Tag: love

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LOVE OF AN OWL

You have such a talent!
A talent?
A talent for what?
Anyone can ramble away
in bitter words,
but that’s not a talent,
it ain’t special.
It takes more
than a sarcastic comment
to be a poet
and
I’m just a blabbering owl,
who saw a chance.
I told
way too many men
that I love them –
they never questioned how much,
so I just shushed
about the quantity
and fingered
words in sand
of a pure lie –
“I love you”.
They ran to me,
led by an instinct,
like little kids run to their mother
in need of reassurance
and
indescribable momentum,
except the fact
that
they weren’t children
and I had no intentions
of directing them
away.
Those stories ended
before they even could begin
and I never cared enough
to explain
why
I never bought them
Christmas presents.
There is no such thing as Santa
and no such thing
as the love of an owl.
Judge me tomorrow,
today we are still pretending
to be happy.

– Chatty Owl –

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RESIDUE

A second choice,
a backup plan –
like leftovers, still warm on your spoon,
but tasteless –
good only to keep your body alive,
surviving,
but
without any real passion,
that humanity craves so much
(that you crave so much!)
Thats all you get –
residue,
substitute of feelings.
You’ve been living off her love,
but there’s none left any more
for you,
just chucked-outside coldness
and pity feelings –
like trash of the riches.
I know you hurt all over
as if your skin is a reflection
of a bruised soul
and I watch you force yourself
to fall asleep like this –
by waking up with a headache,
that seems so soothing
in comparison.
She has done it.
Not on purpose, yet so effectively.

You left your life for her
and she returned to hers –
without you.

– Chatty Owl –

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JUST ANOTHER DAY

Waiting for seasons to change
is as much fun
as getting your hair stroked
by your own hand –
it’s never as pleasing,
unless somebody else does it.
Naked trees are not the same
as naked bodies,
but it’s all porn to me,
because
I don’t believe in covering up
feelings
that I don’t have for you.
There is no shame
in wanting to forget your name,
but it is unfortunate
to realise
that I already don’t remember it.
(Or maybe I never even knew it?)
just like you never knew
how much I despise flowers in fields
and pots
and vases,
but I smile every time
you attempt to pick them for me,
because
that’s how much I don’t care
to be truthful to you.
“It’s not fair”, I hear you think
and I have
only one answer to this –
“you’ll get used to it”.
You and me –
never in love.
We learned the words of it,
but not the language
and when you looked me in the eyes
with that adorable look
that whispered how you feel,
I revealed the biggest secret –
it’s not love, my dear.

It’s just another day.

– Chatty Owl –

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CALM MONDAY

20130204-122337.jpg
I make you believe that
I’m an open book
by making you read me
backwards –
like a cryptic countdown.
But you already know
the culminating end
will be
those peaceful, well-known words
of
“once upon a time…”
Hard covers are lying
about how tough I am
and how well I bluff
looking right at your face,
but we both can’t hide
the attraction,
that’s measured in two-tone
poker chips and
rigid paper money,
hidden in the scent of those old books.
So don’t ask me
why I continue drinking coffee –
I’m just hoping
to find you
at the bottom of my cup.

– Chatty Owl –

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IF’S, BUT’S AND EXCUSES

You grabbed my hand
to grab a bite
in that place at the end of the street,
where you sneaked in a bottle of gin
at 10 o’clock in the morning –
the same time I promised you
that
I will pickpocket the love
out of your heart
to leave you with lust
only,
as that is stronger
than emotions and money put together –
because it forms a feeling.
I gave you a taste of myself
and made you crawl for more,
but you gave me a sneak peak of your life
and made me lose interest,
even though
we never loved each other more
than we do now.
You gave me a reason,
but I gave you a solution
and then we both broke our promises…
The only thing thats left for us
is gather dust in relationships
with someone else.
Loved,
but acting so unloving –
back at them.

– Chatty Owl –

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TANGO

I will let myself borrow the music from your life. The tunes, that are always right and make their way into my soul.

Yes, tango. The only dance that makes me weep. No matter how hard I try to keep my face of stone, it just melts me into memories of how I used to…long time ago. If you asked me to show how much I love you in the most intense way, I’d dance for you.

With you.

The speed! The twirl! The affection that just seeps through! Those red ribbons against my skin and firm taps on the floor would proof the love in such a way, it would leave you breathless to ever doubt it. The power! The one that lifts my whole body up and covers me in sweat of the salty passion. The dance, that dismisses all questions and leaves you craving more and more and more. Like a crazy madness of unstoppable speed and imperceptible sadness this two-step brings. The heat, the storm of sensation, that bounces back and tickles the bare triangle of flesh on my back. Your palms, holding me. My nails, leaving marks on your skin as I glide my fingers down your arms. My hair, touching the floor as you let me go and your hot breath on my cheek as we stop. And look at each other. Before resuming this immense act of seduction.

I would dance myself to death to prove my delirious fever I have for you.

– Chatty Owl has left the building –