Poetry There are a number of poets among the Ovi team, so we have gathered the together here.
| ||Withered Age|
On the rocks
The withered age lay
And the flotsam of the sea,
| ||Another Day|
With the smallest particles of moments.
My clock spits minutes
In its assault on my life.
| ||Chant of the wild birds in my throat|
My mother never taught me things
(mostly nothings). My mother never told
me that she loved me. My mother
never spoke to me again after she
| ||Your life against mine|
You wake up at dawn,
your eyes adjust to the pale light.
I wake up in the middle of night,
| ||Touching Finality|
The faint scent of death pervades
There are ways to wave away that trace.
Present time strikes one
| ||Just Passing Through |
I think of the decades
Of people that I have know
In the streets and suburbs
Of my life.
| ||Salience |
Submerged coherently in a deluge
Deliberations delicately explosive
A torrent of semiquaver-like arguments
| ||The tall man, the thin man, the dark man, the sad man|
The sea's green eyes watch me with care.
I have to get my soul out of here, the river is here
now swallowing me whole, meta lost in translation.
| ||Will They Remember Berlin?|
Metallic and silver
Soared through the clouds
Over the city and vibrated
And hummed glinting
| ||Old Hens and Young Folks (V2)|
Why do old hens' cry-
socialize in familiar doctor offices.
The smell and the scent of times unchanged.