Another Poem for the Weekend

Poem no 12 In the Verse Cycle TO YOU.
 I Paint YOU
I paint you every morning,
as the silhouette of the flickering light
in colours of swiftly motion
in every shade, tone and tinge
trying to catch your complexion
Your soft skin.
I paint you as a blue Forget Me Not,
to know that you always will be close
a small Daisy in the morning dew,
that wet your eyes in the sunny heat
and many Columbines or Granny's Bonnet,
that birds will sing in every tree.
I colour your hair in blond and brown
every tuft so thin and discrete
every strand so neat and subtle,
that I could spread it with my fingertips
moving a fine tread from your forehead,
knowing the feeling when we meet.
I paint you every morning,
Your glittering eyes, your rosy cheek
that blush under my pencil,
Your whispering lips that stopped in a kiss
when the rain started falling
erasing the most of what I did.
And when Tomorrow comes, I will paint you,
In every morning of the flickering light.
Copyright 2018 k.c.

The Wind

The Wind
You dangerous, You tender, You soft and violent
You wind of Nature´s hand
You are my music, the Anthem of my soul
And the bearer of my silence.
You carry my dreams, my quenched thirst
Over endless seas and lands
You catch my kisses vainly dispersed
And place them in my lover´s hand
My morning´s light you will hastily spread
My darkness you meet in the sky
You scatter the sun over a foreign bay
And drown the night in a whispering sigh.
My lonely calls you take on your wings
You make a clear lake of my eyes
The sound of my cries you make to sing
And my tears in the fountain will die.
 Knowing, that you stop in a tender caress
With a languishing touch over my mouth
Sweeping me in a thin laced dress
 and taking me
from North to South.
From the Poetry Collection 
The Path I tread 
All rights reserved


I live


To those who search for wisdom and peace
To find the way of your own being
There are not many paths to choose among
In the short time of beauties desire
Or while the young flames are burning.
Much effort has been laid on thrifty weed
That only deepened your dark eyes
Made wrinkles about your forehead
Your mouth to a bad grimace
A total distortion of your soft face.
Now bloom my dear, in this golden time
Where all your passion is moulded into love
Cause if you never have loved like this
You have never known or urged yourself
Into That passion, which is all you need
To say; I live.
Copyright 2020 kc.

In Beauty Walking

In Beauty Walking
Why should I not in beauty walk
Those lovely stirring moments, where every tear is dwelling
In where your pride your instinct live,
The holy sacrament of lust and fair
 and you, so easily beguiling us
with your adorable looks.
And I, now slowly walking
Close, in the mirror of your tears
I follow your bowed but delicate forehead
For attending some release of the day
Lying down like a fragile daisy
 in the morning grass.
Do you think the flickering light from my window
Will sooth my fleshly ingenuity,
And hold my bouncing blood in a nursing pace
Force my ears to a prudent deafness
And mute my silent breath
In darkness a secret, in daylight a heavy burden.
If so, I would stop my effort to find the real essence,
The bottom of the eruption from my heart
That lingers like a verdict from a death struggle,
Still my hunger from Nature’s impossible crave
The fervent heat that suffocate my crying
My passion, my unyielding sense of love
in perfection.
Copyright kc. March 2020

I Breathe


Here I breathe and drink the air of poetry
Drowned in unquenched flames, and trembling stars
Falling in my lap, a deep sense of sweet unrest,
A beam of the human shore,
The essence of enrapture,
The fortunes of music and dance,
That blossom and bare my desire,
the language, the odour of my heart.
Copyright kc 2017

My Nights are Whispering Voices

My Nights are whispering voices of unspoken words
My mind sleeping , so still in silent thoughts
My heart, a dull bearer of evil and defence and in a hurry,
in a rushing speed of desire
that grow and grow in every pace.

Ambitions and eager forcing my steps
That also make the time to slowly dwell
to where I trace without excuse and regrets
In perfect love, and in love being made
and raised by youth that last to the end.

And here I host for what shall be your delight
for what I can add to your trembling lips and your shyness,
that bow in front of me a barrier, hungering for attention
that I lay light upon, to faithfully shine.

Compressed are my lips of the Nights Dead,
the unspoken words from whispering voices
My mind illuminating thoughts out of dreams
My heart bouncing and rushing, seeking in desire,
a leap in the dark and for what come to pass
from a barrier of shyness, hungering for attention
Now faithfully shining in the Night.

June 2017 ©k.c. Photo: Google Search Music: Triumph Composed by Nikos Ignatiadis Poem: Recited by the Author Videoproduction: FreyaMusic


Happiness, a part of nature´s nuisance

Feeding herself with mighty memories

Gliding easily on the white foam,

And diving quickly into our dark sunken eyes.

She grabs your thoughts,

She chills the fire in your blood

And warm your stiffened veins, when cold,

At every small spark, at every ray of hope.

She never rests, and as her privilege

She works you into a march of actions

And make you clear the hollow sound

The voice of complex and clearness.

She rates your feeble excuse,

She treasures your intellect of delicacy,

She makes life and dead to fit in

To her great assurance of providential praise.

Copyright January 2020 kc.

Stay Another Moment

Stay Another Moment
Stay, please stay another moment
give me your pounding strength that knocked me down
within the frame of your possession.

Stay, and honour me with your voice
that is digging deeper than death
in where the high port of pillars could hold me for ever as a servant.

Stay, with your eyes closed climbing the steps,
that survey the pale modesty
appealing the glance of compassion
that suddenly has fallen asleep.

Stay, let your flying breath fondle my rosy cheek
as the master of sublimity you are
endeavour to please the last resistance
with your ingenious manner.

Stay, and with thy sweet sensitive fingers touch my lips
with gently sensuality that brush against the closest presence
of a humble but superior kiss.

Stay Another Moment.
August 2017 ©k.c. Photo: Wallpaper, Google search Music: Hard Times composer Ewanthia Reboutsika Poem: Stay Another Moment, recited by the Author Videoproduction: FreyaMusic

As a Whirlwind

As A Whirlwind.
As a whirlwind in a constant chaos my thoughts will aspire to thee
breaking the chains around my feet to run for my sincere freedom
in the most beautiful of landscapes where also you and your heart
are engraved in every simple stone on the ground.

I know your fidelity your tenderness from the passage of the birds ,
migrating and returning home again and thus
also you will be seen on the green meadows,
where to smile, to forget the tears and sorrows
and to heat my heart.

I know you will find the roots of anguish
your face still turning into a tender radiance
and shadows bringing happiness to your eyes that weep afresh,
by the tempting Beauty leading you with her secret speech Home,
that place, founded in love and where all tortured sorrows end.

I know the remains of my ancestor’s house burned into ashes,
so long ago unhappiness, the talking eyes, the sound of defeat,
lived in that walls and I would be nobody, but a Whirlwind
if not my deep belief in You brought me Home on the same wings as the birds ´.

April 2017 ©k.c. Photo: Oil painting Sunny Silence by Vladimir Volegov Music: From Relaxing Guitar Music Youtube channel Yellow Brick Cinema Poem: As a Whirlwind recited by the Author Video production: FreyaMusic