Carsten Thomsen

Carsten Thomsen Poems

And in the light
of dying day
your voice grew
strong
...

The damage done
The bridges burned
The options gone
The lessons learned
...

I saw him walking
down the street
dragging dead dog
behind him.
...

Thirteen years older
but hardly wiser
I return to my past
to find you
...

It could have been me
There
On life support
...

With smiles
fragile as eggshells
...

Gaping wound in the sky
As the angels cried
and God apologised
for his lousy performance
...

Dodging bullets
gathering speed
get over or rid of
the things that I need
...

On the road
Away from
monotone
mundane
...

The drunken tenants
had cornered me
Set up shop outside shop
outside doorway
...

Butch
Cassidy
sundance
showdown
...

With lingering memory
of the sound of fear
in the voices of men
Screeching tires
...

Wearing little
but pants
a grin and cigar
you laughed
...

Dark road.
Radio on.
Late night
turning into
...

Declaring our love,

we wrote our
...

16.

Felt my pulse
And God's absence
But didn't care
much about neither.
...

Watered down with bourbon
and ice
to lukewarm
acceptable feelings
...

Angry liver
Blackout dark nights
and brooding aching mind
no more
...

My street

Residents
Rats
...

Carsten Thomsen Biography

..when simple words do not suffice - Im a ray of sunshine, a black cloud, Buddha and the 5th horseman, a brother, a son, a friend, a foe, a bum, a teacher (but still a student) , a smoker, virtual, bored, a unique speciment inhabiting a diverse world doing my thing as best as I can, a lover of sunsets fireflies and hermit crabs.In short: flesh - flaws - brains - balls ME.)

The Best Poem Of Carsten Thomsen

A Cab Drivers Confessions

And in the light
of dying day
your voice grew
strong
and boastful
as you showed me
your
celluloid past
pointing them out
One by One
telling me names
and dirty deeds done
and secrets shared
of
severed heads
landmine limbs
in treetops
and dried human ear
in key-ring
We raised our cups of whiskey
to abject adolescent atrocities
and
to you making it
out alive
when so many
armed lives for hire
hadn't

I took one
last long look

A group of grinning
boys in fatigues
posing
with guns
for the camera
who ALL
came back as
different
men

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