Tag: poem

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TWO SENTENCES

Once
I had the urge for you,
similar to that feeling you get
after a night out,
when all you want to do
is get home
and be comfortable
under the warm covers,
except that
covers are always soft
and I turned harsh
on you
right now.
I despise
how your tongue
forks out lies
in a form of honey-glazed words
and how your mouth
turns into the shape
of the infinity,
as you disguise your mistakes
in candy-coated letters
as
I eye you up,
and my sympathy
turns into anger,
which turns into inspiration,
that I’m not gonna thank you for,
because
me opening my mouth
is only good for other things,
and they surely
are not
please’s and thank you’s.

– Chatty Owl –

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I KEEP ON DREAMING

Carefully placed fingers
press
against the pale shades of my skin,
that shivers in silence
and only evaporating heat
can be heard
in the still hours of this darkness.

Accidentally visible shadows
on the light blue wall
touch each other and
dance
to the music of their own movements,
forcing you to look up
and me to observe
– us –
in the form of faceless reflections
that are black in colour.

Your lips purposely sting mine
as I touch you
with a kiss,
which forces my crossed legs
do the opposite.

Trip over me, so we have a reason to touch.

– Chatty Owl –

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CAGED FRIENDSHIP

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Words of apology
hardly ever leave my mouth.
Guarded
by the maze of embarrassment
and tunnels of arrogant vanity,
they stay right
where
they (don’t) belong –
inside.
(Like your body parts
inside me
in the morning).
I like to wonder
about
what colour are your thoughts
when you think about me,
but then…
does it really matter?
I’m not your friend
any more.
Friends
are for when things go wrong
and you need a shoulder
or two
to cry on.
And lovers –
for when one is happy,
because
there is no better way
than to share your joy and money
with someone
you’re attracted to.
I’m not your friend,
because
you chose
to share your happiness
with me.

– Chatty Owl –

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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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SHORT AND SWEET

You’re here,
but you don’t want me.
You write long-winded words
and pretentious sentences,
waiting
for someone to take your bait
and pay you back
in three wishes
of African gold,
but let me tell you,
my dear,
bait is bitter and gold is cheap,
compared with a fact,
that
my biggest inspiration is anger
and you inspire me
a lot
lately.

– Chatty Owl –

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SLEEPLESS

I told you how I bite
more than I can chew sometimes
and how
I deliberately don’t sleep at night,
so I could think about
what you are doing
right now
on the other side of the world.
(Stupid time difference).
I want to be with you –
at least like this,
in present time…
They call it insomnia,
I call it obedience
and
being neurotic.

– 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

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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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MUSED, AMUSED

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I mused,
amused by my body
screaming “sleep, girl!”
as my mind hissed back to keep my eyes open,
in case I will see you.
I’m sure you were standing
right there in front of me in the dark,
I just couldn’t trace your contours.
You were like white letters
on a white sheet of paper.
Just the opposite.
Those little details are important,
when you care,
my darling boy,
but I ignore them.
Like smart men ignore smart women,
who are just pretending to be smart.
Everybody pretends.
And then they all get tired,
like I get tired of learning from my own mistakes.
So I just make new ones,
bigger ones this time –
hoping
it will make my past look
more decent,
more forgivable,
less shameful,
guilt free.
I despise guilt, so I steer away from it.
If I could, I would number all my men
and forget their names for good.
Names give them personalities,
and those give them power.
There is a very thin line
between control and arrogance
and that thin line is me.
I mused,
amused by the sound
of a four letter word.
And I don’t mean the rude one
that you just thought about.
The other one.

– Chatty Owl –

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RACKET

Thirty four missed calls
over
six cups of untouched coffee
and
I read the words out loud,
ignoring the brutal echo of their sound.
My hair is up
and my knees are pressed hard
against some foreign tunes in the room,
leaving me content and so peacefully happy.
I smile
as non-existing pollen makes me sneeze
eight times in a row,
reminding me that you are reading this
with me. Together.
And I enjoy
the racket of our hearts. Beating.

– Chatty Owl –