Sirens sailors sink

Sirens sailors sink

21-22 September 2017



Mossy waves

Floating petals shades


Wonder’s point

The colours observed disjoint

Hues of red and blue


Colour rule

Teachings of old school

Pupil mild

Like a child

Outer quiet inner wild

Rocking the boat two


Ship at sea

The mind keeping low at bay


Waves that bring

Ship wreck to my toe nail pink

Sirens sailors sink


Reading of the poem: 

Sirens snow tarakini deviantart com 3

Sirens’ song

The bitter taste of Orange

The bitter taste of Orange

21 February 2017



They lived in a small house by the sea and when the weather was not harsh he would go out with their small boat to get some fish for their meal., else they would have to rely on the barley porridge that Estelle made. The barley was bought thanks to the latest catch Bart had made and that he had sold at the village earning him some sacks of barley. Estelle, his wife, always thought that the barley was better because wheat tented to get musty in their small house by the seashore.


When Bart was not fishing either because the weather was bad or because the catch would not be good, Estelle stayed at home knitting. All of Bart’s sweaters had been made by her and she had even started making him full jumpers.


In the twenty years that they had been married they had never quarreled once. It was not that they got on well about everything but simply that Estelle had quietly said “Well of course dear Bart you are right. I am so sorry that I did not understand it right the first time over”. In the early years of their marriage Bart had thought her to be giving in out of love for him and then slowly started suspecting that he may be simply superior to her mentally. While this thought tickled his ego and made him sometimes want to stray away and find a girl who would be more his intellectual equal, the long time passed with Estelle made it impossible for him to even draft such a plan.


Estelle made an excellent marmalade of the oranges that grew in the orchard around the house. It was really strange to see oranges growing so close to the sea but Estelle had her way with nature and from the fist orange tree that she had succeeded in planting during their first wedding year, there were now more than 40 orange trees growing around the little house.


The best days were when Bart could get the fish and Estelle could make one of her special “Coulis” with the same oranges except that the taste was not at all like the marmalade she made but rather like some delicious soup-like sauce she used as dressing with some herbs to go together with the fish.


In all the years they had lived together, Estelle had expressed only one desire and that was to float in the sea as she did not know how to swim and he was not sure whether he could help her swim at the coast as that is where the waves were the roughest. He kept thinking to himself that he could surely do it one day when he did not have to attend to the catch as she would have taken up the space useful for the catch and made them lose money if he had given in to her desire.


One day, coming back from his usual fishing trip he found Estelle her face resting on one palm and her other on the table. In front of her there were oranges that she had seemed to be cutting when she had died all of a sudden. He carried her in his arms overcome with grief and lay her on the bed. He was thirsty from the day’s toil so thought he should drink something before dealing with the situation. He seized some of the oranges and swallowed them but their taste was extremely bitter and had nothing to do with either the coulis nor the marmalade that Estelle had made for them.


Bart went back to Estelle and wondered what to do. He knew he could not just bury her like anyone else. He cried with anguish at the thought that he had never fulfilled her desire of floating in the sea. His mind then made, he called for the local priest to bless Estelle. When that was done, he rowed to the farthest point of their coast where the sea met the delta and put her body in the water. He thought that she looked too beautiful to die. He wept in grief at the way the orange strands of her hair spread out in the water.


They say he must have got lost in the tempest that ensued because he never came back after her sea burial. Some say, he chose to go with her because living without her was meaningless for him.

The oranges in the orchard still grow and the women from the village come and pick them freely and somehow, they always have a unique taste for each marmalade made. The oranges which are strangely extremely bitter when eaten naturally make a heavenly marmalade when the right quantity of sugar is added. The orchard lives on….


Reading of the story: 


Pink Orange by Instinct Primitif/ Intidhar Kammarti




Contrived contraption

Contrived contraption

27 December 2016

Courtesy orki on



Diverging units

Time through space

Lovers knits

Illusions appearances

Unbends distances



Of my nerve’s systems

Bleak anthems

Face disgrace

The ship sinks with all it boards

Waters welcome hoards



The mind that invents


The intents

Recreating reaction

Contrived contraption


Reading of the poem: 


Passage into Midnight – Omar Akram

Inside there is a soft glow

Inside there is a soft glow

15 December 2016



The ship sails

The fallen sea wails

Burnt willows

My pillows

Embers flushing on my cheek

Glistening tears of meek



The Enchanted Times

Through my rhymes

Stand erect

Shaking off dust of neglect

Under the new moon


Silver trails

Hovering within

Of stardust

Of falling light

Of remnants of the lost might

Earthen reckonings


Wing that sings

Over the rooftops

Night kissed flight

Day dream bright

The feathers a path of clues

Withered chains to lose


Twirl me slow

Through the waking tides

Peace blossoms

Horseman rides

Multiply where he divides

Our bosoms anchors


Feet strike three

The Dawn strikes at six

We sing low

Humming birds

Inside there is a soft glow

Expanding in bricks


Reading of the poem: 


Pequeña – La Milonga del Treno

Desde el Alma – La Milonga del Treno

Tu pálida voz – La Milonga del Treno


In the ship directions sail

In the ship directions sail

30 September 2016

foghorn pinterest com 3


Stilted featherlight

Wandering through inner skies

Blooming waterfalls


Days of glory set

Inside the boats of childhood

Dreamland distant fog


The ship seeks lighthouse

My flanks a mountainous plain

Blinding sight for mind


In between a pair

A single spark in gardens

Dotted lines redraw


Eternity’s map

Flowing from my icicles

Seeking waters tip


Retrospect a mast

In the ship directions sail

Hindsight foresight trail


Reading of the poem: 



Sjöjungfrun och konungadottern – Gjallarhorn

Angel Tears

Angel Tears

30 July 2016

Angels tears carlos queyedo raphael
Courtesy Carlos Quevedo on


Falling rain

Covers my meadows

Black prairies

Grass withers

Scorching sunlight seeps within

Land of the fairies


The woods speak

Their voices wooden

Like ship mast

Now downcast

We carry our crew like rock

Flags of soul breach seas


Feeble mock

Their hearts set in stone

Marble walls

Angels’ Tears

Within the dark veins strewn thin

In loss of the Love


Reading of the poem: 

angelstears carlos quevedo
Courtesy Carlos Quevedo on

Troth – Thomas Feiner

Frozen chants curdling

Frozen chants curdling

24 July 2016

chantscurdling voolas com.gif


Sinking ships

Into oblivion

They seep slow

Like white ink

Inverted Chinese painting

Drawing my heart’s lines


The winter

Crawled up in my spring

In Ending


Unreachable changeling

Historical rhymes


Church bell chimes

My viscosity

Seeping through

Praying knees

The hands sunken thunderbolts

In altars’ steep wells



My proud branches fells

I am tree

High in skies

The clouds whisper to me sighs

Of forgotten times


Withered leaves

Count pages’ rustle

As the ground

Gathers bunch

Avid jaws of Time now crunch

Remnants of my bark


They will me

Frozen chants curdling

Upon lips

Lost in pleas

The chest heaving with the wheeze

Renewed consumption


Reading of the poem: 

chantscurdling on yatabaza com redhawk8.gif

You are my Winter – Dillon

The Unknown – Dillon

Texture of my Blood – Dillon

Unfolding mysteries spin

Unfolding mysteries spin

11 July 2016


blue singsnap com


Three fingers

Woven in the skin

Define me

Pink contours

The flash seen without detours

As the heat rises


Still glances

As the ship glides on

The icebergs


Above and below now bound

The law of fusion


Hot and cold

Term me dynamics

Balance point

Zero stance

Two heads one bodied soul joint

As the wizards dance


Dead freedom

Measures of the sleep


False we keep

Lulling us into the fields

Where orphans will weep


Writhing frames

The wilting will slain

Our bodies

Fallen stars

Mummies preserved where we’d lain

Tucked into the folds


Death akin

To ecstasies’ flames

Subtle grounds

My mind hounds

Unfolding mysteries spin

A blue heart to win


Reading of the poem: 

spirit universal-link-888 com

Uloin – Tenhi

Näkin Laulu (1997 version) – Tenhi

Haaksi – Tenhi


Solitary Dream

Solitary Dream

28 March 2016

dream thomasisrael be


She roams Earth

In illusion’s frame

Her pace slow

Her Heart still

Her staff semblance of Oceans

Waters toil uphill


From afar

He divides waters

Promised lands

Splitting sands

Temples of the past resurge

From deepest callings


More says less

Concern with banal


Mere boredom

A whipping cane for the sane

Tripping on folly


Like cancer

Silent ills resume

Throbbing growth


Body’s short persuasion

Dying in white noise



Metastasis cure

Journey’s end

Stepping point

Like Siamese from head joint

Ad-libbing the words


Anchor me

The waters rise high

My ship sways

With the storms

I have lived beyond the norms

Of daily winters


I see gleam

Solitary Dream

It shines through

Lost lighthouse

Promises of forgiveness

New found tenderness


Reading of the poem:  

dream artistsinspireartists com

Dream – Peruquois

Follow flight of birds

Follow flight of birds

4 March 2016

bride loverofsadness net


Mother wakes

Shaking off the crusts

From past wounds

Stretching taut

We receive havoc we brought

With our tiny hands


Tall splendour

She unfolds her gait

Ninth wonder

Defines her

Moving through Eleventh gate

Lava and thunder


Molten breath

She trembles and heaves

With the tides

As she rides

Brings upon us Mercy’s death

Split faith her stallion


birds thedemobay com


The blind screech

They cling to tatters

Dying leech

Mind flatters

While the seeing heart scatters

The law of Talion


birds sunnysup com


The children

Survivors of wreck

They sail lone

No captain

Only ghosts upon the deck

As they whimper lost


birds pooyingka com


We reborn

From scattered blue coil


Past glory

Huddled in ship hear story

Of ancestors’ toil




Now rejoice

I will remind you

How we fled


Leaving behind us sorrow

Shedding it like leaves


Nasal voice

Through Time’s loudspeaker

Calls for me

Warning shrill

It transforms to wing my gill

Splitting the ethers


Hurry child

Follow flight of birds

They head South

Where waters

Split through the red desert storms

Basking in two suns


Reading of the poem: 

birds sott net

Terra Firma – Delerium

Myth – Delerium

Just a Dream – Delerium

Wisdom – Delerium

Lamentation – Delerium

Aria – Delerium

Angelicus / Epiphany – Delerium

The Sky – Delerium feat. Kristy Thirsk

Till the End of Time – Delerium