Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

dancing in silhouette

near ferns in my garden, spreading and sprinkling

like the green-grey fountain in the Plaza del Piedro

I think, so I think of the lost shadows of the evening

and contemplate you for a while

A dreamy being, you are

You dance the silhouette of the swaying of the palm trees

with a vulnerable smile of subdued pleasure

across the pavement of my deserted love's square a last ray of sunshine sweeps

and kisses the earth with advancing broad lips

until it has taken over the whole of the square

and I am getting lost in you, my love

with my old clarinet, out of date,

I echo in all the corners, into the dark alleys

This is how I console the bygone day

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:59 Reageer op dit bericht

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Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

Water

From the parched land I float to the sweet waters

where the stricken lake is still tinged with the salty colour

surrounded by transient reeds

my time there seems wasted

The current sings

and kisses left and right the caressing shore

and whispers softly to the green that waits

The cold loses an opaque membrane,

it is the sunlight that offers a burst of warmth.

Countless fluttering wings spread the scent

The scent that grows stronger and stronger towards the distance where dawn awaits me.

I hope that tomorrow you will look at me gently.

With some tender tears

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:58 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

In Pacem From : The Requiem by Julius Dreyfsandt zu Schlamm

IN PACEM

Farewell, my friends who are all gathered around me

I still feel the warmth of your love

and take it with me. This all will remain in my heart.

It will encourage the journey to the everlasting

where the creator will surely be in wait for me

and the angels, full of spirit and so finely circumscribed

will soothe your earthly sorrow with their wings of light

I weep once more and touch with my soul

your great hearts a moment longer

while the tender peace is already telling me about the silence

and helping me to shed earthly sorrow

Sing with me the song of the eternal peace

so that all our tears may be interwoven

Gradually divine joy will be born and revive in you

I may now be on my way and hear the call of the cherubs.

They want to carry me to the Lord on the palms of their hands.

For all of you a consoling thought

Farewell and wait till my return to you

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:56 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

Empty boxes

Hear me fill the voids of uneducated shadows that echo off the thickly plastered, blind walls

And the shameless fall of sand and gravel I perceive

as the crashing of decapitated words

So many layers over the years become artificial calloused or dust from ancient images

The soul, forced to nudity by the firing of cannons

that saw deep layers as certainty

The soul that regurgitates the mud in which the rotten poles have performed as a foundation for the pretence of hopeless plays to be performed

I often try to fill these voids with grey dreams

while my fists pound on empty boxes of hope

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:55 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

it is silent

the pure becomes visible in silence

I do not speak of coldness. I speak of calm in a wordless gesture.

turbulent currents drift towards the sea where I see a growing confidence rising in the burgeoning bilge

In this silence of rising joy, where sand and water come and go, my soul tells me: Ebb and flow have always carried me.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:54 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

when desire is dying

I would so much like to bind my deepest desire to a chain in my soul

Or embrace it tightly. and to sing with love songs

it says so much about suffering on earth

and even more about our human existence

There is so much desire for avoidance of the inescapable loneliness.

I want so much to relive those moments, to count the intimacy,

but then I am driven on in such a hurry

In the attempt to cling to dreams, in the attempt to be guided by dreams

When I find the other, the one who knows me and understands me

I will slowly be aware of what my bond with life is

The feeling that I have the right to be there will be more and more mature.

The desire will die. To inherit true love.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:51 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

a gilded lance

icy thoughts often eat away at the past in the conscience.

It atrophies the, gentle desire. It turns the skin into a shield and sees desire through an unsharpened lens.

and yet, sometimes very briefly, shines through supposed walls like a gilded lance, shining with pure brilliance.

For a moment it makes the feeling quiver

Only to die, as it were. Cast aside like a missed opportunity.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:47 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

Untitled

His chair was empty. It was so nude he sank into it.

into his world with the silk pillow; down to the wire worn and dilapidated, its seat still held together by two straps, soft with lost lustre

I feel he is not gone. I smell the scent of his skin, his unwashed hair, and share the sadness of his lost bride, with the tears through the years.

I can still see his smile on his face. His lips curled mischievously and words formed, sometimes spoken in silence.

He's still here. Isn't he?

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:45 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

elegance

My celebration of the joy of grapes, the sweet feast along your tendrils

caressing the leaves with the tips of my fingers, while a summer wind witnesses the sound of sighs

my velvety lady plucks the ripe fruit with delicate elegance

with delicate elegance she touches my mouth

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:44 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

blinding light

I lost the future in finding

sought to fill the past to re-bind me my old soul bound

and promised me golden mountains, dreaming of pure happiness.But the truth above all wanted to terrify me opening my eyes with a compelling pressure

I carry the emptiness under my arms like an invisible encumbered weight, but still take my breath consciously constantly focused on blinding light

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:42 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

Channanja

With budding vigour she plays the old Stradivarius

When she plays, her strings sound like words with sparkling letters scattered into an aging man's heart.

The violin, carved from gilded wood, trembles with joy under the fingers of this white lily. She is a girl with a still earthly past.

The old master of sound has also been given patience by the Creator: He waits for a miraculous maturation. It is always shrouded in mystery.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:39 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

the blue butterfly

how lovely and light my blue butterfly goes.

she floats fluttering around in my mind, flapping her delicate wings along leaf and flower.

who will not silently yearn for that.

when I see her and give her a smile she feels as it were the joy of a human being. in a silent wink she connects some happiness in an unspoken wish.

with her sparkling waving gestures she lights up hearts, makes me feel what no one can really explain but lovingly attaches tenderness to the other.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:35 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

Be my bride

be my bride when the night comes and the sun of my eyes descends into my heart

As I descend into the transience of created sorrow, be my companion.

place your hand on my shoulder and send me gently into the beloved woods. There the murmur of many souls will carry me

into the passing cold.

Be my bride, if only for a moment, a beat of eternity,

Go beyond what was. Carry me to weave.

Through the eyes of the angels the beauty will smile upon me.

Only then do I feel the greatness. Only then do I know what I am losing.

Be still for a moment, my bride. Such is life when I ring the bells irrevocably.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:33 Reageer op dit bericht

Zaterdag 22 juni 2024

the anticipation

my window is behind soft green tones of woods and trees. i already have a sense of what is to come.

I dream of autumn colours, of misty scents that will gradually herald the end of summer.

I am picking the last fruits. Before nature stops growing.

So my thoughts drift to the field of expectation, where farewells are so normal and falling leaves may soften the landing.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 10:31 Reageer op dit bericht

Vrijdag 21 juni 2024

I no longer cry out

I sometimes pile barren flowers on my field of feeling.

there was first blind hope to radiant expectation

like bees rashly sniffing a honeyed bush node.

in truth, however, gradually came the rigid image of the acidic desiccation in a silent watercourse.

words have long since ceased to count as they pile up on shards of broken glass, cutting me into carnal parts, not once, but again and again, again and again and so on of incessant convulsive resistance.

here I stand aging and see around me the missed opulence, drifting far away in dying fatigue.

i look back, i can't, it was life that robbed me.

Even the only reaching hand waved away my longing.

the indispensable has been crucified. i no longer call. I walk away into nothingness

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 19:51 Reageer op dit bericht

Vrijdag 21 juni 2024

like circles in the ditch

I feel in the peace of your womb

and dream of timeless pleasure

spreading like circles in the ditch.

What I am writing about are the loving looks

and the caressing fingers that run over my questioning body.

I spread my letters over silent thoughts

and imagine myself for a moment in your paradise

What more can I expect on this restful journey.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 19:48 Reageer op dit bericht

Vrijdag 21 juni 2024

in the air, so spacious

almost I go

Or am I already gone

No, as I say

There is still a journey to go

Longer than the long linden avenue

It is more like flying over trees

no oceans but wide streams

that is

on the way to the other language

the most beautiful but unintelligible

that is a double story

I notice while doing

I write myself away

into the future, which

also lies behind me.

I won't interpret it any further

That's already let that bell ring

though a heavyweight

that sounds in the sky

Yes, only conceivable in thought

Or tangible in feeling

It is also like waiting for a past

that beckons permanently

a single soul knows what I mean

but I won't go there

under the blue roof, perhaps grey

I carry a symbolism in stone,

metaphorically speaking

I seek a bridge in the sky

with an illuminating sigh

blowing or in a rumour

it's about, I call it

the slow gait of

a shuffling toad

he knows no better

doesn't think either

is not a man after all, not even looking

for the know-it-all

his existence goes on

inch by inch

he goes as he should

his way is continuous

how lucky he is, he doesn't know any better

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 19:47 Reageer op dit bericht

Vrijdag 21 juni 2024

in plain sight

condemned to insight is my time of present,

suddenly a boundary is marked to the past.

I still think of the roof terrace so close and near your dying.

we feasted a few more times on the brown bump we adored.

are you cold, you asked and gave an imaginary warmth.

it helped ward off the cold of the moment outside, and outside our ring.

we shared, clearly, a moment of opulence

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 19:46 Reageer op dit bericht

Vrijdag 21 juni 2024

I invite you

Come, look, you are so welcome in my eyes

Experience the gentle gaze that looks at you. Colouring you through fine sparkling crystal.

Come to me, give me your hand. My touch will be fleeting as my fingers play upon the skin of your body.

Feeling the rhythm of the tune we will make.

Listen to the sound of the voices that sing of the silence.

the two of us, enveloped by one another's breathing.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 19:44 Reageer op dit bericht

Vrijdag 21 juni 2024

The poet

With heavy words or playful chords, the poet lays a carpet for the the nearness of being.

He is of such weight that his ego is often shrouded in the fog known in London. He describes his hazy sins with great ease.

With dark vigour he often declares his own mirror.

in which the reflection, untamed, disappears into the coffee pot.

Geschreven door juliusdzs om 19:43 Reageer op dit bericht

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