An Anxious Aspie's Interpretation & Decoration of Poetical Ideas, Messages, Information and Resources.

Posts tagged ‘personal’

Through the windowpane

The sound of rain


this is the sound of time


every drop of rain is love

sprinkling on the soil

quietly as love

the night sky

so impossibly high

stars are twinkling



a poem

an emotion

a sleepless thought.


I think

It has everything to do

With you

You come from profoundness, vastness

Let me

Use the simplest language

To reveal the meaning in this

You are

A flower, a dream

A nebula, a sea

Computer-like programming

always conjures up a brilliant starry sky

You are subtle, gentle

You give rise to enthusiasm

You give softness to springtime

You make the night quiver

You are

Like a quiet floaty swallow

Flies through the drizzle

Outside the window

You turn around like time

Making the tide of thoughts

Evermore avant garde and high

Breaking the gossamer trammels

You are no longer a dubious converse

Just right

You are like

A splendid smile

Right before my eyes.


A walk on the beach

Nightfall is quiet

breeze is light

the vast sky stained with blue and gray

peace is far-reaching

not much clouds

nor stars

i look up and count

only three

and also a flying aircraft

crossing the sky

passing those stars

ocean is calm

just a ripplet in sight

distant high-rise neon

reflected on the water

phantom of the ocean

billows in the wind

padestrians on the coast


no babel of the day

sound waves seem to be

shrouded in duskiness.




A silver night

Tonight there’s gonna be
a silver dream
like the pigeons unfolding their wings
like a lotus rising from the shadow of water
the leaves are
like ceramic glaze
flowing toward the sound of autumn
on the roof
the silvery waves of moon
have condensed into exquisite ice
the longitudinal dream
like a boat in a tailwind
sailing toward the frozen night.


Love the sun,

love the sky,

listening to the joy,

of birds in love,

receiving a letter,

from the distant clouds,


Small town

Small town,

on this starry night,

the playback of old times on vinyl,

small town had our dreams,

osiers standing silently,

along the causeway,


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