Giving Chances



Why do you hide under a veil?

When all you could be doing is soaring on your wings?


Why do you reach for stars,

When all you could know is you have it in you to shine?


Why age them in just peering through,

Those eyes, yours, shy like a virgin, which want to learn…


The veil, that poor see through thing,

Are you letting it, or is it really caging you, against your will?


Have they tied anklets around your feet,

In gold and silver that gleam but clang like cowbells?


Tell me of your childhood, your real one.

Did you have a ‘gudda’* then, you loved to fondle around all day?


You did, didn’t you? You loved him.

Then everything changed, when your childhood was taken from you.


You were just told, what was right and wrong,

You just winked once and your lovebirds took off into the blue.


Never you got to see them ever again,

Those mad birds, soaring high, higher than ever you’d flown your kite.


Those disobedient little creatures,

But why aren’t you happy, that they’ve left you…?


You must wonder where now they live,

Have they gone away far enough to live in some other world…?


Those two eyes, two tiny little birds,

Must be wandering among all beautiful things, which you won’t know…


Those obstinate, selfish birds, that live in dreams,

Ever wondered how they bless humanity every night? They hope for us.








tearing through the dull grey midnight

thunder comes clapping with a loud bang,

with a flashy warning sent a second ago–

usually missed by the busy people.


little girls jump and scream

hide under covers at night.

or run for their mothers’ arms,

behind shut doors, to keep it out.


but I hadn’t missed the warning,

so I dash out to hear it.

the sonic booming and the mad hale

as clouds break out in war.


taking the pleasure of the party,

of the drunk birds and dirt swirls,

I wish I had wings of wax,

to watch it from some place closer.


but later those would bring me my death,

when Apollo’s jealousy would melt the wax.

Maybe Daedalus could help me somehow,

but then he’s too is lost in his wargames.


my mortal eyes cannot see,

if it’s Zeus out there with his lightening bolt

riding his chariot, chasing the anemoi thuellai.

or it’s great Thor with his mighty Mjölnir.


I would never know for sure.

I’m content watching from afar,

hoping, hoping, hoping,

one day I’ll be among the stars.

@cyril cliffette, 2012