Lost and Found

Synergy

chatte.bleu — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 16:23:12 +0000

Love soundly knocked on my door
Standing there straight and brisk
I froze still in shock
Afraid he might get cranky about the bedroom mess
That he’d tell me to make room in the closet
And shift my neurosis around the kitchen drawer

The peephole my magnifying glass
I examined Love from head to toes
Cringing at the reflection of my expectations
Skeptically I slid the list of my sins through the gap
Love read it
Then he did the shopping and fixed me dinner

You watch me walk to make me dance
And catch me when I stumble to avoid the fall
You weave my words into meaningful silences
Turning my husky voice into the softest of songs
Let the cats sleep
I’ll serve you my secrets on a silver moon plate

and this one is for you, because you know… the chocolate contest

chatte.bleu — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 21:15:43 +0000

Words…

affect bewilder connect

dazzle excite frighten

holler initiate juxtapose

knock lure mark

numb overwhelm protect

rejoice suffice tear

unite weaken x-ray

yammer zip… Words

Speak softer than actions?

I fall asleep entangled

wrapped in your black-on-white

pixel-on-screen whisper

Will you wake me up with deeds?

Newspaper Ad

chatte.bleu — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 23:27:28 +0000

looking for someone to take my Lonely out

give her a bowl of warmth

and a small corner to curl up and sleep

not demanding

she will walk on her leash

obediently following your steps

on windy nights she wakes up

and howls

conditions to be discussed

call 06-…………………….

Jezebel’s Wedding

chatte.bleu — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 14:13:15 +0000

I weave my wedding dress

out of brief encounters

its translucency tearing

with every new thread

each until death do us part

lasts till the light of dawn

reveals naked truth glaring

with the eyes of a stranger

what the night ensnares

the morning tears apart

Unbridled?

chatte.bleu — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 22:41:27 +0000

A trace of a man’s touch on her body

she rinses with a shower hose

she is NOT falling in love

because you cannot cleanse the soul.

She wants her friends’ love

pure and simple as daily bread;

wild gusts of heart are not for her.

She craves for fingerprints on her breasts;

inside the ribcage beats a heart

that wishes to remain unstained.

To quench lust streaming between her legs

she looks for instant satisfaction of a stranger’s hands;

she is NOT falling in love again.

Photo by Karo

…

chatte.bleu — Thu, 02 Jun 2011 21:26:04 +0000

Today my thoughts are with

all the poems miscarried

due to an absence of a pen.

Without me

chatte.bleu — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 21:42:11 +0000

your world will be poorer

with all the words I won’t vocalize

my head overflown with pictures

you won’t see with my eyes

their weight makes my eyelids heavy

This Spring

chatte.bleu — Fri, 27 May 2011 22:03:48 +0000

My heart has put the sneakers on and gone for a walk.

Hands in the pockets, she’s whistling a merry tune

while kicking an empty cola can.

My heart is gone.

She’s out for a walk through the quiet streets

of the city shimmering in evening lights.

My heart is not here, she’s gone for a stroll.

Photo by Karo

If I have to be honest with myself

chatte.bleu — Fri, 06 May 2011 23:51:33 +0000

Heartbreak is something you have to work your way through day by day. Such a cliché; I’m not discovering new America here, I know. Sleepless nights, sudden pangs of pain, flashbacks… Staring at the empty couch and seeing the two of us curled up on it together. On my own filling the space that used to be divided in two. It’s as if my tooth had been extracted and I was waiting for the hole to heal up, every now and then touching the empty place with the tip of the tongue. It’s a bit subtler this time. I’m not plotting least painful suicide methods, not crying my eyes out every night either. Funny… come to think of it, I almost didn’t cry after you left me. Neither am I writing poems full of longing, which is a bit of a shame. Torn hearts usually feed the pen. It’s subtle and quiet this time. Does experience damp the heartache? I’m not sure. I’m coping really well, I’m thinking, patting myself on the shoulder. But amongst all that coping-well-patting-on-the-shoulder I do miss you. I wish you had stayed.

Photo by Karo (aka chattebleu)

facebook (or last one for R)

chatte.bleu — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 16:08:30 +0000

42 mutual friends

4 common likes

21 shared photos

the facebook sum of our two years

now we wake up in unknown places

to new faces

again