Exi(s)t

Do you say goodbye

To someone you hardly know?

Exit should come with love...

At love...

Where you love...

You say goodbye

To and from

The dear old place...

Poetry is there for timing your exit!

Afloat

A face familiar

Circles into boxes

Dear for so long

Boxes into boxes

Clouds gathering

A face altered

Backed by clouds

Boxes into circles

Dear dead long

Circles around circles

Unreadable lines

On the face now

Never to be read now

Never is memory

Past gathering

Now

Nothing

Nowthing

A face fading far away

Little trace of water in the bones...

Love is...

Love is where voice and sleep meet

A solitary telephone

Falling asleep

Or

Falling from sleep

Love that knows

The difference

Between hands that tremble

And hands that bid good bye

Or may be

Who knows

Love is that very difference.

Oh the maker of my dear dark!

The everlasting stiffness of your smoking finger!

The sequestered curve of love

Let me be there

At the meeting place

Where voice murmurs to sleep

What it cannot say to itself...

"Flatness Endless"

The green field of my childhood hospital
Where a silent road-roller stood rusty for years
I always wanted to ride it
Till one fine morning it was gone
Gone for ever
Away into the unrolled digits of time

I always had my way with rollers
Or rollers had their way with me

Now that there is perfect flatness around me
I go back to my disappeared road-roller
In the curves of my childhood

Another green field emerges from the curves
A field with a lot of talking, a lot of sitting, standing and lying
A field that holds me, held me, beheld me
Now falls silent in absence
There are no rollers anymore
Nor is there a single curve left

But the field wants to embrace me
Whenever I see it
I walk away in anxiety
One of these days I will go back to it
Knowing full well
There is no going back to it

I will hold the grass in my fingers one last time
Twirl the stems and let them go
Once and for all

They will be my witnesses
Witnesses rolled out of absence...

Father

All life contained in a fluid

When all else is deep inside a sleep

Life that slips away through the fingers

Life that gets sticky on the fingers

When all else sleeps inside a deep deeper deepening

Life that contains the fluid

Slips out of the fluid

When all else is no else no all

Only the fluid

Life only

Till his father, his only father knocks...

Timber

They are there for leaving
There is a there for leaving
The ones who do not leave
Are the ones who are not there
The ones who are not there
Are not there for leaving

Eyes which sit like windows on time...