No way

All that energy is gone

Just a low hanging fruit

A place of no hope

Only pain remain

That is life

Here and now

Life Is a Loss

Life is a complex mess

Nothing is what it

Seems to be

Just a lot of

Dark shadows

Destroying any

Clear sighted conclusions

Up and down

Down and up

Around the town

Perfectly without

Any control

I travel around

Around before

Coming down

To face every Monday

Of my life

At It Again

Waking up after a really

Long night, that never

Ended of driving

Through the forest

I try to change

My way of working

But lost out

Now it is time

To get back and do it

Again

The Poets Lamentation

Poetry is always a lost cause

No money no readers and

Very little encouragement

We poets are like the Albatros

Free in the Wind but lost

Onboard the ship that is

The rest of humanity

So, yes Baudelaire is right

We poets are not that good

In taking a fight

But here we are

This our time

On earth

Stony Roads

Travel without any aim or reason

Walking outside in the rain

Mile after mile

On stony roads from dawn to dusk

My feet’s are sour and the stench intense

The backpack heavy and the mind like a

Broken record

Still fighting on,

For the few moments of solitude