Prison Break

Love is a cruel thing to suffer if no one can ever know. In fact, you will never truly understand the words ‘so close and yet so far’ unless you love someone you are not supposed to love. It doesn’t go away, it taints everything you say and do, it rules your thoughts and emotions while you have to keep up a facade, always pretending you are all right. It requires all your energy to focus on not letting your tongue slip – or look at the person in a betraying manner –, you cannot even mention a name. One misstep may cost you everything, judged and branded and dismissed for ever. The cruelst part of it is that both of you are going to die without the other ever knowing you loved them – truly, madly, deeply, utterly, totally, absolutely, uncompromisingly, undeniably, irrefutably, unreasonably, and irresponsibly.
On a personal note, I love you more than you could ever imagine to be loved, but you are lost to me now. Your rare and delicate smiles are the only light I need in the darkness of my dreams, but I’m a tree with routes running deep in the ground, and I could never hope to reach and be with you even if I grew wings. You will never learn of the tenderness I felt and still feel towards you; you will never learn of the priceless joy that overcame me when I genuinely made you smile, delicate flower that you’ve always been. For regardless of how close you still may be, you are lost to me now, and thus will remain oblivious for ever to the insane love I bear you. For it is madness that I should love you the way I do if it meant both our ruin. You are lost to me now, and thus I am left to scream my throat out in this soundproof prison of heart and mind. You are lost to me now, and so the veil of the night slowly enshrouds me. You are lost to me now, for I shall never see your face again. You are lost to me now – and I am lost without you.

Stillstand (Standstill)

Please scroll down for an English translation.

Ich weiß nicht, warum ich aufstehe
und gehe, wohin ich gehe.
Ich folge keinem Regenbogen
und finde keinen Topf voll Gold.

Ich setze einen Fuß vor den andern,
ohne einen Schritt voranzukommen,
denn letztlich treibe ich ja doch nur
von stiller Ewigkeit zu Ewigkeit zu dir.

[ENGLISH TRANSLATION
I don’t know why I get up
and go where I go.
I’m not following a rainbow
and won’t find a pot of gold.

I place one one foot in front of the other
without taking a step forward,
for in the end I only drift
from silent eternity to eternity to you.]

Excuse

When I say, ‘I was lost’,
I mean that I believed the illusion
of there being a path
when I know all too well
that behind the veil
only the void awaits.

‘I am back on track’ means
that I am back where I started,
in an endless sea of nothingness
and an unbearable lightness of without-you.

I cannot live for my own sake,
my mere existence is a burden
on to my self
which I myself can’t carry.

I’d rather carry you and your burden,
so that standing on my shoulders,
you could reach for the stars,
for my only dream is
to make your dreams come true,
which makes me feel light as a feather.

Yet the laws of attraction demand
that I care nothing about you,
for it is not my attention that you crave;
you just want to indulge in the game
of how to get it
and then regret it
to ditch me without excuse.

But the flame of my candle
will keep burning,
until I fade away,
in the mist of memories
of ages gone by,
my only means of reaching out to you
while we are for ever apart,
and my only excuse
the love I bear you.

Home Is Where Your Love Is

Home is where the heart is,
But my heart is with you.
The most important part is
I love you through and through.

How can I sleep, how can I breathe?
You’re unaware and must not know.
In silence I must lie and bleed
And follow where the rivers flow.

Home is where your love is,
But my love is with you.
The most important part is
My love for you is true.

How can I eat, how can I see?
You’re on my lips and on my mind.
I know without you I can’t be,
What comfort could I ever find?

Gone

Just a quick write-up. It is rather lyrics than a poem, so I shall most probably make it into a song.

I redid my calculations,
And the conclusion I’ve won
Is that if I were still here,
I had better be gone.

For the light grows dim,
And wherever you’ve been,
I’ve been waiting for you,
But you never came.

I’ve inspected the hole in my existence,
And it’s all been hindered by my persistence,
I’ve been everything and anything wrong,
It all could be mended – if I were gone.

The cure for this whole situation
Doesn’t take a silver tongue, easy persuasion.
It’s been written all along on the wall:
For the one to thrive, the other takes a fall.

Tomorrow

If I were dead tomorrow,
Your heart would skip no beat;
You’d not be full of sorrow,
But full of joy and heat.

If I were dead tomorrow,
You’d sit out in the sun;
No tears would ever follow,
If I were so undone.

I loved you like no other,
My heart now cold and hollow;
For you would never bother
If I were dead tomorrow.

Cupboard Poetry

The other day, I visited a friend of mine who has bits of words on his cupboards. Most of the words and syllables provided suggested sexual topics, so I tried to come up with something more lyrical. This was the result: