"Days" and "The Garden"

by Peycho Kanev

Days

There are a lot of them when I can't 
even say your name
then I lay down in a heap of heavy sighs
and the night presses me under itself like 
a lonely widow dressed in black
and she carries me in her arms to 
the days to come
filled with fresh air and intoxication
where even the clouds weep uncontrollably 
for shameful losses
and where the only hope lies in the 
utterance of your name
 
infinitely

 

 

The Garden

Pain is this ill-lit place full of white hope
with many broken clocks on the walls 
and torn calendars
 
It is filled with inexplicable noises and 
names
 
what it gives me I can't give it back
what I receive I keep it in myself
who I am is never the same
 
but I keep telling myself that pain is a good thing
and that its fruits are always ripe
 
We pick them up at any time 
in our dreams

Add comment

Peycho Kanev

Peycho Kanev is the author of 12 poetry collections and three chapbooks, published in the USA and Europe. His poems have appeared in many literary magazines, such as: Rattle, Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Front Porch Review, Hawaii Review, Barrow Street, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others.