poetry

The sign - Tram #byblogfia

Loving to Love

Pling pling. While sitting on the tram to #BizetCarmen tonight I thought about you. I remember your last words and a poem popped up in my head. You said:

-See you next time!

While our eyes made connection to each other’s heart – this very second – I answered the same words. And you know! Next time is Friday. Soon we’ll meet again!

a step to
lips wet by a dream
the thrilling inside body longing
for our next dance
‘loving to love’

Carpe Diem: #1110
Winter Breath by Adrian von Ziegler.

The Tram #byblogfia

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” Jalaluddin Rumi

Eyelid #byblogfia

Breath of Winds

Another evening with Bach music and contemporary dance at MÜPA. Dream Keeper.  I was so lucky to meet some very interesting people. Both before the performance and in the paus. I almost felt high on my way home later. Don’t read ”almost”.

hidden scent
in the early dew wet grass
breath of winds
her eyelids tremble invite
comforted by thousand kisses

Carpe Diem: #1109
Siddharta’s Journey by Guy Sweens.

Green Grass

Båstad, Sweden 2016

Stormy Waves

He was a sailor. She was in love. A dreamer collecting shells on the esoteric beach.

some words
brought by fins vivid whirls
such mystery
served on the abandoned shore
by a promising shell

The wooden boardwalk became her life.

Some day
she will find that special shell.
When the sky is blue
and the wind is softening,
the dolphin thought.

Some day she stumbled on a broken board.

pale dunes
and grands of sand verify
a fallen veil
awakening for all senses
some break through

At last stormy waves brought the board out into the deep sea.
As they brought her love back.

Carpe Diem: #1108 Promise.

Budapest in my Heart

Bewitching Evening

Walking my lonely evening walk among all these people. Feeling the festive air of the city I’m so in love with. All these beauty – and I do not mean things – I mean the feelings it gives – to me. Three poems popped up in my head.

three bottles
a day kept Christmas away
creativity orgie

Ha ha … sometimes I’m so funny to be with! I smiled to everybody in the street and a Japanese lady first answered with a smile and then looked a bit confused.

the scent
of your strong chest – protecting
beating hearts

Ah … I would like you to be here. Walking along with me. Holding my hand. Enjoying life. Chat, discuss and giggle. And most of all – just being. Feeling the scent of each other in mutual respect for – what so ever. (This popped up just now).

you know
hawks are hunting – but only
in the sky

Now I find myself close to the boarder. The ‘besinged’ Danube. This beautiful place like in a fairytale. The Danube – so fresh and swirling. Had to sit down on a bench. Breath and sigh. Such a wonderful little spot in Universe. Just mine … for now …

clouds dancing
shadows on the castle facade
thrillingly me

How can you resist …

Carpe Diem: #1108 – Promise.

I don’t usually shoot this kind of selfies – everybody else do – bewitching evening probably 😉

How can you resist!?

Heading for Budapest

Budapest – Retreat in my Heart

Finding myself in the place.
Perfectly right space.
After testing so many ways.

At last peace in my mind.
This gem so happy to find.
No longer lost and blind.

Life gets a new fresh start.
I’m thankful to be so smart.
Budapest – retreat – in my heart.

Chain Bridge and Buda castle, Budapest The Chain Bridge over Danube – between Pest and Buda – and Buda Castle.

Daily Prompt: Retreat.

Blue Photo - Empty Seats and Tram 2

Bortom Poesin

Man skulle kunna önska att man kunde skriva poesi lika elegant som en fjällbäck tar sig fram i landskapet. Kanske kan man lära sig?
Varför kunde inta jag komma på att jag ”legat vaken hela natten och känt om hjärtat sitter kvar”? (Lars Winnebäck)
Jag ligger förstås inte vaken hela natten. Oftast sitter jag uppe och ”jobbar” halva. Resten och lite till sover jag gott.
Kanske ska man tänka ut ett tema först. LW hade ju soldat, vapen och krig som tema i sin ”Ingen soldat”.

hjärta och smärta
i en kropp som hyser hela livet
bortom poesin

Jag får fundera ut ett tema.

det övergivna
lämnas för återuppbyggnad
utan hjärta

Skrivpuff blev min räddning – igen.

det tomma
arket som nu ska fyllas med själ
och hjärta

Det puffordet ska jag ta med nästa promenad.

Skrivpuff: Övergivet.

Crazy Art by me - Climbing and footsteps

”Cross my Heart”

Inspirerad av … han och hon i ett liv … a real life … och musiken …

Han skulle gå ut i sena natten.
Hon ville följa med.
Han ville gå ensam.
Hon misstänkte inget.

Hon litade på honom.
Han smidde planer.
Hon tänkte bara gott.
Han hade ett möte.

Hon var inte misstänksam.
Hon tänkte bara gott.
Men inte längre.
”Cross my heart”

Skrivpuff: Misstänksam.