Poetry by Peycho Kanev
Every Day
All night the branches outside
are lonely without crows
moonlit patches of idle grass
blanket the earth
someone drinking a cup of tea
delicately lifting his pinky
without even thinking about
death.
Every day is the same
the dreams come and go
just like the curtains breath in and out
in the nights of our hazy lovemaking.
Hush
That sensation of a sliced honeymoon before
the moon comes up:
halfhearted -
darkness touches everything
that light left unsullied:
you lie inside your white shell
under the darkened spell—
this fragment of life that all men share:
your heart like a fish not dead yet
hopping
hoping
to slip out of the bony fingers –
love seems both unlovely and sterile:
until the bedside candle dies
and ships of clouds creep towards daybreak.
Peycho Kanev is the author of 12 poetry collections and three chapbooks, published in the USA and Europe. His poems have appeared in many literary magazines, such as: Rattle, Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Front Porch Review, Hawaii Review, Barrow Street, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others.
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