poetry

poetry

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart againstThe want of you;Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,And posting it.

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart againstThe want of you;Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,And posting it.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

That’s what I do: I make coffee and occasionally succumb to suicidal nihilism. But you shouldn’t worry — poetry is still first. Cigarettes and alcohol follow

That’s what I do: I make coffee and occasionally succumb to suicidal nihilism. But you shouldn’t worry — poetry is still first. Cigarettes and alcohol follow

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

The lamb misused breeds public strifeAnd yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The lamb misused breeds public strifeAnd yet forgives the butcher's knife.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

It costs me never a stab nor squirm / To tread by chance upon a worm. / Aha, my little dear, / I say, Your clan will pay me back one day.

It costs me never a stab nor squirm / To tread by chance upon a worm. / Aha, my little dear, / I say, Your clan will pay me back one day.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road.Healthy, free, the world before me.The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose.Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune.Henceforth, I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing.

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road.Healthy, free, the world before me.The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose.Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune.Henceforth, I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

My heart born nakedwas swaddled in lullabies.Later alone it worepoems for clothes.Like a shirtI carried on my backthe poetry I had read.So I lived for half a centuryuntil wordlessly we met.From my shirt on the back of the chairI learn tonighthow many yearsof learning by heartI waited for you.

My heart born nakedwas swaddled in lullabies.Later alone it worepoems for clothes.Like a shirtI carried on my backthe poetry I had read.So I lived for half a centuryuntil wordlessly we met.From my shirt on the back of the chairI learn tonighthow many yearsof learning by heartI waited for you.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,But often, in the din of strife,There rises an unspeakable desireAfter the knowledge of our buried life;A thirst to spend our fire and restless forceIn tracking out our true, original course;A longing to inquireInto the mystery of this heart which beatsSo wild, so deep in us—to knowWhence our lives come and where they go.

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,But often, in the din of strife,There rises an unspeakable desireAfter the knowledge of our buried life;A thirst to spend our fire and restless forceIn tracking out our true, original course;A longing to inquireInto the mystery of this heart which beatsSo wild, so deep in us—to knowWhence our lives come and where they go.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

tell meof something fiercer than the love with which i gaze upon youof something softer than the tendernesswith which i hold you.

tell meof something fiercer than the love with which i gaze upon youof something softer than the tendernesswith which i hold you.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough; And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough; And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind—As if my Brain had split—I tried to match it—Seam by Seam—But could not make it fit.

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind—As if my Brain had split—I tried to match it—Seam by Seam—But could not make it fit.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Love me like a wrong turn on a bad roadlate at night.

Love me like a wrong turn on a bad roadlate at night.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

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