There are times when I can see myself through
your eyes. My pale face so in love,
aching for the caress of a flaxen
haired boy racing through rolling fields.
Suddenly serious your adventurous eyes
sent yearning shivers through me.
I longed for your touch anytime and
kissed you opened mouth without
I adored your mock anger when you
chased after me and the awkward way
you looked down at your hands.
Soon Autumn threw its shadow on
sprouting wheat, smooth and wet.
Now, I listen to the soft whisper
of his breathing through a half
closed door and know there are
different kinds of love,
wild, ruthless, and unafraid.
art by Rob Hefferan
I wrote this just for you
I want it to be perfect.
Its verses clear as a summer sky
carnation clouds ascending.
May I lean back in your rose colored
swing until it is time to go?
I don’t want to own,
I just want to be here.
Translation By Bernd @ Neues Vom Hutschi
Ich schrieb dieses Gedicht
nur für dich.
Ich möchte, dass es perfekt sei,
mit Versen, hell wie ein
aus einem Garten, den ich erschaffen habe.
Lehn dich zurück in meine Rosenblüte,
eine farbige Schaukel und
geb dich Tagträumen hin,
bis es Zeit ist zu gehen.
Ich möchte, dass du regierst …
Ich will nicht besitzen,
nur dabei sein.
On sleepless nights
I stroll the left bank in black sequined heels
Eye lids heavy with smoky glitter.
Among the art I have found you
your essence travels through
my veins to settle in the pool of my heart.
soft lights flicker their last warning in our dark cafe where
like willows we sway to long forgotten love songs
then you are gone a Modigliani reclining never hearing
Je t’aime, the only French I know.
Mark Spain Art
pink sand pulls away
from a glistening shore,
melting fondant in the
Minute ecosystems inhabit
grottoes in their tide pools
of wet sand.
Some days I stroll the coast alone,
indulging realms of lovers
where there is no logic but
a crushing ache I hold to my breast,
a carapace between a heart and the
mountains where I left you.
Allow me to come undone
beneath the weight of tender
hands on eggshell, my sigh a gentle quake On
Let me drown in the river of
your impossible eyes where there
is no threat of war…hard silence
or the burden of forgiveness.