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Poems by marcello


Blossoms portraying their dress,
a kaleidoscope of colours.
All leaves displaying a virgin green
silky to the touch of sunlight.

Hark the awakening of sounds!
The gentle humming of bumble-bees,
birds singing a magnificent chorus,
a multitude of sonnets to the sky.

Creatures bathing in the golden rays,
newborn-ones nuzzling the warmth.
Sweet smells filling the pure air,
erasing the harshness of winter.

Replacing those endless days
of cold darkness and longing
with soft touches and mild melodies.
Heralding pleasure to all senses.


Pondering upon life
I stumble across death
and the meaning of existence.

What pursuits lead our minds
to a labyrinth of philosophies
and unanswered questions.

Pondering upon death
I enthuse over the sense of life
and its brief visit.

What provokes us to hesitate
when the hourglass turns to
lead us into the light of perfection.

Pondering upon after-life
I personify fear
of the unexpected, the unknown.

What lies beyond the day of judgement,
overshadowing our thoughts and deeds
feeding on our very conscience.

Pondering upon time
I bless every day
like a precious gift of love.

The End is reaching us in great strides
hastening us to taste every moment
spent in idle complacency.

Pondering upon today
I embrace the world
with outstretched longing arms.

"Blood smeared sky"

Flaming, Fiery, Ferocious
tinted with a painter's brush
from the crimson liquid
Real, Raving, Red.

A world blotched with hate
Despair, Dread, Death.
Tumbling into infinity to seek
Hope, Humanity, Heaven.

A flicker of pale blue
amidst the burning sky.
Blood dripping slowly
Cascading, Cradling, Ceasing.


Time, precious as a ruby
glittering in vast wealth.

Time, a nourishment for love
exquisite and tasty to the palate.

Time, taken and given
like a merchandise of friendship.

Time, a lonely companion
for all those hurried souls.

Time, a detriment to beauty
devouring youth and lustre.

Time, a reward for life's labours
manifested at the end of the day.

Time, a gift more valuable
than all the riches of this world.

"Evening Walk"

Forest floor soft to my tread,
bare feet bathing in moss
smelling of warm humus.

Eerie evening light sending
golden rays through the leaves.
A spectacle of dancing beams.

Towering trees majestic to my eye
throwing shadows across the path.
A flicker of ghostlike forms.

Enchanting elves scurrying along,
peeping out from secret places.
Eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Nimble nymphs with wavy hair,
splash joyously through the water.
Carefree in their wild nature.

Scented smells filling my lungs,
soothing sounds reaching my ears.
While peace slowly rests on my soul.

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Biographical sketch: Name: Rynya Pockrandt
Born on 16th of April 1971 in West-Germany
1980 - 1993: lived in County Wicklow, Irelan
1988 - 1993: studied Economics at Trinity University in Dublin (Ireland) - Masters' Degree
1993 - 2000: lived in Munich, Germany working in IT-sector
2000 -: live in Darmstadt working in IT-sector
April 2000: published my first poetry book "Deep Sounds - Tiefe Klšnge"

marcello recommends:

Collected Poems by W.B. Yeats

Reason: This anthology of Yeats's work encompasses his 14 books of lyrical poems, as well as his
narrative and dramatic poetry. It covers his early symbolist period and the complex, visionary work of his later years.
What makes it extraordinary? I think all I can say is that I adore Yeats' work, he is magnificent and I learned to love his poems at an early age in school in Ireland.

Recommendations for writers:

- Let the words fall freely from your mind onto the page with not too much pondering.
- Use the skills of poetry writing - onomatopoeia etc.


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