Peter Wyss - All my Howling Days are Quiet

Peter Wyss

Copyright © 2019 Peter Wyss

Cover art by Bjørg-Elise Tuppen

I am

your diet

You are

my excess

I surrender

to your

bleak beauty

your gravity

tears my

heart apart

The moonlight

is a language

written on the

thin paper of

the night

for all the words

reason will never

grasp

Moonlit mushrooms

convey significance

like silver letters

growing in the night

It was full moon in her again

and she touched him with

phosphorizing light

The moon was

in her eyes

and he couldn't

look away

I keep forgetting things

but I will never forget when

you leaned your bleak light

over me and showed me your

dark side

Nothing disappears

everything is replaced

even you

that's what the moon

told me

What made her

so beautiful

was the presence

of the moon

I thought you wouldn't come

along but you did

we went deep into

the night

through all the landscapes

of whom we once were

just to see the moonlight

shiver in the grass

and whisper silver

words

I wonder

does the moon

touch you as gently

as it touches

the morning dew

or does it stab

your heart

from behind

Lost souls

long to be

found

Found souls

long to be

lost

The landscapes

of longing

are puzzles

which I cannot

solve

The grass whispers

to my feet

the leaves sing

to my hands

lost again

in autumn

It seems

I have been walking too long

without making a single step

forward

My wishes

are tired

my feet

hurt

twilight

approaches

Somewhere

along the way

I lost myself

I wonder if

this self

is looking

for me

Life blooms

so wildly

outside

your fence

I see the silence

of the sea in the eyes

of every fish which gazes

upon me in terror and fright

My mind wandering

over the surface of

the sea trying to find

the entrance

Blue

as a blue fish

in the blue waters

below the deep blue sky

is my mood

In the depth

of a bottle of scotch

the most curious fish

swim

Unliked, unfollowed

unfriended, lost in

the terrifying abyss

of non-existence

Being an influencer

reduced me to an image

of someone I never was

my eternal fame based

on videos that vanish

within a day

First I followed

myself in secret

then I blocked

myself

in the end I was

found by everybody

but me

I lived two lifes

one digital, one real

and I believed there

were two of me until

I realized I was either

digitally real or

really digitalized

I was a ghost

followed by ghosts

in a ghost world

Hope is

the fragility

of the evening

Hope is

a terrible illness

hope is

a fantastic cure

Hope is

a fish on fire

deep down

in the ocean

Hope is

a swim

in the desert

Hope is

to be blessed with a curse

hope is

to be cursed with a blessing

Hope is

you when

despair

is me

Hope is

what makes you get up

when you live all alone

at the end of the world

and think all hope is lost

Hope is

when

indifference

cries

tears

of joy

Hope is

a blackbird singing

so deep into night

that the dreams

stop and listen

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