Autumn

The passion is getting old
....like october trees are...
is losing leaves
shining thousands of yellows
millions of reds
I'm getting old in you, cosy
the only one native resident
I speak your native language
and grow the naitive leaves
Olding together
growing tattared branches
I wear my habbits out
You're wearing mine all time
Imaginary trip
in the autumn leaves
before the snow falls
covers us both

apple embryo

:-/

The good Godmothers
are baking blueberry cakes
hurrying to job every mornig
They buy toys, dolls, speeding cars
let you smoke your first cigarette
sometimes They grow red hair
write poems, drink bubbled gin
for breakfast champagne
and They're hardly ever there...

cold morning

It's getting cold
in the morning
my lips turned blue
I'm still waiting a little bit dizzy
waiting for my bus
...for someone to come
It's getting cold in the morning
this time of the year
but my dresses..
they are getting red
It's getting cold
in the morning
this time of the year
my lips turned blue once again
no one would fit
in this blueness
it fits just me
so early in the morning
I'll drive away..
forgot that someone had to come
I'll start to drive

I Love Autumn

it's getting cherriesh again
it's getting colder, darker
it's getting nighty dusty
tea-time is coming again
it's getting cloudy, smoky
it's getting berry-red
it's getting misty, mysterious
orange spice foggy cups
and cigarettes
it's getting longingly
amber waves are flooding my head
golden leaves and purple scarfs
grey, naked branches, green gloves
my room smells like honey
it's cosy, cuddly, dimmed
once again...it's getting yelowish red