The Black Horse

The black horse Trotting in the green garden With the wilted roses With the trees whose shrivelled apples Are dangling in the windless breeze Is staring straight into my eyes With his brown pearl From which out of the blue A wet tear bursts out That much dreary is he! Poor wretched thing as they say... Without feeling a pang of guilt or pain Starving yet nor hungry Drunk by the liqueur of life Peckish and thirsty Yet satisfied by streams Hissing and winding like snakes Crawling through dark eerie woods Lilies of which are strewn all over Yet satisfied by grass Whose grasshoppers are bouncing And cavorting like madmen In straws of a silent dance party

He asks silent questions Telepathy uncannily connects the tunnels of our unspoken thoughts...

I love you But I hate you My hatred is flowing over The neck of an open rum bottle And through a chute from my mouth Shuffles down like a caterpillar Reaches chemicals in my stomach Follows the agony aunt's advice on Cooking simmering steaming stewing Love In an enormous crone's pot Love That is exploding in me Love For you so profound Love Turning me into a fanatic Into your fan from Japan Which you're handling well By the way With your blistery rough hands Fanning my blushed face Fanning your unstirred emotions When being close to one another No figment of imagination Can ever capture How swiftly I'm supplying The bucket with a drinking bout How swiftly I'm plummeting Towards the bottom of the well Tipsy Dizzy I'm shedding the leaves of bland colours I'm plunging naked into the sea Of flagrant emotional waves Ready to be sucked in Ready to succumb to you!