Author: Christiaan van Gaal
Day 1540, slightly
Day's pictures, Poetry
From out of a nightmare
I get touched
slightly
by a tiny tentacle
attached
to an eerie shadow
~
I wake up
and realize
it’s just
reality
Day 1539, flower.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The sun is there
and I normally flower
dancing on the grass
with the wind
besides the streets
~
but the streets
are toxic
my address is torn
I am afraid
that I
will not sow
this year
Day 1538, silence.
Poetry
In despair I turn it all off
and look at a flower
Day 1537, white chalk.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The outline of a flower
drawn on the black street
~
the color that once attracted
has drifted away
the empty shell
will soon
be discarded
~
and the white chalk
that marked
is put away
as to have
in this all
no blame
Day 1536, hard white rocks.
Day's pictures, Poetry
In-between
the hard white rocks
a sun barely reaches
the fertile soil
~
but only the shimmering
of the shadows down there
spur some on
to take over
and go towards
the hope
of some light
Day 1535, reach out.
Day's pictures, Poetry
There are millions
of us
waking up
to reach for the sun
~
who shines
to bring
all of the colours
from out of our shadows
Day 1534, structures.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I saw today
by coincident
this mental picture
~
it depicted
the structures
supporting me
from the ground
up
~
I recognized
some of it
other parts
not
and in the shadows
I couldn’t see
and maybe
I
Day 1533, waiting.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I see
there is one light
shining
on this bright day
~
maybe I should wait
till I have use for it
Day 1532, free.
Day's pictures, Poetry
All these free wills
are
colliding
with each other
~
while nature
is holding
their hand
Day 1531, when I slept.
Day's pictures, Poetry
It’s the bridges
that brought me here
that I see
collapsing
In the nightmare
that I had
when I slept
in my dream
last night
Day 1530, fenced off.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The darkness
underneath my road
that is
fenced of by the world
~
is only
visible
when I cross a chasm
Day 1529, who.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A white bridge
spanning a dark
~
crosses me
to a side
~
I don’t know who
I will meet
over there
within me
Day 1528, fog.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Through all the fog
I see
in the morning
~
I walk
still
to the other side
of the bridge
that I don’t see
~
but know
Day 1527, weighted
Day's pictures, Poetry
I throw out
these thin
weighted lines
~
every now
~
and than
I hope to find
a depth
that tells me
if I am climbing up
or down
Day 1526, empty space.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Nochrisis 