by Marcin Malek

She'd grasped me unwittingly
- we are no more on this earth!
I heard frightened squealing
- we are no more here and there!

those were her last words
big nothing - a simple say
as the end of the world
starts with the end of the day

my love – I'll fallow your way
throughout silvery cobweb
gently plated on horsetail scales
I'll bear thy ashes until last breath

and wind a prophet mad
will blow the tale of dawn
protruding from behind
the veil of scorching night

with waving shimmer
across the fading skies
we'd used to be a dreamers
and soon we'll turn in to a dust

we'd used to be a streamers
amongst the ashed stars
as down below world grimmed
could not resist allure of bars

we'd used to be...
and be the peace with us
we are the leaves of tree
fondly axed apart

Portlaoise 05/03/2016

"Where bindweed blooms"

Marcin Malek's picture

Marcin Malek (born February 24, 1975) in Warsaw, Poland) is a Polish/Irish poet, writer, playwright, journalist, photographer. Published in: „Fronda”, „Tygiel Kultury”, „Akcent”, „Nowe Państwo”, „Stosunki Międzynarodowe”, „Opcja na prawo”, Leinster Express, Winner of the annual award of "Poetry&Paratheatre" journal (category: poem of the Year) for year 2012, (work: „Bieg – Czyli list do współczesnych”/"Run - a letter to the present"). Since 2006 lives in Ireland.

Last updated March 05, 2016