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Alexander Kehl Poem
A Rose for my sadness
Is all I ask
Seal it with your kiss
And your magical spark.
A Rose for my sadness
Is all I need
With a glimpse of your smile
And sound of your heartbeat.
A Rose for my sadness
Is all you can give
To aglow the flame
And rekindle the love I keep
A Rose for my sadness
Will surely make me glad
It will erase all the longings
And ease the blunt pain.
A Rose for my sadness
Will bring your touch
Shower me with warmth
Missing you that much.
Copyright © Alexander Kehl | Year Posted 2015
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Alexander Kehl Poem
Though it hurts
I think it's better
not to say goodbye
for there is finality
in this one word...
Hanging in mid-air
not knowing what is my role
looking back, asking myself
"Where did i go wrong?"
or are you suffocated of my attention?
Whatever....your actions speak it all
am not dense not to understand
I think it's better this way
no more expectations on hand
let Silence be our protective wall...
Copyright © Alexander Kehl | Year Posted 2015
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Alexander Kehl Poem
If I can just borrow one of your pens
So my own lines, would, at least, make some sense
To create rhythms that are clear, and not dense
Be able to inspire with no offense
I shall be proud when the pen's scrawling ends.
Write what brings peace to emotional tides
Words that the soul, to natures call abides
All of worldly worries, one set asides
Releasing the turmoil that one hides
As the reader through lines of a verse rides
A line in a poem to connect the minds
Though its words be fragile still hearts it binds
So as to heal the loneliness that grinds
Even far away, a soulmate one finds
With your pen I'll search for a word that winds
If you can just lend me one of your pens
So my lines would, to my friends, make some sense
And share my heart to them clear and intense
Without the mistake of making offense
I'll be fulfilled when the pen's scrawling ends.
Copyright © Alexander Kehl | Year Posted 2015
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Alexander Kehl Poem
Seasons have weathered and withered
Our love all but wilted away
But long I shall stay beside you
By this stone, here by your grave
The gates that I passed, wrought iron
The path stretched narrow though
Many, the distance, passed by
To be here now, here by you.
I sat with the blackest of raven
He says said he carried you yon
He tells of your travels further
On your grave, right here upon
Long I would sit and shall listen
Long he would lend my year
Here I would sit beside you
And I'd shed one single teardrop.
Long I shall sit till I wither
Till I all but weather away
By the hand curved headstone maker
Right here beside your grave
Decay it shall feast upon me
Till I descend back to the dust.
A firm grasp to the ghost of the once was
I shall do now what I must,
The thoughts I shall hold the dearest
Those memories I'll grasp true
Long I shall sit and then after
Right here by, right by you.
I long for that thing that I treasured
Yet nevermore will that thing now exist
Eternally here I'll be waiting
For the one that once death kissed
Tending these feelings trusted
I travel towards total demise
With this stone I shall sit beside you
And I shall dry my dying eyes.
Copyright © Alexander Kehl | Year Posted 2015
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Alexander Kehl Poem
Why don't we sit down for a while
And forget that you have him and I've someone else?
We do need a name and theme for this loss.
We have agreed on Black Wardrobe,
A dimmer lighting and a slower music.
The room has already had a certain nuance ;
That could hold us on to our place.
Other than that you've put on a dark mascara and a black hat.
I've brought along my sunglasses,
Even there has been no sun since long ago.
Everything has to be perfect,
Nobody should know or see us here.
Perhaps we'd also need a poem,
And a picture of us,
Because apparently this loss
Would also need a voice to carry on.
Otherwise it'd be easily forgotten.
We don't want that, do we?
What else?
We ask each other and then get trapped
In a long silence.
A long pause,
Where everything else seems to stop,
For a while.
But we still feel the sadness,
Close as your heartbeat and my sweat.
"Perhaps its time to go already," I said
Feeling unsure where the idea has come from.
You turn your face to me,
"We still haven't written a poem yet,
You know what?
We need flowers,
And we do not have a picture together.
A bouquet perhaps,
Roses, Azaleas, Chrysanthemums, jasmines.
You shake your head.
Only black roses,
You whisper to the thin air
And we could put it right in the middle,
Between us.
Black Roses is a good idea.
But maybe we don't need anything else,
But a stopping point for everything,
Like a platform For
Every thousands of kilometers.
The things is,
We don't know yet where,
Or When is ours.
Till then I'd stay here for a while.
Copyright © Alexander Kehl | Year Posted 2015
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Alexander Kehl Poem
Though the clouds are somehow dark;
And the wind is somehow wind;
But how can it be akin to my pain?!
For the sadness I hold is only mine -
It is but only mine.
Copyright © Alexander Kehl | Year Posted 2022
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