the poet's theme

You tell yourself “I’m okay”.

And it really feels like you are.

You breathe in, and you breathe out.

You start to feel better about yourself. About everything.

And Just as you settle into a kind of tranquility, it happens.

A moment that offsets the balance that you’ve found.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

Only this time, you struggle to say the words “I’m okay”.


Nicholas Hall of the Winter Palace. Hermitage Museum, St.Petersbourg.

“I think in pictures. Poems help me with this. They are like buoys in the sea. I swim to them, from one to the other. In between, without them, I am lost. They are the handholds where something masses together in the infinite expanse.”

— Exhibition “Anselm Kiefer, for Velimir Khlebnikov”  

Funny, I could’ve sworn
We were in the same boat,
But I guess you jumped
Ship some time ago
And swam for distant shores
To an island of your dreams.

I truly hope you find what
You are looking for there–
Build sandcastles in the air
Without them being washed away;
A land overflowing with
Milk and honey, may you
Never need money, and
Never lack for love.
It hurts that mine
Couldn’t be enough–
Yet I want you to never
Go without, even though
I must go on without you.

—  Now I row
Row this boat
I walk on by, cheeks blushing red / you cough a little, bending your head / I wonder what you’re thinking as I walk past you / (I wonder if you wonder what I’m thinking, too)
—  To K.E. IV Pt. 1: 11:46 a.m. | Sarah Z.

Swimming pools

And I dive deep,
Into the liquid crystal layer around me,
into the light blue pool water.
But I’m not separated from the water,
The water is me,
We’re one freewilling gost without a destination or purpose,
The water runs between my fingers,
Wraps itself around me like a thick skin ,
Holding me in balance between death and life. My thoughts are washed away with the force pressing onto my forehead. And suddenly it feels like such a thing as gravity never existed. Like the earth stopped spinning around the sun just to make me feel the value of this empty space. I look around, The only thing my eyes are capable of seeing, Is the blurry blue loneliness filling up the horizon. There is no in-between. Only blue. The blue ,blue oceanic water mixing itself into the blue ,cloudless sky over me. I can feel myself shrink as I realize how little I matter regarding this force of nature. this peace and quiet makes me accept how meaningless we humans are.
Where ever I push the water aside,
Little hurricanes of floating hope curl around my wrists,
Dragging me deeper into the deathly dark underneath my numb body.
I feel everything and nothing at once.
That’s a whole new world,
Away from all the business, the cars, the civilisation. Down here the only thing relevenat is the precious breath, slowly leaving my lungs.

—  me at 3 a.m.
(Lol nobody will ever see this but still, needed to post this somewhere)

vernal hours
laved in flowers-
the smooth & rolling
scope of spring:
soft as the belly of
a kitten- sweet
& cheerful as
a swallow’s sweeping wings.
the land blooms,
it unfolds in arches

through april, we are gently warmed-

all of the world is
a song in the throat
of nature’s placid charms.

on springtime // for @teacup13 // commissioned piece