letters: Father

~ W. Donovan ~ Leave a comment

You’ve never been in my life, so don’t expect me to suddenly want you to be here.
Tell me again what you are for me, and I’ll open this book in which there’s no word about you.
Forgive me, but I don’t feel that I’m losing something.

© W. Donovan

What is happiness

~ W. Donovan ~ 6 Comments

What is happiness
doing things you like?
having satisfying job?
loving somebody?
What is happiness?
You say you’ll be happy
if you find your own place to live.
He says he’ll be happy
if he has the one he loves.
She says she’ll be happy
if she makes a career.
Can’t they be happy just right now?
What is happiness
the open sky
the deep ocean
the dark forest.
I don’t want to feel when it burns.
I don’t want to see any sparks.
I don’t want to hear the rhythm.
I just want to endure in that voiceless silence.
Am I happy?
I feel peace in my heart
Is that happiness?

© W. Donovan

Spike

~ W. Donovan ~ 1 Comment

You wonder why
I behave like a man.
Can’t you remember I was one before? 
You’re frightened of human feelings
in the bloodsucker’s body.
Now.
I have no other choice
than to arouse pity.
So that one dawn
I do not wake up feeling
the spike stuck in my heart,
which is insensible anyway.

© W. Donovan

Sentiments

~ W. Donovan ~ 2 Comments

I’d like you to come here
and sat on the bench next to me, with me.
I’d like to have a chat with you
even though we’ve never honestly talked.
I’d like to watch the sea waves with you
even though we’ve never done it before.
I’d like to laugh out loud with you,
even though we’ve never laughed together.
I just want to be with you, next to you
even though we’ve never really been with each other.

© W. Donovan