Pages

Sunday 28 September 2014

Poem: Autumn in Madeira

Autumn in Madeira by Jacek Yerka
when autumn wind blows
and brings with it that familiar scent
I pack my bags and move to my tree house
in the shelter of tree trunks I create
a village where my soul becomes alive again
I put my thoughts on the leaves
and watch them disappear
for everything that is, perishes
I know the world to be written in tragedies
but beauty of life shines through them
in all the seconds we get
we can guess which one will be our last
which one will bring change
and in which one we will get lost
but in one second your life can pass you by
and it's up to you what you made out of it
divide your days into the things
your heart believes in
and observe it grow
*
Written for Mag #239

Thursday 25 September 2014

Poem: For me alone


                through the years
it's been a waiting game
which at times I believe I've mastered
yet it creeps up on me, unexpectedly
and every time it turns out I lose
      repeat, repeat
just to relive the same tragedies you feel
yet hope always burns stronger after the war
how can it rise up like that?
such a foolish mind it has
                 so much depending on it
when jobs are scarce and the future
you had planned has left only ashes
you hear voices of a foreign land of milk and honey
but you've learnt that grass is not always greener
                on the other side
under the covers I've been hiding for so long
the pillow became my best friend, an excellent
secret-keeper, yet I've been waiting for someone
who would want to hold my hand
                for a step or two
to be curious and courageous
since it's never easy, no way of knowing
so I pretend he feels the same way
some people have a way of dragging you out
                in the end, retreat, retreat
into my shell, which hasn't become
any more comfortable with time,
it still aches in the same old places,
sleep wash me away, for only in dreams
                we can live free
*
I really hate it when days like this come.. I'd rather sleep through.

Sunday 21 September 2014

Poem: Treading in flood

Written for the Mag 238



I've been hiding in a tree
on a branch which understands sadness
I like the rain the most when it
gently kisses the skin
so the roots can grow peacefully
it takes time and wrong decisions to find home
a place where your heart will glow
lately, the rain came pouring down
and all I want to do is run, run away
scream at the top of my lungs
as if another storm is coming
this time, coming from within
treading in flood I turn around and think
is this the life I'm supposed to be living?
*
 All the different things we see...feel.

Sunday 14 September 2014

Poem: Silence after the song


thousand memories
launched on the ocean of your heart
you sense them sail,
etching on the surface, causing ripples
with no prediction
in which direction they will lead
all you know
there might be pain and sorrow uncovered
for the night
can bring light to your past
but in the end
there will be acceptance of all things
and undeniable comfort
of the way you feel your own skin

Saturday 13 September 2014

Poem: Love of thousands

Photo is from a calendar, I don't know the author.


the heart can stumble, fall, float or drown in silence
the mind flying behind it, tries to reason with it
offering compromises in last rational attempts
and then the echo of a storm is seen in the eyes
but dive far enough, there will be peace,
there will be love

you carry love of thousands inside you
all your ancestors fought against the odds
took chances, met coincidences, played with fate
engaged in the game of love, ignited fires
into new hearts, exchanged stardust on the fingertips
                with those they touched

they are long hidden in the corners of your cells
somehow they still live on inside your name
as you stand here now, lost in a small memory
of the journey behind how your heart started beating
what does it take for two souls to meet?

*
It's not that this poem needs any additional explanation, but I just wanted to write down a few thoughts. For now I still work in gynecologist office, and pregnant women sometimes bring photos of their babies when they come for the post-partum visit. And we have walls covered with pictures of babies. And one morning I was watching these faces, all cute, new, innocent...and I thought of the long journey it took for them to be here now. The life stories of their parents, the love, the hope... And how sometimes I feel like an intruder, as we watch on ultrasound how their bodies develop; listening to the heartbeats of the unborn babies. Imagining what great odds and coincidences it took, for them to be here now, to get a chance of living. And all of this made me think...