village

where even the cattle

looked happy to him,

verses about heroic death

suffered during fight for freedom,

dreams of Greece distant

in time and place;

preparation for the

long years of quiet madness

in the tower

after his genius had died

long before his body did.

25.08.2013

death took away all the words that should have been spoken

it was a wall between us and i didn't even try to break it

i could have shattered it i could have shattered it

i allowed it to took away those last months

all the things that could have made a difference

that could still make a difference

until death is no longer between us

but unites us

23.08.2013

In time of shadows

I lived in light,

letting it burn inside;

in time of light

I dwelt in the shadows,

unseen, untouched

by its burning rays,

cold like a winter's night.

18.06.2013

I fell
and just couldn't get up

- you know how it is,

with life -

and now

the stars are coming out,

it's getting chilly

and the grass

under me

is cold,

as cold

as the light of those

stars, calling.

17.08.2013

the autumn comes

with every falling leaf

raindrop

with every evening

darker than the one

before

with every thought

of loss with every

shedded tear

when one more year

closing takes me

farther away from you

16.08.2013

observation

big cities

big sorrows

for little people

confined

in their anthills

one beside another

yearning yearning

neonlights reflected

in oily water

the lyricism of the city

doesn't quench

the pain of the confined

03.08.2013

mountains shrouded in mist

pines firs black in the valleys

beyond the touch of

the sun rising

rays of light marking the climber

a bit of enlightenment

30.07.2013

Truth is

the sharpest sword

you can wield.

22.07.2013

Mewet

You are the grass under my feet,

the flowers growing beside the road,

the leaves on the branches,

the whispering wind,

the songs of birds,

the descending Sun

and the rising Moon.

You are in every breath I take,

you are the air in my lungs,

you are the tears on my cheek,

the smile on my lips,

you are in my voice

still asking you to come back

from behind the shroud of years.

Kesäkuu - heinäkuun 21. päivä 2013

there is no morality in history
as it happens

the bad are no more damned than the good

as long as they live, free

except perhaps in their own minds

and a mind is a bastion no outsider

can ever fully take control of,

looting its riches and revealing its secrets

we can only hope that

vestiges of conscience

gave them nightmares

as the judgment of latter days

does not reach them

anymore than the compassion

of those that came afterwards

reached their victims

21.07.2013

few bits of blood given for test tubes

twelve hours without drinking or eating

parched throat

it's all so casual

i don't care

must be the medication working

its miracles

or the sunlight

that flows over everything

giving a golden unearthly hue

something out of a painting

describing a dream

my mind too

bathed in light

rays of sun

finding their way in

to my thoughts

flipping switches

16.07.2013

a morning of light
a breath of life

inhaling exhaling

so many mornings

like this to come

when i don't see

when i don't breath

when i am the light

the wind

and the breath

the grass

and the trees

15.07.2013

a white butterfly

on a july morning

among green and gold

fluttering

15.07.2013

apartheid is not racism
is the new israeli slogan,

claims a cartoon

and i agree

so many people,

so many states

so many religions

think that bad things

can't be bad

if the "right" people

are doing them

14.07.2013

for trayvon martin

in the light of truth
a killer is a killer

no jury can release

him from the truth

law and courts

can be bend

but truth is what it is

and killer is a killer

14.07.2013