Stefan nnn Poems

What is the sound of
That which is soundless, that which
Is silent and deep?
...

Beyond sleep
I climb, and stand on the roof
The night is quiet
But for a lone peewit calling
...

The clock:
Ticks.
The tap:
Drips.
...

And, if I sit by the stream in the meadow.

And wait...
Will I sleep, and then wake?
...

I squint,
looking to catch the wan dawn sun
through this -
soft gentle summer;
...

a little knowledge
is a dangerous thing
a lot can kill
- cats at the very least
...

what is is
we can only ever dance
to the tune that is played us
though we pay in the end just the same
...

I was late for my own execution
- the moon called me a buffon
and all the assorted dancing bears
- fixed me with their coldest stares
...

i have had dreams.

bad dreams,
sad dreams
...

where is Love?
maybe, down the back of sofa?
where is Love?
trying to remember...
...