Winter Time


Winter Time
 
Inspired by the Snowy Queen that keep my company
During the night.
When all the treasure of our lusty days
Lies still in the prison of my mind
That captured the light, the night, and the day
Now buried under the frosty ground
Just waiting for The King of Winter to arrive.
 
 
I am no Queen myself, only a figure as a stony cliff
A mountain of the strongest nature
A hard and secure building in noble granite
I safely wear the head I was born with
Fetched with chains to the ground, but easily canter
Never missing my steps, my foreseen and labourers Hight.
 
And here, from now I must work,
From inside of the high mountain
Crossing the stones in the flames of the igneous rock
And from the deep of the planet’s mantel of crust.
Slowly rising my head towards the morning sun
I am falling apart but growing on the ground
As an image of the three goddesses, of Music
Poetry and Song.
 
Febraury 2021 kc
 
 

I Know A Wind

 
 
  
 I Know A Wind
  
 I know the wind of wisdom and how to give you wit
 And in return the crown of a King your heart will fit
 The lovely gaze of your eyes, filling joy and happiness
 And music for your ears that will last 
 for more than hundred years.
  
 I know another wind with lustrous colour of gold
 That the hideous winter in time will be gone
 The time we know as a never resting friend
 I paint on my window until the ice and snow 
 Forever end.
  
 I know a third wind of shimmering stars
 Embroidering my life with great excitement 
 The sunbeams to dress my sad heart
 Making my breath blowing faith and hope
 For all the power that dried my tears
 And A new day to start.
  
 Copyright January 2021
 kc.
  
  
  
   

A Miracle









A Miracle.
 
I can´t find the right words
Those words that swirling around in my mind
Leaving a picture of what I´ve seen
And what I today have learned as a fact
Fast Running in my blood and my veins.
Without any tendency to stop.
 
Here I stand, on the shore to eternity
Waiting, these last few days of the year
Soon gone with the wind and buried
In the mortal clouds,
falling like the flowers I planted for you.
 
Looking around myself, seeing nothing
Listening, but all is still and silent
Not a sound from the passing birds
No growing of the sprouting seeds
I left last summer among the weeds.
 
And I was told to believe in miracles.
I have no God creating miracles or wonders
No, my lonely path creates its own miracles
Of wonders in life and about life
When I wander among the wet pebbles
and from the ancestor’s footsteps in the sand.
 
And how would It be possible to believe
When we get punished at least every 100-years
Of a deadly weapon, war, epidemics or sickness  
the Black Death, laming, cutting off our intelligence
Erasing a whole mankind from the earth.

Just in time to take the darkness in your arms.
 
That is a Miracle.
 
.

If No Tomorrow comes





If No Tomorrow Comes.
 
Time, of the unguarded moment
In where I live, still unspoken.
No yesterday from now is gone
and doubtful is tomorrow.
Within the present and in this very happening
stay all my senses quiet, close and numb.
 
It’s Now, that Love is without reality
uncontrolled she is leading all my thoughts.
True is my Love today, and would forever be
if no tomorrow comes.
Expressing my constant and refined wishes,
in new and various words, of what in my
invention live.
 
It’s Now my burning sight is here
my heart is beating harder than ever before.
It’s Now I am leaving somebody, and
my mind is rescuing all immortal dreams.
Stopping the waves in the Sea from moving forward
laying still in the washed sand and white pebbles.
 
It’s Now that Love rejoint our destiny
reinstates thy bosom in my heart.
It’s Now she gives our silence a rich delighted tune
a tender feeling, with fragility, never disgraced
sealed with ornaments in vine
and wreathes in laurel romantically held.
 
It’s Now, I can perceive your trembling sighs
I can capture the glistening in your eyes.
To drink the poison that is prepared for me.
To kiss the palm of your soft hand.
And Now, in this unguarded but so inviting time
To just hold you close, while you for certain are mine.
 
 

And If No Tomorrow Comes.
 
©k.c.
 
Music “You are My Destiny” Ernesto Cortazar

You are my Poetry





You Are My Poetry!
 
Look at you, how you wear your long and silky hair
falling on your shoulder like a light collar in lace
Look at your contracted mind, hidden,
but to me a sheet in the book of your heart.
 
Look at you, with your forehead in deep wrinkles
that speak of the flames buried in your eyes
Look at you, so proud in your manner
when leaving me in thy young and lusty days.
 
Look at you, how fair your own esteem of perfection seems
and how you urge to satisfy the running time
Look at you, in your gentleness that dress your humble body
that hold you fast in your tightened palms.
 
Look at you, and your perfumed greed that trouble our senses
and in a courteous attentiveness creating treasure
On several strings.
Look at you, that also give me strength for tears and to cry,
and teaching me how easy it is to smile.
 
Look at you, and your distinguished, but sweet self
that always wishes the spring and summer to be mine
Look at you, being the tower of my golden height
the guardian when I slowly fall
And offering me all the needed signs.
 
 December 2020.kc,
 
 
 

Questions.



Questions from the heart
 
Sitting by the fire, totally consumed
Of myself and my lonely life.
Asking, who could be waiting for me
Wondering, why my eyes are getting wet
And neglecting the stillness of my mind.
 
 
Between the dancing flames and sparkled shades
An ornament of the poet´s tender intention
Rises like a roaring thunder, in wind and rain,
The knowledge of sinking days and growing nights
Enthralling the light in my heart.
 
 
My dear Muse, excuse my so alarming thoughts
Perhaps you take some pleasure in my pains
And tell me in my turn of needs
To whom I waste my careful being,
My precious silence and dignified longing.
 
 
The eternal light of stars on the dark sky
That changed my nights into days
And left me time to weigh my love
The seasons of happiness and sorrows
Until utterance of blushing compassion
And fruitful showers, on my bouncing chest
are praised.
 
Copyright kc 2020.