Poems

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Yellow and grey

 Gold and ashes

Clattering noises

 Make me alert

 I desire the gold

But find nothing than ashes

 Who told me that is gold?

 And who said the noise

 Is the rhythm of your life.

15.02.22

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I hold the sun in the universe

Spreading day across the earth

 When the night puts us asleep

 On my breast moon takes the lead

To send thirstiness into a vein

I’ll feed you with clear pure rain.

20.04.22

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This poem is coming from my novel ‘A Letter To Heaven’, chapter 4.

Black swan, black swan,

White’s heart is on run,

Don’t follow poisoned gales,

That wraps your mind in veils,

White can’t hear black’s voice,

It has made its choice,

With a twisted heart, it sinks in a river,

Where it feels no pain forever.

31.05.22


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This poem was quoted at Batley Library, Batley Poetry evening on 18/11/23

I am a song

 Not a rock,

 Sing me out,

 Don’t roll me

 Down the rock,

 I am airy,

 Not heavy,

 I won’t take space

 In your pocket.

11.06.23

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I cannot change you,

 Spare parts these

  They don’t produce

 Anymore,

 It’s better

 If I let you go

 The way you are.

08.06.23

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My life is

 A river

 With its turns

 Sharp,

 Waterfalls

 So deep

 I don’t mind

 If I fail,

 I let it

 Take me wherever

 It wants.

13.06.23

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This poem was quoted at Batley Library, Batley Poetry evening on 18/11/23

When the sun stops shining

 Above my head

 Hiding itself

 Behind mindful clouds,

 I take my heart

 In my hands

 And let it shine

 Over me.

16.06.23

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I came naked

 I can’t fake it,

 And I’ll go naked,

 I can’t take it,

 All that I have

 Is just a show

 Before I go.

18.06.23

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Rather water

 I take,

 Not your love,

 It’s too thick

 When I drink it,

 My throat

 Goes thick,

 Please,

 Dilute it,

 Otherwise

 Keep me away

 From it.

24.06.23

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I want to swim

In the cerulean sky,

They bring me memories

Of the Baltic sea,

I wish to dive

In them

And pick

All the stars

From cosmos

Blue universe

To bring them home.

26/11/23

Whispers of a tree

This poem is written for the Mayor of West Yorkshire - Tracy Bradin regarding Climate change encouraged by Friends of the Earth.

I inhale innocent clouds,

Contaminated

By human minds,

My roots grow

Into grounds

Affected

By human hands,

I twist my body

In and out,

And around,

Trying to get there,

Where I can breath

Fresh air.

30/11/23

The Voice of the Earth

This poem is written for the Mayor of West Yorkshire - Tracy Bradin regarding Climate change encouraged by Friends of the Earth.

 I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 19/02/24.

You twist my work,

My desires and wishes,

You drop poison

In my aged hands,

My mouth and face

Along my voice

Goes informed

In shadows of humans.

30.11.23

The speech of the weather

This poem is written for the Mayor of West Yorkshire - Tracy Bradin regarding Climate change encouraged by Friends of the Earth.

One day

I'll give up,

One day,

I'll have enough,

My strength becomes weaker,

I won't be able

To protect,

And that day

Will be a day

Humans will beg me

To stop.

30.11.23

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I visited Beijing on 20 December 2023. It seemed so welcoming that I wrote a poem to this beautiful city.

 I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 15/04/24.

Hello Beijing,

You greet me

With ice

In your breath,

Your loving hands

Wrapped into

Golden sun rays

Stroked my head,

Welcoming me

To run free

In your endless maze.

22/12/23

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I visited the Great Wall in China on 22nd December 2023 and decided to write a poem dedicated to it.

 I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 19/02/24.

Your winds of North

Must not love me

My dear Great Wall,

They hold me tight

In their bony hands

Leading me away

From your mother’s

Loving heart.

23/12/23

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This poem comes from my book ‘A Letter to Heaven.’ Originally written on 12.02.22. This is an edited version.

In the sky during the day

The golden sun I lay

The moon from my chest

In the night its silver light rest

I give you water from the rain

New strength for fighting thirstiness

To gain.

08/01/24

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This is a poem from my novel ‘A Letter To Heaven’, chapter 16.

 I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 19/02/24.

My clear road goes hazy

When night falls over me

The moon casts light lazy

To make sure the road I see.

I think I walk on my own

To the place I call home

But angels are looking down

Leaving me not alone.

22.01.24

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This is a poem from my novel ‘A Letter To Heaven’, Chapter 18.

 I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 15/04/24.

 

Petals from pure gold

Made by the sun

My tired hands bold

Giving me fun.

The sky of rose pink

Spreads petals golden

Making my sadness sink

Freeing me from burden.

Again I can talk

My lips covered with smile

Now I can walk

Another endless mile.

 06.02.24

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I created and read this poem in the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’  hosted by Gaia Holmes. 151 Haugh Shaw Road, Halifax/England

I tend to be

Not such blue,

But I can’t

Get rid of blue.

My mind is bright blue

Early mornings,

But it goes dark

When things get

Grumpy.

But it turns

Back bright blue

When time goes

By.

24/02/24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 24/02/24.

I read this poem at Serendipity poetry night, at Josef's K cafe, Bradford on 29/02/24.

I read it at Rhubarb Poetry night, at The Triangle pub, Shipley, Bradford, England on 27/03/34

You are so blue

Moon out there,

So many stars

Surrounding you

Up there,

But there is none

To share

With.

So many people

Gather around me,

But there is nobody

To spare

With.

25.02.24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 02/03/24.

I’ll bring you blue

My bower bird,

There won’t be reds

Or oranges to fight with,

I’ll heal your wounds

Wrapping them

Into warming

Blue words.

02/03/24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 09/03/24.

They say,

It’s a blue hour,

But is scattered

With pearls of silver and red gold,

Lined up

Into blue twisted ropes.

Endless colourful images,

Changing and lingering,

On massive canvas.

Trying to mince my brains,

Sky dark,

But glittering blue

With a damaged silver coin

On its chest,

Smoky clouds

Trying to contaminate

Its innocence,

Satellites,

Airplanes,

Spaceships

Are fighting for space

In the blue

Eternity.

09/03/24  

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 09/03/24.

Lay me into the blue sea,

Cover me with the endless sky,

Come into my dreams,

Sing me blue lullaby,

Before I fall asleep.

09/03/24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 23/03/24

My soul feels calm in this navy blue darkness

The silver moon casts its vanilla light in my dusty window.

I stare at it seeing images flashing from my past

And images from tomorrow.

Daylight scares me

It brings new troubles and worries.

I feel as if I’ll wake up on day which is gone again.

23/03/24

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I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 23/03/24

My day fades into the dusk

Becoming darker and harder

And suddenly it’s night.

I search for the vanilla stars. There is none

Tonight.

Thick indigo holds me tight.

It promises me safety.

I’m invisible now. Still terrified and alarmed

Being seen by somebody else like me.

The silver day will come.

23/03/24

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This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop in Halifax Kings Cross Library on 20/04/24

My breath comes back

Through rain and moist air.

It’s homesick

Longing to be in me

I breathe it in and out

Letting it re-enjoy adventure again.

20/04/24

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It was written at Gaia Holmes's workshop at Kings Cross Library, Halifax on 27/04/24.

I wrote it with unfinished stanzas as I learned a new way to write poems.

A few nights before I composed this poem I noticed that outside was a moon and I wrote about my experience seeing this beauty behind the hazy window.

I was awoken for no reason in the early hours

And I saw

 

Silver white moon through the frosted glass window

I opened it receiving fresh spring hair.

Every cloud has a silver lining

It’s interesting to know does the moon has one.

I try hard to open the window wider.

It resists protecting the moon from my eyes.

I observe the bleary circle.

People like to walk over your body

 

Considering seizing your treasures,

Bring them down to earth and get richer than they are.

Indeed,

 

I would do the same but with your blessing

I would treasure your gift

Placing it on the mantel.

 

That little still alien would talk to me.

We would talk about space and the earth.

 

I would show it how beautiful the earth can be.

I would it hear the TV and radio sounds,

Experience a water kettle boiling the water.

27/04/24

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The poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop at King Cross Library, Halifax. 

I walk in a glowing green forest

Listening to a story told by my grandad

 

about a fairy cat with a bag of caramel sweets wrapped in green paper

And magical dwarf who is not allowed to be bothered.

 

Take me to the blue city

Use your wings of endless love

Tell me there is never sorrow and fire

But we swim in melting sun

I want to believe in every word

Even if it’s a fairytale before I go to sleep.

This city makes me feel secure

Protected from evil spirits

Narrow steps and long steep staircases

Decorated with rainbow flowerpots

Makes this city to be alive

Taking me to the place of love.

04/05/24

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The poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop at King Cross Library, Halifax. It is written in memories about a forest behind my grandparent's home in Preikuļi/Latvia

Blueberries is a door back to the 1980’s

The sun was bursting its golden rays over my head

No clouds swimming in the indigo sky

I returned to a forest where I disappeared into the kingdom of blueberries.

I was a king and lord, I was a saver and the most adored boy

Who could free blueberry plants from heavy their loads.

11/05/24

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This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s poetry workshop at Kings Cross Library, Halifax.

I invented the blue smile

The smile you have to pay

If you want to have it

It has its bye-bye blue properties for indigo rainy days,

And you’re welcome blue emotions you want to keep them

Sky won’t be such blue as it used to be,

But it will be blue the way you wanted them to be

Framing around golden sun rays

 

Your black sadness  will blend into Oxford blue, fading into ultramarine and aqua blues

Making you feel reborn again.

Your summer night eyes will see the things

At the same colours that will be never the same again.

18/05/24