Literary blog of mostly poems in English and German

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Haiku N°2

on September 20, 2016

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Grollender Donner.

Der kühle Regen prasselt.

Im Warmen bei dir.

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Pain and Remedy

The love I feel for you: I cannot take it back. Tainted blood runs through my heart I feel it turning black. You left me on this sinking boat; The ocean wrecks my soul. The deep abyss embraces me. My heart has lost control. So, do I choose to love the wrong? I curse and hate my heart. I should give up, I should withdraw? The end is just a start? Is there still time to make you mine? “Give up, my friend, let go!” I'm tired, fed up, I'm sick of it! That's all the truth I know. When years have passed, will I endure? Can broken turn out mended? Will I still think quite fond of you Or will our love be ended? Perhaps there is a different world In which you play my melody. Your gentle voice is on my side And thus becomes my remedy.

The Name of the Wind

Four doors of the mind to cope with our pain Are shrouded but open and deep in our brain. The first one is sleep which offers retreat. We hide from the world, where's noone to meet. Those things that can hurt will vanish and fade. Neglecting your faults, the errors you made. The second's forgetting. Some wounds are too deep To heal or to vanish. We cannot just sleep. If wounds are not real, but memories instead, You'll displace these memories while resting in bed. The third one is madness. Your mind goes insane. Reality's gone and caught by a chain. You could not forget, left all things behind. Your mind becomes dizzy and pain will be blind. The last one is death: the final resort. You'll die when you're old, by sickness or sword. Yet pain is not all: You've loved and you've sinned When finally you'll know the name of the wind.

Jeremiade

Aus Asche steigt Rauch, Die Glut ist noch warm, Streng riechend der Schmauch; Ich spüre den Harm. Das sengende Feuer Zog längst schon vorbei, Hinterließ nur Gemäuer Und brach sie entzwei. Die Narben und Wunden Verblassen im Licht Alsbald ist verschwunden Die nötige Sicht. Versuch ihm zu trotzen, Dem Kummer, dem Gram. Vor Kraft kann nur strotzen Der trostlose Kram. Die Schwingen versagen Und ich stürze ab Unter Jammern und Klagen, Direkt in mein Grab. Die Welt ist mir fremd Doch bleibe ich hier. Wehre mich vehement Und weile in ihr.

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Copyright by Philipp Lehmkühler

Haiku N°2

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