Debris in Life’s Wake
Poetry collection, 1989 to 2008
Poems are posted on the page in chronological order, below is a title index by category.
Darkness and Alienation
C’est la Vie || End || Escape || Espoused by Death || If || My Epitaph || My Finnish Lament || Pathetic Insecurities || The Outsider || Waking Up || Young Heart, Old Soul
Love
A Return to Poetry–An Invitation || A Tear from the Heart || Chatterings || Djamil || First Love || Hannu, My Soul’s Namesake || If We Were Together || In God They Became One/Jumalassa He Tulivat Yhdeksi || Momentary Bliss || Requited Love || The Delicate Healer || The White Rose
Non-personal Love
Love Dwells in Your Eyes || Misplaced Tear || My Muse || Not Good-bye || The Spirit of Finland in Me/Suomen Tunnelma Minussa
Sadness
Debris in Life’s Wake || For No One || Home/Koti || Morning Fog || The Fate of a Tattered Rose in a Candy-coated Society || The Rose
Tortured Love
Alone Again || Closing the Door || Do Not Touch My Heart || Earthbound Man || I Love You? || Love Deflowered (Haiku) || Melancholy Melodrama || My Heart’s Epilogue || Precious Words || Still-born Love || The Curse || The Dreams Are Gone || The Joke/Skojen || Thoughts in a Quiet Moment || Where Are You Going? || You Must Be a Dream
For No One – 12 September, 1988, Sweden
With whom are you laughing alone in your room?
With such pretty eyes you do smile!
With such a sweet, gentle glow you do speak!
And such intelligent, thoughtful words!
For whom are you waiting alone in your room?
With saddening eyes (but pretty all the same!)
And solemn, but thoughtful words
Spoken in a sweet, gentle way.
For whom are you weeping alone in your room?
With your pretty eyes so blinded with tears,
And your thoughtful words expressing such grief and sorrow,
Yet sweetly spoken with such gentleness.
For whom do you weep?
The Joke/Skojen – 11 May, 1989, Sweden [translation below]
Varför tittar du så på mig
med ett tröterikt leende i ögonen
som visar din tillgivenhet mot mig?
Varför säger du så där
att du förstår alla mina känslor, att jag är så fin och duktig
så att jag tror att du håller mig kär?
Varför rör du mig som du gör
med en mjuk kyss och milda smek på kinden
som ingen någonsin har gjort förut?
Och varför sa du inte då
att du bara skojade?
________________________
Why do you gaze at me so
with a comforting smile in your eyes
which reassures me of your affection for me?
Why do you say what you do
that you understand all of my feelings, that I’m so sweet and good,
so that I believe I am someone special to you?
Why do you touch me so
with a soft kiss and gentle caresses on my cheek
like no one has ever done before?
And why didn’t you tell me then
that you were only joking?
Pathetic Insecurities – 5 November, 1990, Edmonton
Where are you?
It’s so dark.
I can’t see you.
It’s so quiet,
are you there?
Am I alone?
Why have you fallen silent?
Have I done something wrong?
Let me undo it!
Did I utter a rash word?
I take it back!
Tell me, and I will change!
Only don’t leave me
alone in the dark,
in the vast empty silence,
in the black dead of night,
which reeks of terror!
And if you would be silent,
please hold my hand
and I won’t be afraid.
Waking Up – 27 January, 1991, Edmonton
where am i?
should i be here?
why am i here?
all by myself
cold and forlorn?
who am i?
where do i come from?
where do i belong?
what should i do?
where should i go?
where is my family?
where are my friends?
is this life-
a withering echo
of lonely
hollow
woe?
My Epitaph – 12 May, 1991, Berlin
There is one day of my life
To which I look forward with haste,
It will be the happiest day
Which e’er I’ll eke from this waste
Delighting in freedom from this battleground
Tears of joy I will cry
On the day life’s fatal blow
Lays me out to die.
The Curse – 13 June, 1995, Loviisa
Oh numbed unfeeling man
You naught but void shall reap
And in the hollow of your heart
Your lonely soul shall weep.
To deceive a young untainted girl
And when she offers you her love
Leave her there to pine and cry
Like a broken-wingèd dove.
All I can say is cursed be the day
You stepped into my life!
Long be your days and longer your nights!
And barren be your wife!
May heaven’s rain fall in your life
As in my life it fell
So sorrow will fill that empty hole
Wherein a heart should dwell!
You’ll not be so quick to cower
And label me insane
Once you’ve touched the acid of life
And felt that caustic pain!
To whom will you turn, your grief to impart
For your wife will say you are weak
And I will have died with the last of your heart
Consumed by the tear on your cheek!
The Outsider – 30 June, 1995, Riihimäki
Anonymous faces passing by
Foreign tongue, foreign land
I sit, my head in hands,
and cry.
Crowds of people here and there
running, walking
I look through tear-filled eyes
but where?
Broken-hearted and alone
wounded, betrayed
somewhere, nowhere
far from home.
Must wipe away my desperate tears
put away the pain
gather strength…move on
ere night-time nears.
I Love You? – 6 March, 1996, Edmonton
These words you say, “I love you,”
What do they mean?
I have heard these words before,
Misunderstood, then wept.
You mean, “I love you now, as the setting sun reflects the gold of your hair!”
You mean, “I love you, while the wind presses your thin gown against your shapely, feminine body!”
You mean, “I love you, when I hear your soft voice singing to me!”
Why do you abuse these words and deceive my heart?
For I know now, that when the sun sinks beneath the horizon and the reflection is gone,
When the wind dies down and my gown is still,
When I am far away and you cannot hear my voice,
so also will your love cease.
No, tell me not that you love me!
Oh adulterer of sacred words!
The Fate of a Tattered Rose in a Candy-coated Society – 7 May, 1996, Edmonton
I, fooled again, in numbèd tears did cry
“Nipped again in the bud, the rose has ceased to inquire why!
The world intent on stifling her in the blossom of her life,
Does commit a loathsome sin, applying its scornful knife!
As life is urging her to blossom, with love and tenderness,
Still alone she cannot budge without the warmth of Sun’s caress.
Yet no one will stay with her and smile upon her petals
To shower the warmth she needs within to coax her heart to settle
Though closed up and worn she as yet may seem,
Beneath the torn up layer lies a gentle, youthful gleam.
Yet the glory of this love neither world nor rose shall know
For, alas, her outer petals lack that polished, vinyl glow!”
Then there came a boy, far too young to have known,
Or perhaps a wise old man, to whom the truth was shown:
“Do not throw away the rose, though outwardly worn
For beneath those petals beauty is borne
Faith begets trust and trust is the womb
And therein the rose shall bloom!”
Momentary Bliss – 7 May, 1996, Aylmer
Oh! Won’t you take me in and give my wandering heart a home?
For I would joyfully die in your arms if I might cease to roam!
To expire at last my final breath, while gazing in your eyes,
At peace I’d lie in your strong arms and drown in blissful sighs!
And should sadness overcome me, as yet in life I lay,
The tears that would run down my cheek, you would kiss away.
Then, as softly you’d caress my hair,
I’d close my eyes and feel you there.
And, becoming short of breath,
I’d drift into
a gentle death.
A Tear From the Heart – 10 November, 1996, Ottawa
As I hold you in my thoughts
affection wells within my heart,
I yearn to draw you near to me
gentle kindness to impart;
To soothe your worried brow
with a tender kiss
And soften your expression
would be eternal bliss
Then for a time I’d stay with you
and shed a loving tear
When I’d see upon your lips
the smile I hold so dear.
Melancholy Melodrama – 12 November, 1996, Ottawa
It happened again, small wonder,
Since people seek out young hearts to plunder,
Seems mine never grows old,
With each new love, just as bold.
I don’t know why I am not like they,
Or why I believe them while they just play,
But God! How I wish I could protect my heart
And hide inside some acting part
Then play on stage and with them pretend
That my feigned affections troubled minds might mend,
All the while not believing
Those affections I’d be from them receiving.
But I cannot, and so I bare myself,
Display my soul upon a shelf,
And in the end, a lonely sigh,
Is all I have as I sit and cry.
Requited Love – 14 November, 1996, Ottawa
And if you were to become my prince
And I your lady princess,
Would you let me shed my tears
Of sorrow and of happiness?
Would you let me free my soul
Within the safety of your arms
And become lost in the magic
Of your endearing charms?
Then might I take your hand
And hold it to my breast
That you might feel my troubled heart
And set its pain to rest?
And then when life’s unwieldy burden
On your body takes its toll
I’d caress your weary muscles
To restore your fighting soul
And if a fear or sorrow
Should weigh upon your heart
Would you let me be the one
To coax it to depart?
Not Good-bye – 24 February, 1997, Ottawa
Hannu: “Now I only need a big and warm hug and sensitive shoulder. I hope you don’t say me over these words good-bye…don’t I’m beg for you.”
“Good-bye” is not a word that comes to my mind
When you choose to entrust me with tears from your heart,
By affections so purely and humbly inclined,
I can naught but be touched with the faith you impart.
How ever could I betray you and bid you farewell
When you come to me bearing your heart in your hand?
I feel deep inside you and sorrows there dwell
That make watching you suffer to hard to withstand.
So “good-bye” is not a sentiment I wish to express
Instead I wish to hold you near
And with a loving embrace and tender caress
I wish I might ease your pain and fear.
Perhaps give you strength, a strong will to move on
And mend your broken heart with a smile and a kiss
So you can gather your courage and face the new dawn,
Your spirit soaring in boldness and bliss!
Hannu, My Soul’s Namesake – 12 March, 1997, Ottawa
Hannu, my soul’s namesake
why have you abandoned me?
Your sad countenance, your lonely way
and sweet simplicity,
Have charmed my heart and soul to rest
within the spaces of your mind
So that there might be my haven
from the oddities of mankind,
The only place I have to go
where I won’t be alone
To escape the void in strangers’ eyes,
to hush pretentious drone,
The place wherein I can find myself
behind someone else’s eyes,
Where the delicate lace of my very soul,
can mingle and harmonize.
Home/Koti – 12 March, 1997, Ottawa
Koti on paikka unissani
Jossa tunnen iloa ja sydämellistyyttä
Kasvattaen rakkautta ja pehmeyttä
Jos olen turvassa
Teräviltä rosoisilta ihmisiltä
Joiden lempeimmät sanat
Voivat raadella puhdasta sydäntä.
___________________________
Home is a place in my dreams
Where I feel joy and warmth
Cultivating love and softness,
Where I am safe
From the cutting and jagged people,
Whose most delicate words
Can rend a pure heart.
Alone Again – 14 July, 1997, Ottawa
You have left me alone again,
So I’ll fend for myself.
No matter. My love can wait another lifetime,
Collecting dust upon a shelf.
Meanwhile, though outwardly I am not strong,
My inner strength will help me get by,
To fight my way through this anonymous world of strangers,
Though, now and then, I may just sit down to cry.
It’s ok. I’ve done it before;
All my life, indeed.
True, I am so small, and all the world so big
And human society does make my heart bleed,
And, out there in the world, I do feel quite lost,
Like a tiny boat in a vast, mighty sea,
Trying to stay afloat, not become prey
To shark-infested society.
And, you know, for me, jumping into this stinging salt ocean
Would mean certain death,
If not by the hunger of feeding fish,
Then by a ceasing of my breath.
And though I see no other land on the horizon,
As you wish, I will set out once more,
And pray that before my day is done,
My heart will find a friendly shore.
My Heart’s Epilogue – 09 December, 1997, Vaasa
It is over, your love is lost
Like gold dust through a seive.
Coarse dirt and rocks are all that remain,
So please cease, broken heart, to give.
Shattered dreams lie in your wake
And your fibers worn thin with fear.
It’s time to surrender your last bit of hope
Ere you dissolve into a tear.
Let go, dear heart, while you still have life,
Let go of the past, please cease to weep,
Just close your eyes and forget your love,
And veil your sorrow in sleep.
If We Were Together – 19 December, 1997, Vaasa
If we were together now, as you sleep, I would quietly go to you and take my place beside you. I would watch as you slept and reach out to delicately touch your hair, so dark against my pale, white hand. I would caress you lovingly, so as not to disturb your sleep. Then I would touch your face. Its roughness would chafe my skin and I would gaze at the profound lines which life has carved there, that I might somehow touch the chiseled roughness with the softness in my heart, somehow easing your burden. I muse, as I behold, how a man can have the stern face of an invincible warrior, but such gentleness in his eyes and such vulnerability in his heart.
Dear man, there is no touch, there is no poetry, no painting, no music, no art in the human repertoire, that could express the infinitely profound warmth, respect and admiration I feel in my heart for you. In this life we are parted, but one day, I will be an angel, so that I can finally touch you with my love.
Still-born Love – 19 April, 1998, Turku
Now, in the ruins of our still-born love,
I wander.
There’s not much here…just me.
Stagnating puddles of wasted love
Bearing reflections of forfeited joys,
A weeping angel,
And the melancholy emanating from my heart.
You see, this was my heart’s end, in joy or in sorrow, my home,
These ruins, my destination.
I walk. I can’t step in the puddles,
Lest I blur the dreams reflected therein.
All the same, perhaps I should.
I so often lose myself inside those reflections.
This was a vast promising space at one time,
Ready to be filled with beauty,
With sensuality and innocence,
And flooded with divine white roses,
Innocently voluptuous, unwittingly seductive,
Beauty from true essence.
Promise was there, where now it nothing.
And my lingering love,
Like a spirit trapped between life and death,
Is destined to dwell here,
In the ruins of our still-born love…
Idle…
Waiting…
The White Rose – 30 April, 1998, Turku
The sad white rose, soft to the touch
with dewdrop tears,
has wept too much.
The sad white rose, once without scorn,
now fingered by men,
bears her first thorn.
Men want to pick her to be their own,
to put on display
and fade in their home.
The beauty they see, they want to possess,
to have and to hold,
to touch and caress.
But men lacking wisdom do not understand,
that beauty will die
when clutched in their hand,
A wise man will see, that beauty’s her breath
and cutting her off
would mean certain death.
Instead in his gaze her pure beauty thrives,
for the warmth of the sun
she feels in his eyes.
In patience he sits and waits by her side,
that her flower might blossom
and she let him inside.
Thus sharing her secret which only he knows,
the depth and caress
of the love of the rose.
The Dreams Are Gone! – 12 May, 1998, Turku
(Sequel to Still-born Love)
The dreams are gone!
Upon gazing into a puddle of idle love
To entertain my mind, I found
There were no longer any dreams left
to taunt me.
Like autumn leaves, the dreams, grown weak,
Let go their grasp and drifted off
Into the winds of time.
There was nothingness,
Deep blackness,
A love gone numb,
Frozen in time,
Like the rosebud in its frozen winter slumber,
Awaiting the spring sun warmth,
To waken to
“Your winter is now over. Put away the darkness.
I am here. I see you,
the beauty you can become in the shroud of my light.
Bloom!”
Why can I not also fall into this frozen slumber
and awaken only
when he comes
to illuminate my darkness?
The Spirit of Finland in Me/Suomen Tunnelma Minussa – 13 June, 1998, Turku
Tunnen sadepisaroiden putoavan sydämeeni,
vai ovatko ne kyyneleitä?
Kenen kyyneleitä ne sitten ovat?
olenko se minä, joka itkee?
Vai näenkö kyyneleen miehen hymyilevissä silmissä
kun odotan bussia?
Tunnenko kyyneleen bussinajajan ilmeettömän ilmeen takana
kun astun bussiin?
Kuulenko kyyneleen huokaisevan naisen äänessä
kun istun hänen edessään?
Vai ovatko ne sadepisarat, jotka putoavat sydämeeni?
Ovatko ne minun kyyneleitä?
Miksi sydämeeni putoaa kyyneleitä?
Kuka itkee?
_______________________________
I feel raindrops as they are falling into my heart,
or are they tears?
Whose tears could they be?
Is it I who am crying?
Perhaps they are the sad tears behind the smiling eyes of the man
who stood beside me at the bus stop?
Or are they the tears trapped beneath the bus driver’s frown
which greeted me as I stepped onto the bus?
Or was there a tear in the sigh of the woman
who sat behind me, struggling with her child?
Or are these raindrops which are falling into my heart?
Are they my tears?
Why are there tears falling into my heart?
Who is crying?
Jumalassa He Tulivat Yhdeksi/In God They Became One – 13 June, 1998, Turku
There was a time when he saw me as his own,
I remember how he touched me
with his smiling eyes
so gentle were their caress, so firm,
that I melted into him –
into his strength, into his tenderness,
into his wisdom
until he became a fortress
all around me,
in which my soul could weave the delicate lace of her love
in safety
In his mere smile, I could create my heart’s home
and he his fortress
to protect me from being crushed
as I adorn his severity
with the gentle, fragile lace of my love.
The Rose – 24 November, 1998, Turku
One by one her petals fall
The lonely rose no more shall call
For soon her soul will be laid bare
and her fragrant essence fill the air
As petal by petal drops unbloomed
revealing a core which aged too soon
For the love inside had needed to flower
But a vile world converts love into power
Goodness and trust become weapons of greed
To strike down their victim and leave her to bleed
So, too frail for this world, the rose fell apart,
Shredded by thorns which had been pierced through her heart
And so will pass the delicate rose
Whose love upon hugging this frigid world froze.
Morning Fog – 15 December, 1998, Turku
Oh……here I am again
Same little bed
same empty room
same unfinished work
that I left yesterday.
Same four walls,
same dizziness,
same tears of loneliness
same trembling fear……
Perhaps I will just close my eyes a spell longer
and this time when I wake
I will be in his arms
and the sameness will be gone.
Young Heart, Old Soul – 14 February, 1999, Turku
do not tell me i am young
and do not say i have my life ahead of me
stop saying i look younger than i am
i am a long-suffering soul
who has struggled for the one thing she lived for in her life
and within hairs’ widths of her dream
watched in a daze as time and time again
reality sent her plunging into darkness and desperation
it’s just the love that makes me look young
if age were measured in tears shed
i would be older than Earth herself.
First Love – April, 1999, Turku
I await you
I await your touch
slow and trembling
when your roughness for the first time touches smoothness
when your harshness for the first time touches softness
if even just once I could feel weak
without melting into tears,
because I would feel your strength in me
penetrating my vulnerability.
Although painfully harshness touches softness,
your strength would become my own
so that I would never again be crushed,
Now and always, I await you.
Closing the Door – 6 May, 1999, Turku
This day I will close the door on you
On my dreams
On the intelligence of my heart
On my divine love for you.
Or was it you?
I felt you beneath your mask
I felt your loving gentleness, your insecurities,
the sweet innocence in your wisdom…
With just a thought of you, my mind could scan your soul
until I became one with your every thought, opinion and fear,
until your life experience was mine
so that I knew more about you than I ever could say,
God had melted our souls together.
Or had he?
You win
I could never remember, in my love,
as it engulfed my being,
that you wear a mask to numb your soul,
to freeze your heart’s true desires,
to keep order in your peaceful claustrophobic world,
you killed yourself, you froze your soul.
So, you win.
O.k., you’re right.
You are a cold-hearted, angry-looking old man
who doesn’t need anyone.
Forgive me for feeling warmth in your heart,
joy in your expression, softness in your eyes
and a want for love in your soul.
I believe you now, not myself,
for now the chill of your mask
has frozen and shattered the union that God had blessed us with.
So this day I must close the door on you
and ask “Where do I go from here?”
Do Not Touch My Heart – 6 May, 1999, Turku
Do not touch my heart
My love no man shall again awaken
with his sweet words
or gentle gaze.
What does man really know about a promise…?
No, don’t touch me,
no man shall ever touch my trembling softness
with his rough strong hands.
How painful it will be
when he takes his hand away,
because man always goes away.
Don’t touch me.
Just leave me alone
My white virgin gown is already adorned with a black veil
I will succumb only to him, I will melt in his arms alone,
Only for his desire shall I shed my virgin gown,
because her virginity is woman’s gift to her soul-love,
and waiting is the price.
For as long as he is away,
be it forever,
thus forever I shall wait and grieve.
Debris in Life’s Wake – 10 August, 1999, Turku
So what of all this debris?
A shattered home
shards of poignant steel deeply lodged in a soft heart
each further embedded daily in the softness
when touched by life’s passers-by.
A ravaged identity given by the world
having the value of ashes
swept away in a faint breeze.
A heart rent
from years of having been given to the careless and undeserving
And an old soul
capable of putting herself into the hearts of others,
yet nonetheless having found herself obsolete in the eyes of man.
What of this debris which has been left in life’s wake?
What purpose has it served?
Who has it benefited?
What is to become of it?
And will I ever be able to separate myself from it?
Escape – 20-21 October, 1999, Turku
How can I escape from here?
I am a prisoner of life,
I don’t even remember my crime.
The world is my prison;
God is my warden
not visible, but felt;
From a vast distance he promises me eternal joy,
freedom and a meaning for my life
in his silent whisperings in my mind—
is he teasing me?
When the old and the new afflictions of life
crush me
as if I were merely flesh and bone,
until I am overwhelmed by a numbing dizziness,
I want to escape
so that I close my curtains
turn off the light
and wish that I might cease to exist
like the colors of life in the darkness
but invisibility is not non-existence;
I would still be,
invisible, unfelt.
Nonetheless, in the darkness as I fall to sleep
and the word “death” is my comfort
an angel of the Lord comes
and whispers “God” into my mind
lulling me into sleep
unaware of the gentle smile on my lips
and tomorrow is a bright new day
in the prison.
Where Are You Going? – 17-20 December, 2000, Turku
Where are you going?
Are you leaving me again?
How I wish you would stay,
even for a night;
have you not yet understood?
You are a ray of light in my darkness
which dispels the terror of my nightmare
as I awaken from my restless sleep
in my private erratic world,
you are my peace.
You are the structure to my wild imagination,
which does not know where the nightmare ends
and reality begins,
in my sense-defying mind,
you are a word of wisdom.
You are a gentle artist
who with a firm hand
knows how to put together the fragments of my devastated soul
without breaking them again
In your hands they come together.
And I am a girl brimming with love,
for whom you are the sunrise and sunset
the lunar light, the Sol in Solar System…
What more could I ask of life
than that I might be by your side
night and day?
stay…
Espoused By Death – 19 June, 2001, Turku
Oh sweet death, comforter of my life-worn heart,
Constant, black spouse of my mind,
Only one in whom I delight, who also delights in me…
No bearer of unrequited love,
Nor of desires for another…
No loveless man for whom I will never suffice,
But a willing and peaceful, though cold, bed partner,
Beside whom I am welcome to take my eternal slumber,
Forswearing all mankind.
C’est la Vie? – 19 June, 2001, Turku
I dream of death, if not of you
And there’s really nothing you can do.
You do not love me and I must see,
As you yearn for girls who are not me.
Likewise, you must just accept,
That if not of you, I dream of death.
Love Dwells in Your Eyes – 9 February, 2002, Turku
Love dwells in your eyes
Love dwells in your soul
An objectless love
A love implemented in life
A love meant not just for me
I am not the object of his love
No one is; he is its subject.
If – 10 April, 2002, Turku
if somebody loved me
i know i would not cling to You
so unrelentingly
as these, the writhing limbs of the cursed,
tighten their grip
constricting wrathfully ’round my ankles
dragging me off with them
to eternal hellfire and damnation.
if somebody loved me
i know i would not clutch so desperately
onto Your shoestrings
fraying threads
dangling me over this wailing bottomless pit
sucking me forcefully into its whirl of eternally lost souls.
if somebody loved me
i know i would not grasp so frantically at Your heels
in futile attempts to save myself
from the fright of my living death
as i sink into my inescapable oblivion
momentarily pulling You with me
down beneath the line of sanity.
if somebody loved me
i could release my bleeding fists
too severely rapt in anguish
freeing You
laying to rest at long last
my abused heart
in a healing
bed of love
if.
A Return to Poetry–An Invitation – 15 April, 2002, Turku
From the world of the e-bug I herewith resign
To wrap me in poetry which once was mine,
All these machines and these games lack in heart,
Like your technological science and things “state-of-the-art”
Let us indulge instead in the poetry of life
Where heartstrings are pulled not solely in strife
Let warm tears of joy moisten our eyes
That an emotion of Love might make our minds wise.
If you feel for me as I feel for you,
When we meet eye to eye, we’ll know what to do,
But not through a keyboard, and not on a line
For affection and science do not intertwine
True emotion’s our hope, thus science our bane,
When addressing an issue which causes us pain,
Your sincere eyes and a gentle embrace,
Call forth Love in my heart that science can’t grace
The closeness of souls which your science impedes,
Softens my mind, thus anger recedes,
A kiss on the cheek, a gentle caress,
And the nature of Love reveals its finesse.
Having said this, and having suffered a time,
With respect I withdraw from your science paradigm,
And moreover to you an invitation extend,
To taste of affections and your science transcend.
My Muse – 10 May, 2002, Turku
God, please give me a poem…on this day, my love has flown away for a fortnight with another woman…God bless him and keep him safe please.
He comes to me like a beam of light
shining from afar
Beyond my reach his kind heartbeat
is my elusive star
By his light I see my poetry,
but his heart I may not move
It’s a far off place and I lack the grace
to soothe it into love
But I may sit and gaze at the endless rays
of warmth he sends to me
Lighting love in my heart, inspiring my art,
my humble poetry.
End – 28 June, 2002, Turku
This is the end of my human days,
Passed are my human ways,
Isolation and profound silence encompass me,
Like a mote, immense and fathomless
Rooted between myself and people
In this world I am but a faded flickering star in the night sky
Engulfed in the lonely and still blackness of space
Light years away from the comfort of any human voice
Set apart.
Precious Words – 16 July, 2002, Turku
There was one thing I did for him which he appreciated,
though a simple deed I thought little of;
but that fleeting moment came and went,
when I almost felt requited love.
“I don’t value you enough,” were his words to me,
though more telling was his gaze,
and I looked down with tear-filled eyes,
feeling undeserving of his unusual praise.
“There are levels of caring,” he came to perceive,
and the depth of my caring he found hard to conceive.
“You don’t know how amazing you are,” he went on,
“No one has ever done for me that which you have done.”
And for that fleeting moment,
I felt my love truly enter into his heart,
and come back from him and into me.
In that fleeting moment, I touched in him so deep,
I know in a place where no one should be.
And from that deep place, where as a rule he does not live,
came his sincere words of praise—precious, perceptive.
But after a moment he returned to the surface,
the level on which he lives his life,
where my love touches like snowflakes,
and words of comfort are airy and rife.
And no sooner had I blinked my eyes,
than that moment of magic was gone,
and again I was naught,
and again he was strong.
Love Deflowered (Haiku) – 14 May, 2003, Tampere
soft, milky-white, full
rose blooms in her virgin spring,
touched, torn come autumn
Earthbound Man – 14 May, 2003, Tampere
Shimmering in Heaven’s gold
she
from her soul
did love
Seeing not
he
in a million earthly shadows
was forgotten.
Djamil – 4 February, 2004, Turku
Sadness has never come to me,
together with such love and affection;
it is you, as I feel your pain,
and it is me, as I love,
coalescing in my soul.
Sadness has never felt so beautiful.
It is my desire to touch your sorrow with my love
to join you in your mind,
to feel you in your heart,
to delve so deeply inside your masculine soul,
that I might even find some strength there
to make my own.
Love never felt so beautiful from afar.
And you never looked more beautiful in my mind’s eye;
your departing silhouette, so light in the distance,
has such a radiance and dignity,
I could not see before.
And love from afar never felt so beautiful in me
…fading…
And you, Djamil,
you are so beautiful,
when you are free.
The Delicate Healer – 19 February, 2004, Turku
Come to me
rest your unsettled mind
in my heart
and with my gentle love
I shall caress away all your worries
Come to me
rest your broken heart
in my mind
and let my thoughts of admiration and respect
remind you of your true value
Come to me
rest your life-worn soul
inside me
and I will heal you
with my feminine touch
And you shall face the new day
As a wise man and a warrior.
Thoughts in a Quiet Moment – 25 March, 2004, Turku
(Sequel to The Delicate Healer)
Love is not as it is in poems
no
It is as hell on earth.
Where does the translation get lost
between the inner heart and life expressions?
How can such divine internal beauty,
upon touching earth’s atmosphere,
turn such a hideous and bitter profound self-consuming black?
As if it were the darkest hell,
veiled over with a deceptive façade of selfless concern…
I don’t understand-
why is love not as it is in poems?
My Finnish Lament – 4 June, 2004, Turku
(in response to a poem written by an Egyptian girl longing for peace and silent streets where she could hear her heart beat)
In the silence of the streets,
in such a place as where I live,
it is true,
you will hear your heart beat
along with the soft touch of snowflakes
across the virginal white, snow-covered land,
you will see the warmth of your breath in the air,
and the wretchedness in others’ eyes
will pierce your soul
through the hopeless silence;
you will feel their tears,
thinking they are your own,
while the chill beneath their welcoming glance
will prick your soft, warm skin
as a poignant, protective quill.
You will feel the denial in their hearts
and if you are not careful,
fall prey to their inward illusions.
But the peace, indeed, is beautiful
if within you, you can keep it.
Misplaced Tear – 4 June, 2004, Turku
The sadness in your eyes
lays bare your downcast soul
wherein dwells a sorrow so deep
its unshed tear is born,
moist in my own eye,
as you speak,
you speak and speak
words of piercing pain
you speak without feeling their sting;
while in my words
my understanding, my compassion,
my warmth I give,
you hear, you read
without feeling their love.
You Must Be a Dream – 16 July, 2005, Turku
You must be a dream, because every time you leave me, I am in the middle of a thought, in the middle of a feeling, in the middle of a touch, and yet you leave when I have not yet had the time to tell even one thought, one feeling, one touch, and they are infinite.
You must be a dream, because every time you leave me, your stay is so brief and your departure so sudden, that I cannot convince myself that you were ever here.
You must be a dream, because every time you leave me, I find you gone just before the love can become real, and you leave me with a heart of tears, so close to love, I nearly had it in my grasp, but before I can touch you, you vanish like smoke into the air before my very eyes.
You must be a dream, because every time you leave me, I feel like a rosebud has been cut off before it had a chance to bloom.
You must be a dream, because every time you leave me, I wake up alone in the dark, hopeless, empty, with my broken heart.
Chatterings – 5 January, 2006, Tunisia
You and I slip unnoticed
below the din of their chatterings
beneath their dining table
with an appetite for far more than food
Beneath the table you and I meet
unperceived in our private place
to fill ourselves up
from the core of our soul to the infinity of God
you feeding me, and I you,
with an intimacy and a nourishment
they cannot conceive
because they think the essence of life
is in their chatterings and in their food.