i think i am falling for you, although i have a feeling that what really attracts me ... continue reading
Tag: poem
old men are dreamers
when i mistook you for someone from my distant past, it was just an innocent mistake, a bit amusing actually. and even looking at the world through your eyes, i only ... continue reading
elegy written in a city cul-de-sac
no need, my boy, to shed a tear when, lost in the crowded urban thicket, you enter a blind alley. ... continue reading
her four of a kind
i met her by chance at the hellenic lectures. enchanted, i watched her taking notes with her swan fountain ... continue reading
nine-twelve
it is my sunday with the kids. we are going to the science centre. i think they will like it and maybe ... continue reading
nine-eleven
first, nineteen men killed two thousand nine hundred and seventy-seven people. then the “war on terror” began, which has ... continue reading
a history of what?
as i read the history of the greco-persian wars, portrayed as the great war between east and west, as a clash of two civilisations, i can not help but feel ... continue reading
the way i am
i am a straight, white, middle-class, able-bodied male. i am a highly paid, well-educated white-collar worker. i am a european union member states’ passport holder. ... continue reading
a supposition
if i could simply leave, turn off the light, and slam the door, drawing this galling lease to a close, ... continue reading
the effortless comfort of pity
if you only read texts that you agree with, then you will just reinforce your biases. so i read the tragic sense of life and feel sorry ... continue reading
anniversary
a year ago, i woke up early in the morning, ate a bowl of porridge for breakfast, brushed my teeth, changed clothes, and spent the next few hours exploring ... continue reading
undefined
the adage says, money does not make you happy, to which someone added, but it allows you to be comfortably unhappy. and in this sarcastic remark, ... continue reading
would i dare to ask?
what does it mean to be a free man? what does it take? would i dare to ask the lycians who set fire to the citadel ... continue reading
not all shines through
we dream of being stars, but the only thing we manage to achieve is being a piece of rock, and not even the big one that shines with reflected ... continue reading
the confession of a liar
listening to the silence of the wise man in the agora trying to convince me that i write to leave behind a shadow of my ... continue reading
the order of things
there is this commentator i love to read and always think about her as beautiful and smart, and then regret that she is a lesbian ... continue reading
every next last one
going out for a walk along the promenade in the evenings, sitting on a bench in the deep shade and exchanging indifferent glances with the shoelaces passing me by, ... continue reading
identity
i am the burning of a chafed ankle. i am the swelling from an infected tooth. i am the gurgling in a sore stomach. ... continue reading
my little worries
do i still have a chance for an indecent line of catullus whispered in my ear in a crowded lift? will i ever find a garter ... continue reading
i play it safe
sometimes i like an essay about a new book more than the book itself, and i find myself settling for the former more and more often. ... continue reading
summer with monika
it was a long night on a train to the seaside. we were boy scouts from the mining basin. they were girl scouts from the highlands. ... continue reading
everything i need
are all the books i have all the books i need? i have a diary of an emigrant ... continue reading
threnus
i can still hear incoming messages even though my phone is silent. and then i wake up sweaty at four ... continue reading
the right one for the question
since when has reading for pleasure become an obligation? do not ask the writer, ask the owner of a private ... continue reading
a simple seashell that i never had
she once said that all she dreamed about was being a mother and not necessarily a wife. it is funny because all i dreamed ... continue reading
one day will become now
one day, i may hold one’s hand without fear. for now, let me walk with my hands in my pockets ... continue reading
a wake up call
they do not need us any more, women. they just keep us around as we are handy sometimes. but though it is our own fault, ... continue reading
seeking a reason
are the tears in my eyes the result of yawning after a sleepless night, or of reading verses to distract myself from the missing pillow ... continue reading
the dilemma of the truth-seeker
if by writing i try to understand what has happened in my life, then each stanza touches a true story, ... continue reading
hardly an expert
if i were asked what love is, i would say, ask the blind for the colour of their eyes, or the deaf for the timbre of their voice, ... continue reading
is stagnant water bound to rot?
fun and games, writing, is it not? sometimes we hit, miss more often, and usually somewhere in between. ... continue reading
if you would rather have
do you remember the words i wrote for you, the lines that over time began to escape your attention, the metaphors ... continue reading
kintsukuroi
is the signature enough to negate half of my life and which half? the one ... continue reading
a year of separation
the year has passed. just a glance and my reflection in a roadside puddle dries up. ... continue reading
the wall with no moon gate
i once met wild geese from the garden of the floating cup. ... continue reading
stiffed
when i pass a couple on the street, sometimes i glance at them to spot that glimmer of male resentment ... continue reading
a libation out of the cup
we only have to walk about until our legs become heavy, and then we can lie down. ... continue reading
tsundoku
i look at my bookshelves with a sense of regret. there are books there that i have not yet matured to read, and books that have passed their time ... continue reading
the colour of saffron
i was six when i learned to read letters and i did not need to speak ever again. so i thought, if i knew ... continue reading
smile
old actors play old people. they know how to ask, is realism a thing?, ... continue reading
confession of a poet
if life is a fatal sexually transmitted disease then i am nothing ... continue reading
even if i dive into jordan
i was born with a broken heart. it gave me a rather dubious gift of visibility, the label of unfitness ... continue reading
a wise man a tergo
poetry written by life has the best punch lines. like this furious tirade ... continue reading
the age of extinction
i have seen people kill themselves without dying, some elderly, some simply old and all just tired. each ... continue reading
on what we lacked
regretting leaving my hermitage for collegium maius, i do not curse you but the drowsiness of the lecture ... continue reading
the last will of a humanist
the winter of my birth gave me my first breath of cold air and nature ... continue reading
a splinter of ice in my heart
born from one womb, i have as many mothers as memories. countless ... continue reading
point of view
i can understand the feelings of flat earthers. it is a matter of sense of justice. because ... continue reading
an echo of old sentiments
my first unforgettable experience as an emigrant was bewilderment at the sight of churches turned into ... continue reading
the roots
my mother once told me that she had some distant jewish ancestors, but that ... continue reading
the reasons for not being funny
when i think about the reasons for being funny at three in the morning, i know that i will regret it if only for the lack of sleep because it is the middle ... continue reading
the reasons for being funny
sometimes i whistle christmas carols in july. for two reasons. i like cheerful tunes and i am always amused to see ... continue reading
the crowing of the cock of gaul
when i read an old german jew, i shudder. he knew the power of words, and some of his own ... continue reading
on sunday, the fourth of july
i have heard my body replaces all cells every seven years, so i am a newborn man then. ... continue reading
a self-imposed abomination
if i had caught myself stranded in a cheerful disposition, i would have found this inconvenience ... continue reading
the proviso of halfness
sometimes i think of a man with an alarm clock in his pocket, hurrying to catch another day ... continue reading
a bit of a dandy
i wear plain t-shirts made of washed out stains of a faded past, a fabric that makes the guanaco look cheap like upland cotton. ... continue reading
and when i wrote my first stanza
an old notebook with clumsy attempts to impress a girl reminded me of her burst of laughter. and she was gone ... continue reading
before the night ends
i was trying to figure out what your name is and at the same time ... continue reading
is it time to leave the garden?
from yesterday’s wounds i am slowly bleeding out my disdain for today. ... continue reading
the art of maintaining appearances
i collect the deceased like the nihilist bazárov. i have killed one lately ... continue reading
my experience of being existentially challenged
i am not dead, just existentially challenged. admittedly still without ... continue reading
i would rather not say
i told a joke, an anecdote really, that only amused ... continue reading
the interpreter
there are words that cannot be translated and there are words that probably would not be wise ... continue reading
brother, demilitarize my soul
any time i bump into manhood still drunk with the siege of troy, i wonder what does it mean to be ... continue reading
a lesson on contractions
i am / i’m going to die. you are / you’re going to die. he is / he’s going to die. ... continue reading
a hereditary disease called life
i have never asked to be born, yet something holds me accountable and i have already been punished ... continue reading
on your birthday musings
someone took a picture just before you blew out the candles and it will stay that way, your gentle smile suspended ... continue reading
in search of a word
in the world of language, word definitions are very important. but what if you ... continue reading
the curse of the poet king
what would the world be like if you were in charge? i still remember that naive game ... continue reading
the damned silence of the poet
i may rarely speak, but i listen and if you ask about my silence, what can i say? maybe i just do ... continue reading
i do not write about fairies
i am not a misogynist, i was just married once, so stop asking me why ... continue reading
more or less settled calendar
there are seven days a week: monday, monday, monday, monday, monday, after-monday, before-monday. i took ... continue reading
sit tibi terra laeta
it takes a while to become facetious, as it is said that we are born innocent, and only with the passage of time ... continue reading
the one palindrome i miss
at first you found my vigorous tattarrattat at your door amusing. but in my search for palindromes, i had not noticed that ... continue reading
the supposed allure of secularism
he called me an escapist who hang on to a feel-good believe system. perhaps he is right. in the end, i do not struggle ... continue reading
*** [would you notice a quiet man reading]
would you notice a quiet man reading an engraved plaque on the backrest of each memorial bench he passes by? ... continue reading
a single man
i can hear nothing but rain in the dramatic movements of your lips. ... continue reading
doubts
years ago my father disowned me because i dared to change my faith. not that he was particularly religious. ... continue reading
a prank
i heard of the city warden who arranged all the files in the station computer based on dante’s nine circles of hell. ... continue reading
the tank man verse
remember, remember the june fourth and the embers who stood against bullets and tanks. ... continue reading
*** [the house i live in is made of granite]
the house i live in is made of granite. its thick stone walls block radio waves and strangers' stares. its windows face ... continue reading
classifieds: a personal ad
conditioned by the algorithm, i swipe right across the puzzling realms of online dating to see if my world remains binary. it is not ... continue reading
it all started with the alphabet book
i was reading the satanic verses in a hospital bed as the drip rinsed the remnants of an overdose ... continue reading
*** [sometimes i think of my foreign language]
sometimes i think of my foreign language teachers. i doubt they remember me. i certainly forgot the cyrillic alphabet, the latin declension, ... continue reading
force of habit
i sleep on my right side facing her as if she ... continue reading
a poet. anonymous
hi, my name is… bleak and i am a poet. anonymous as i would be if i were handing down a word ... continue reading
*** [untitled twenty]
innocent of thought cruelties the poet examined the truth conditions of the utterance ... continue reading
*** [untitled nineteen]
a direct question from a reader flustered the poet as he walked along the lines of monteverdi ... continue reading
*** [untitled eighteen]
as he pored over the ancient maps of the land of purple mr nothing remembered ... continue reading
*** [untitled seventeen]
the ability to appreciate a little gift from someone who barely knows the predicaments of holding the door ... continue reading
*** [untitled sixteen]
if the stench of burning from the eatery downstairs painstakingly depicted ... continue reading
*** [untitled fifteen]
the disproportionality of his features made mr nothing ... continue reading
*** [untitled fourteen]
occupying intentionally blank pages the poet drew all the bizarre encounters ... continue reading
*** [untitled thirteen]
unsure of his presence given or inferred from phantom pains ... continue reading
*** [untitled twelve]
although devoid of carnality mr nothing met a woman inviting strangers to dinner ... continue reading
*** [untitled eleven]
as they found themselves strangely at odds with a pilcrow mark in each stanza ... continue reading
*** [untitled ten]
mr nothing examined his body the poet made him aware of his constantly bleeding nose ... continue reading
*** [untitled nine]
through the paper walls of mr nothing’s place the poet could hear ... continue reading
*** [untitled eight]
mourning the death of ivan ilyich tore them asunder when the poet noticed yawning he stepped back from the mahogany lectern ... continue reading
