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My poems


Hopes and fears of the unknown



Silence. So quite in the calm of the sounds around me.

It’s been a long time

In the midst of cold and unfulfilled promises

silence takes new dimensions

Extreme dimensions of darkness and light

And the faces that I know become the saving grace of tomorrow.


So much to look forward to

So much to care for

And so many people to meet and greet

Time goes by and the shadows hide in the corners of my room.


Paths that lead to doors with great promises and fears

Where will this journey end?



Theo. 22.8.2014


Silence in a busy world of sound and wants

so many nos to maybes

love that speaks and yet so quiet

but there is so much time to live for each other.


Love and loneliness redefined

friendship in the paths of nothingness

unexpected dreams in a world far away.


Don't talk to me about love

theories of warm nights by the sea

Live the fights, sleepless nights of pain and endurance

First steps difficult.


I said I was going to lose.

but there is so much time to live for each other.


Theo, 31.8.12.

The room


I know this room so well.

Cream walls, a clock on the wall and the furniture carefully arranged,

next to the window the bed filled with memories of endless love.


My wants, fickle wishes of a fool,

flashing images from an old film noir, forgotten, stored away for later.

But it is already gathering dust

so much dust, blinds the way.

And it is such a clear way. An obvious way.


I know this room so well.

The clock is never silent,

always reminding me the moments of the past,

already covered with dust, already put away.


The room, a vessle of the wishes of the love that would have been,

wishes of a fool, dusty old films, forgotten, stored away.


Now all I have is the room.


Theo, 11.1.10

Storm’s calmness


I am thinking about not long ago ... so long ago

Senses of a distant perfume, and yet so close.

Whispers in my ear of uncertain memories, doubtful memories

wishful reality that was not meant to be

staged for the big finale with no ending.


But the storm is almost over now,

and the mist is almost clear

you can see people going about their business

some walking fast, some running,

some staying idle staring at the dreams that were not meant to be

the kind of dreams that I no longer desire

the dreams that keep me awake.


But the night is over now, the morning light, and

storm’s calmness.


Theo, 07.02.2010.



Dark and humid is this night

and in the stillness of the quiet

 shadows are passing by, making ugly noises of the past

disturbing the truthfulness of the now, of this very moment.


Late is the hour and yet the shadows remain.

Will they ever go? Life with the shadows is no life at all;

the shadows are cruel and distant, full of memories and pain

they have forgotten the meaning of happiness and colour; they are dark;

they have forgotten the love they used to have, the love they so eagerly swore with their existence.


Shadows of broken promises

weak shadows of unfulfilled love; empty love;

late is the hour and humid is the night

and the shadows linger in the dark desperate places of my mind.


I can sense the morning approaching

and the light will show the hidden corners that the night so cleverly concealed.

There is no place for shadows in the morning light.

tired eyes and the body broken, but nothing matters

as I sense the morning approaching


Theo, 31 May 2010



The night is jealous of your bright light

Your own dance perform in an ever lasting photo

Old frame but the picture endures

It endures like my memories

And the world revolves around them

A picture of dream that the day can put out

And you leave your scars behind



Looking for love in the highway

Cars passing by

People lost on their way to far away places

Running fast but with nowhere to go.



Theo 31.8.2012



Cold night. Three in the morning

noises outside my window, keeping me awake

people having a good time.

But I remain still in my even colder room filled with memories of unresolved love.

Unjustified life. Endless love. So much of it.


And the night turns to light, the cold to warmth and I am awake.

I met the sweetest face, the calmest face, my dream.


Aren’t dreams meant to be of a different world?

What are you doing here dream?

Why are you here to warm my cold nights?


Love justified, love returned, love unqualified. Come what may.


But what are these noises disturbing my dream?

Noises of our daily life

people passing by, tasks to be served, expectations to be met.


And then the night turned cold again

no warmth in my arms and the kiss distant.


Are dreams meant to be of a different world?


Dream come back to me.


Dream come back to me.


Dreams are of this world.  


Theo, 1/1/2010




I could hear the birds from outside and the foot steps of two men walking by my window

two men, one path and a sense of completion.


Shallow commitments of a fickle mind,

of a selfish mind,

false hopes of a fool man.

Deception and apologies – and the hurt so deep.

The sweetest lie, the biggest lie.


Lies are no more and the curtains are down

In the theatrical story of a not so magical journey

Bad actors, and the taste bitter.

Completion and the lies are no more.


Theo, 23.01.2010.


The house


So many lights in this house

and the many rooms filled with people, businessmen and politicians, activists and friends

a celebration of some sort

so many achievements

one celebration, one life.


But in the middle, a large room, the largest in the house, dark

no lights, no people, cold and forgotten

and the stale smell of memories of old

so much dust, covering the expensive glass from Venice, the leather bag from Florence and the cloths from Rome,

so much dust covering everything.

No one knows what is in this room

but everyone wonders.


One celebration, one life

busy people going in and out the house

but the lights in the large room are off

until the celebration is no more and the house is quiet again

no life, no celebration, no lights.


Theo, 17.01.2010.


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