*******
REMEMBER.
The garden
remembers you.
Summer(even in its dying)
remembers too.
Night, bright
with stars remembers you.
Flowers
remember the touch of your hand
when they were only seeds
dreaming of evenings
such
as
these.
Midnights
remember your presence
unable to
understand
your absence.
Silences
remember your laughter.
Water, chuckling
remembers your love
of it
like a child
unable to understand
your death.
Only I
trying not to remember
the nearness
of your kiss
unable to
forget.
*******
CAN GHOSTS DIE?
Missing you so
much
I become
my ghost
travel to your death.
Here,
once more we kiss.
Each kiss
a cut
until my ghost
bleeds
real blood.
Each kiss
a tear
until my ghost
cries out & cries
real tears.
Each kiss
a mortal wound
until my ghost
dies
back into
being
the flesh & blood
of me
without you.
Your face
as if far away smiling
trapped behind
the glass
of our
favourite photograph.
*******
MOMENTO.
In the dark
a match strikes
lights up your smile
& that last cigarette.
Neat as ever
(you put the match
back in the box)
Your laughter
blown away
scattered over
an unseen sea
talking to itself
as if maddened with grief.
“Look..? ”
you chuckle
“...not only the last ciggie
but that was
the only match
left in the box! ”
“God! I would have died
without a fag! ”
...the rest of your words
snatched by a sudden...
gust of wind
from the still unseen sea.
The moon
nowhere to be found.
Now, in the years
unknown to you
that only
your death
can visit
I keep
(still)
in a matchbox
that last match
& curled up beside it
your laughter
both tiny &
fragile as memory.
******
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem