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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Junk

Angels guard cemeteries with spears

And graves go empty everyday.

Boards guard parks with red letters

And the junk collects everyday;

Paper,

Spit

And beer bottles

All empty.

Who knows what's in the paper?

Maybe

It's a debt notice.

Maybe

It's a love letter with the most romantic poem.

But it doesn't matter now.

Everything not in its rightful place

Is junk.

Angels guard cemeteries with spears

And graves go empty everyday.

Boards guard parks with red letters

And the junk collects everyday.





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