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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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The sadness we want

 


A fly stuck in a purple neon light,

A camera on the shelf

With the straps hanging down,

A candle;

Small and melting into itself

As if squished in by a giant…

Still burning.

There is a beautiful sadness in this world.

This is the sadness

That makes us smile through tears.

This is the sadness we long for,

This is the sadness of the religious man

Crying at Christ’s feet,

This is the sadness we all want;

Something truly beautiful…

Like a yellow light through purple curtains…

Something truly beautiful,

Yet somber,

Yet tragic…

What we want

Is a fly stuck in a purple neon light,

A camera on the shelf

With the straps hanging down,

A candle;

Small and melting into itself

As if squished in by a giant…

Still burning.



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