FRED SCHYWEK - fs@directbox.net
Does a poet need
the stars to
navigate
his night
flight

does a dream
need
a black moon
to escape
from a box
in the morning
*
FS POETRY

Sun night iced over
the wind comes
from there

In the sign of the scar

In dark night a abyss deep angry man
today he didn’t dream anymore today
the lion appeared for him

the girl knew not
at that time how it is
to be
loved
I GO AWAY coward
dirty swine children
fornicator you had
my body
but never
you had me in the dead forest

Fear and it is with the others
wound scar silence of the sea

What there only helped is the
feeling of love. This energy
behind the shadow silhouette
she held on to that and it would be
like this her whole life

It is the sound of piano
in a large room. The running
on the forest path in the shining sun
with a song on her lips

She dove deep till nobody could
follow her anymore. She was there
alone and safe. That she did cultivate.
She became a master of illusion

The smells were her drive
the clean this turning inward
from the mud with its stones
which later didn’t pull anymore
after the smile after the small
stone in the cleansing stream

Feelings not reciprocated by the star
hopeless longings
far distances can bring one
in a sad difficult situation

Angel care
takes up your worries
and sees to it, that you
receive everything you need
in your predicament

The water streamed on
it was a black attack
die and become, the shadow
became new and pretty
the horizon glowed in the youngest morn
the storm became hurricane
they were turned inward
it was warm
the feelings chrystal

Appeared the woman in the
Golden dress. She smiled
said she had arrived well
she needn’t worry anymore
She is well
She opens herself to the experience of
passion of deep profound love.

             Click. Silence. Still so.


*
Back to white

Silver sun cries in the cellar
deserves this silent night

the point of tears
a crow gobbles up vomit
of the past night
I thought I am not
this hell of jetlag

where you born
with the oh so eternal blues

shake me
the point of tears me
the past night

don’t call me Jesus
expecting the stars
of everlasting love

And all that these passengers
drunk
in a depression

Am I happy
I die over the spheres go

disappear with Ka

*

I know

I know
it means being sad
Stories from older times
does it all still make sense

The fire is hot and flickers
as wild as a young Rhein
the deep valley shudders
in the sunshine of eyes

the wise old lady
here down at the bar
her golden hair
in the comb in a song


FRED SCHYWEK

TRANSLATIONS  Annmarie Sauer and Fred Schywek
from Parallel illumination (2011-2018)
copyright 2018

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