Ce silence étendu qui pèse sur les papillons dans la neige Enrobés de glaciers, menottés à des millions d’étincelles qui brûlent derrière des yeux fermés. Il est où, ce phare sauveur ? Il est où, le jour qui chatouille le soleil ? S’ils pouvaient seulement s’envoler, semer des étoiles dans des vagues de nuages. Mais le silence est une cage fermée à double clé. On n’y peut jamais échapper.
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(Translation)
This long silence settles on the butterflies in the snow, wrapped in glaciers, handcuffed to millions of sparks burning behind closed eyes. Where is that saving lighthouse? Where is the day that tickles the sun? If only they could fly away, scattering stars into waves of clouds. But silence is a cage that no key can open. There is never a way out.
I don’t often write in French, but now and then the words arrive in that language, and I let them stay. It’s been happening a little more often lately. This is one of those poems. I kept the French version first, with the English translation below.
💜💜💜
C’est quoi l’amour quand je m’envole au quai des anges, dans des nuages lourds de pluie, lourds de paix ?
C’est quoi l’amour ? si l’arc-en-ciel n’a qu’une ombre et que je brûle mes mains au soleil couchant ?
C’est quoi l’amour quand tu oublies d’aimer, laissant derrière toi les fantômes du passé ?
C’est quoi l’amour ? Je te demande : c’est quoi l’amour, si aucun de nous deux n’existe pour toujours ?
On se retrouvera. Une étincelle dans le noir, une chandelle fragile au vent.
C’est ça l’amour. Un rêve qui tremble à l’aube, un clin d’œil d’éternité. C’est ça l’amour.
💜💜💜
What is love?
What is love when I rise at the quay of angels, through clouds heavy with rain, heavy with peace?
What is love? if I see only the shadow of the rainbow at sunset.
What is love if you forget to love the ghosts of the past?
What is love? I ask you: what is love, if neither of us exists forever?
We will meet again, a spark in the dark, the glow of a candle.
That is love. A dream at the break of day, a glance of eternity. That is love.
We are the sharp edge of a blade, cutting into the silence where love should have been soft. You press against me, not with touch but with presence, filling the cracks I tried to seal with reason.
I have felt you in places I cannot bear to admit. You are in the hollow of my chest, in the twist of my gut, in the spaces your voice lingers longer than it should. You unravel me like a storm tearing through everything I thought was mine to hold.
I ache for the moments when you almost say it, when your words fracture just before they touch the air. It is in those broken pieces that I live, in the weight of what you hold back, and the echo of what you leave behind.
We are not fragile. We are the collision of stars, violent, burning, scorching what we cannot protect. I wear you in my silence, in the spaces where breathing falters, in the pieces of myself I no longer recognise.
If I could tear us apart, I would not. The pain of you is the only thing that feels alive. Even when you are not here, you are here, etched into my skin, heavy in my veins, pulling me into the place where only we exist.
Would you call this home, or are we the kind of fire that feeds on itself, burning bright, burning endless, until there is nothing left but smoke and memory?
I admit, I take some pride in this. It’s an achievement; at least for me it is. The prevalent theme in my poetry is love, loss, mental health, relationships… Always a bit on the melancholy side of things, but I like to think quite emotive and relatable too.
So here is a little reminder of the books I published:
Unquiet Minds
Unquiet Minds was my first ever published book with my own full name as the author. It was an amazing feeling to hold this little poetry collection in my hands. Just the thought that this was something I had created, completely on my own. Every word written in this book, every editing mistake, I did it all. And I also took this absolutely awesome cover pic myself. It is a heavily edited soap bubble. Yes, that’s right. It’s no drawing and nothing mysterious. Just a soap bubble in the sky.
Drowning in a Sea of Voices
This one was published almost a year after the first. On the cover is me. Oh, don’t let me fool you, contrary to what you may think, my name and my face on a book was terrifying. Even more so knowing that I took that particular selfie in the bathtub. I am demystifying every mystery about the covers of my books in this post. Anyway, it is another little poetry collection; and again, I did everything on my own. I had asked online for a bit of help, but no one offered (I even offered to pay). I kind of like the cover of this book. Dark. Then again, that seems to be something my book covers have in common.
Heart of Stone
Now this was something else, something that still makes my heart swell with pride. Heart of Stone is a novel that I had written and posted on a site called Wattpad. But, it never felt quite finished; the characters never really left my mind, and so, one night I sat down to rewrite and edit the entire story. Chapters were added, characters were dropped or added and overall, the story came out more polished and more rounded than it was before. Now, the subject is not for everyone, in fact it is quite niche. It’s a love story. Romance. It’s a story about two men meeting at the right moment in time, when everything around them seems to shatter and they are the ones who can make the other whole again. Mental health (anxiety attacks) are a subject explored in this book too. I would say it is not cliché, but maybe I am the wrong person to judge. Riley Stone and Emerson Heart are probably the most developed characters I ever wrote. (Of course, as always, the editing and the cover were done by myself. This time I had actually found a beta-reader who gladly took the money but never got back to me with any tips or editing. I doubt they even read the manuscript… water under the bridge now) The cover is of a stone shaped like a heart, I saw it years before this story even took shape in my mind but suddenly, it all made sense. Heart of Stone.
A Life in Frames
With this release, I wanted to show off my writing skills, as boastful as it sounds. Many short stories (flash fiction) I wrote can be found in that book. It felt a bit like wrapping up things. I had published poetry, a novel, and now this anthology. I wasn’t sure if there was more writing in me, but there always is. Creativity is a well that rarely dries up, it’s just that the mind sometimes holds us back and tries to make us feel like failures. I can wholeheartedly recommend A Life in Frames though. It’s a good little book. Good writing. (As before, all done on my own, hehe – do you see a pattern there? The cover photo is a light bulb in the dark)
Out of the Dark and into the Light
This one should be called “the book that doesn’t exist” I barely advertised this one and only sold a handful of copies. I am not sure why it was difficult to get this poetry collection going. I suspect it was me leaving Facebook that made this advertising thing harder than it should have been. But I also admit, I barely remember anything about the process of writing the poems for this one or how and why the cover is the way it is. And to my dismay, I have to say, I don’t even own a printed copy of this either. (Cover pic – light in a hallway, and editing done by yours truly)
Perfect Imperfection
With this book, I had some help. The cover picture and the title were suggested by a good friend of mine – a creative person too. After reading a couple of poems from the manuscript of this book, the friend came up with the title – there’s a poem of the same name in this collection. Perfect Imperfection was also the first more official release. Or it felt that way. It was published with a local ISBN and was the first that could be found in the Luxembourgish National Library, that’s why, on Amazon, it says published by Bibliothèque Nationale de Luxembourg. It’s the book that made me a bit more visible nationally. I like this one, but maybe that’s because of everything that happened after the release of the book (referring to the visibility that I mentioned before)
Word Thief
To date, this is my last publication. It was released on my 40th birthday. In this book, you can find most of the poems that can be found in the other poetry collections too and then some. As you can see, it’s me again on the cover. Again it was a suggestion by my friend I mentioned above. The name Word Thief came about when I noticed that I do borrow words sometimes. No, no plagiarism, but I often use songs as inspiration when writing and I end up using words I heard in the songs I listened to recently. I am not sure if that makes sense. For Word Thief, I had a couple more polished angles to advertise; like the two songs Daniel Cavanagh recorded for me and put on his soundcloud site for instance. I was a bit disappointed at first that this book didn’t do as well as I expected it to do. Was it the price? Was I overestimating myself? All of the above? If you are a creator you probably know the feeling of feeling very strongly about your latest project only for it to fall on deaf ears. That’s what happened here. I tried many things to make it work but in the end I understood that I am just a grain of sand on this earth. I have no impact, no outside voice that matters. All I have is the passion to write and to keep doing what I started doing in 2012. The fact that I am not writing in my native language is something that adds to my insecurities sometimes, but then again, I couldn’t write as emotionally in my own language. It doesn’t sound the same. Anyway, I have many copies left at home of this one, mainly because of a printing error. There were white pages in the books that should not have been there – and for once it was not my fault, it happened at the press. I personalised every one of those copies with a little drawing (I am very bad at that) or/and a little note.
Fire & Rain
Fire&Rain is the latest addition in my self-publishing journey. It has been released on July 12th 2024 and marks the 8th book that was released with my own name on the cover. (The 6th poetry collection.) I am very proud of this book because I think it has some of the strongest poetry I’ve written to date. So far, there is no feedback about it but I will keep you updated. There are a couple of ideas on how to make Fire&Rain the wholesome release WORD THIEF was, but it is all still in the early stages. Fire&Rain is definitely worth a read if you are a poetry lover.
The Weight of Light
The Weight of Light is a collection of poems that balances raw emotion with quiet reflection. It explores the contrasts we live with: light and dark, love and loss, presence and absence. Each poem invites the reader into moments of gaslighting vulnerability, offering glimpses of the strength hidden in stillness. With simple, honest words, it speaks of connection, identity, and the way small moments can carry unexpected meaning.
For those seeking solace, connection, or simply a moment to pause, The Weight of Light offers a space to feel, reflect, and find light even when it feels heavy.
The August Current
The August Current is my tenth book of poems, and perhaps the most unexpected of them all. I hadn’t planned to release anything new this year, but in late July a sudden wave of words swept through me. In less than a week, ninety poems filled my notebooks—written in sleepless nights, carried by a current I couldn’t resist. This collection is different. Alongside the typed poems, I’ve included photographs of some of the handwritten originals. Ink smudges, crooked lines, crossings-out—all left as they were. They capture the poems in their first breath, raw and unpolished, with a truth that polished pages often lose. What makes The August Current special is that it wasn’t meant to exist, and yet it insisted. It carries storms and stillness, shadows and light, fragments of longing and release. For me, it stands as proof that sometimes the work chooses the writer, and not the other way around. Available as Kindle and paperback. Signed copies can be ordered directly from me.
Every one of those books is available on amazon worldwide, or with me – from this blog. I ship worldwide too with no additional fees.
I thank you for being here and maybe browsing this place a bit. I know, the sheer amount of written words on this blog can be a bit overwhelming but, if you like music, poetry, short stories or even some photography, I am sure there is something for you here.
I walked in silence, where noise roared loud, Through crowded streets that echoed empty. A warmth that chilled, a smile that hid, In eyes that spoke what hearts disowned gently.
I chased the sun beneath the rain, Held fleeting moments as they slipped away. What was whole felt broken, what was lost remained, In every word we dared not say.
Where whispers shouted and stillness hummed, Where peace became a restless fight, I found the truth within the lie, And wandered lost in blinding light.
In shadows bright and darkness clear, Where wrong felt right, and far drew near. I stood between the pull and push, A heart that emptied—yet brimmed with rush.
Now the storm has passed, the echoes fade, The sun I chased now warms my skin. I stand between the dark and light, Not torn, but whole, where I begin.
Last month, I had the idea to walk down memory lane with the blog. After many years of sharing thoughts and poetry and everything in between, I wanted to compile a sort of best of, but that’s not as easy as I thought it would be. I am a harsh critic when it comes to my own creations. But last month’s post sparked the idea of doing this every month from now on. So here goes…
One post from the month of September since the beginning of the blog. Please enjoy and don’t spare the feedback.
Just like last month, I am surprised by the amount of poetry I wrote over the years. But I also noticed that September is always a time for change, a time for reflection. September 2015 is a month that changed my life, even though it might not be visible at first glance, after that month, my writing changed a lot. Things happened that month, and without them, I would not be here today, I would not be who I am, and I would not have thought about getting a job either. September 2015 was one of the most important months of my adult life. And yet, not much of that was shared on the blog. The reasons stayed and will always stay privat.
Just like in August, there is a little bit of everything: music, short stories, musings, personal stuff, and of course, poetry. All of the above posts, all 11 of them are worth your attention. You’ll see how much I’ve changed and how much I’ve stayed the same
Take a look and don’t be shy to comment. You will notice that I am not spoiled with comments.
And if you want to know more about me and where to find me, this post is for you
We held tight to the shadows of who we were, gripping the edges of old names, as if they might still fit— the comfort of an identity frayed, threads loosening with each step we take forward.
We whispered those stories, didn’t we? Hoping they would echo back as truth, like a song stuck in our memory, a tune we had outgrown but couldn’t bear to forget.
But mirrors don’t keep secrets. In the quiet reflection, we see ourselves— versions shedding skin, each layer slipping like a season that’s come and gone. What once was, now just a ghost of the person we thought we’d be.
To become who we are, we had to let the past unclasp its grip, let it fall like leaves surrendering to the wind, not with bitterness, but with quiet grace. No regret, just the gentle release of what no longer serves us.
And in this shedding, we find space— empty but full of promise, ready to hold the weight of now, not weighed down by the stories behind us. Here, in the unknown, we begin again, not with who we were, but with all that we’ve yet to become.
In the quiet pull of dawn, the sun lifts once more—familiar, yet new. Every rise, a shift unseen, as light touches what it never has before.
The river sings its ancient song, but every bend carries time anew. Water once passed now lost, now found, as currents learn the art of change.
A leaf falls with the same soft whisper, yet the ground it meets has grown. The tree still stands, its roots deep, but its branches stretch a little farther.
Each breath we take, a rhythm we know, yet the air shifts as it fills us. We are the pulse of moments lived again— not circles, but spirals, turning, rising.
Repetition is not stillness, it is the heartbeat of becoming. In each return, we find ourselves becoming what we were never meant to stay.
It doesn’t matter where you drown, you are still drowning. In the sand, where dreams are buried, grains shifting like the weight of regrets, a desert of silence, suffocating— you sink, you grasp, but the dust consumes.
In the clouds, where hopes are hung, the sky once blue, now heavy with storms, each drop a memory, too thick to breathe— you drift, you fall, but the mist encloses, wrapping your soul in vaporous despair.
In the sea, where love once thrived, waves that kissed now pull you under, salt stings your lips, your eyes, your heart— you thrash, you scream, but the depths call softly, seducing you into their cold, dark embrace.
In my eyes, where you thought you’d be safe, oceans glistened with promises unspoken, but those same waters can drown you whole— you look, you see, but you can’t escape, the currents of sorrow pulling you down.
It doesn’t matter where you drown, you are still drowning. In the sand, in the clouds, in the sea, in my eyes— everywhere you go, the weight follows, the undertow of what we cannot change, dragging us down to where light cannot reach.
I am yours, now and forevermore, My soul entwined with yours like a river, Flowing together, a boundless shore, Destined to be one, forever.
Your heart, my heart, a single beat, Pulsing with a love so pure and true, In your embrace, my world complete, A love that transcends time and renew.
I am yours, a promise etched in stone, A sacred vow that binds us, unbroken, Through life's ebbs and flows, we stand alone, Our love, a flame that can never be spoken.
Forevermore, my soul is yours to keep, Intertwined, a tapestry of grace, In your arms, I find solace so deep, A love that knows no bounds, no place.
With my heart in flames, I watch them burn, The dreams we shared, my soul’s concern, Consumed by the blaze, their embers fade, As I try to forget your eyes’ embrace – betrayed.
The fire rages, a desperate plea, To erase the memory of your love for me, But in the ashes, your gaze still lingers, Taunting, tempting, like a lover’s fingers.
I tried to douse the yearning in my chest, To free myself from this torturous quest, Yet the smoke still rises, a siren’s call, Reminding me almost of a love I can’t recall.
In the end, the flames have run their course, Leaving me bereft, without remorse, For I know, no matter how hard I try, Your eyes will forever haunt this soul of mine.
Time's cruel march, a relentless thief, Steals the faces I once knew, Trapped within these frozen frames, Their essence fades, no longer true.
The smiles that once so brightly shone, Dim with the weight of years gone by, Expressions frozen, a facade, Concealing truths that make me sigh.
These photographs, a cruel charade, Trapping souls in a timeless game, The faces that I cherished so, Are not the same, no longer the same.
I yearn to reach beyond the glass, To touch the lives that once were mine, But time's relentless, ceaseless flow, Has left these faces, no longer here in time.
How I wish I could rewind, And hold those moments, pure and bright, But, they are trapped, beyond my grasp, Frozen in time, a fading light.
With fervent heart and yearning soul, I gaze upon the heavens above, Captivated by their radiant whole, Drawn to the stars I so deeply love.
No limits shall hold me back, No doubts shall cloud my vision true, For I am driven, I will not lack, The courage to reach for the stars anew.
These celestial wonders, they beckon me, Igniting a fire within my breast, To soar beyond the earthly sea, And claim my place among the best.
I’ll climb the heights, defy the odds, Undaunted by the challenges that loom, For I am destined to touch the gods, And bask in the stars’ eternal bloom.
So let the world watch and behold, As I ascend to realms unknown, For the stars, they shall soon unfold, The dreams that in my heart have grown.
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The above photo inspired this very spontaneous poem. I took that picture with my phone (moto g72) tonight. I didn’t know it could do that and I am absolutely amazed and blown away. Once I figured out about how to change the long exposure, I activated the self timer and put the phone on a table. This is the result. I am sure your phone can do the same (and maybe even better). I will explore more in the coming days.
In the void, where shadows reign, I scrawl my words, a desperate refrain, Painting the walls with thoughts so frail, Yearning to make the darkness pale.
These meaningless words, a feeble light, Flicker and dance, a futile fight, Against the looming, haunting gloom, That threatens to swallow, to consume.
A glimmer shines, A hope that defines, The power to confront the night’s embrace, And walk this path, a safe haven to grace.
Though the shadows may never fully depart, This wall, my walls surround my beating heart, Where I pour my soul, my fears, my pain, To make the dark less daunting, less insane.
For in these words, a battle is waged, It keeps my spirit, undissuaded, unaged, Refusing to succumb to the void’s decree, Finding strength in the act of being free.
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i am at that stage again where I can’t sleep. I am tired, I just want to sleep
reflections of an unquiet mind 