Poems for seekers, thinkers, and reflective minds
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Poems
Impressum
Quiet Rebellion
Get the book on Amazon or in your local book store.
ISBN 978-3-384-62358-4
Or download the first pages as a free PDF.
Poems Told By Nature: From Roots To Flames
Preview or download the e-book on Amazon.
Also available as paperback and hardcover.
Patreon
If you want to support my work,
follow me on Patreon.
Retro Games
Visit tarjan.itch.io to download my free retro games
for Windows, DOS, Commodore 64 and Amstrad CPC.
Plus, there's a PDF version of my book for $7.
Contact
info@feralrebel.com
Poems (follow me on Patreon for more)
I came to nature to ask the big ones
And nature invited me to stay.
I came to poetry to tell this story
And poetry invited me to stay.
My Kind Of Beauty
I will not write of daffodils,
Nor will I praise the rose.
Don't get me wrong - I see their beauty.
I just don't connect to their charm.
Sweet and tender they shine,
Picked, sold, gifted as a treat.
Beauty to look at, easy to get.
I do not want what I haven't got.
Instead, I'll write of sunshine,
Of untamable feral perfection,
Of things that bite
Should you try to claim them.
I'll write of striking composition,
Wilting within our gardened trip,
Yet blooming when undisturbed and wild,
Sharp-edged and stubbornly bright.
I'll write of what my soul needs most,
I'll write of gorse.
Don't get me wrong - I see their beauty.
I just don't connect to their charm.
Sweet and tender they shine,
Picked, sold, gifted as a treat.
Beauty to look at, easy to get.
I do not want what I haven't got.
Instead, I'll write of sunshine,
Of untamable feral perfection,
Of things that bite
Should you try to claim them.
I'll write of striking composition,
Wilting within our gardened trip,
Yet blooming when undisturbed and wild,
Sharp-edged and stubbornly bright.
I'll write of what my soul needs most,
I'll write of gorse.
Forgive me
Forgive me for the silence.
I drifted, lured by the chorus
Of shoulds and musts,
those hymns of the hollow-hearted.
They called it living.
But it led me far from life.
How strange it is,
to meet you again.
Like an old friend in forgotten woods.
The world was loud without you.
Empty, though full of noise.
Come, soul.
Let me see the places that hurt.
Let me sit beside your bruises.
I won't leave again.
Not this time.
Soulspeak
I taught myself
A language of soul
And it feels so natural
To build upon its words.
Condensed and simplified,
I let it flow
Like forest's airy whisper,
like nature's warm embrace.
Come, speak with me
And be surprised
At your own soul's might.
A language of soul
And it feels so natural
To build upon its words.
Condensed and simplified,
I let it flow
Like forest's airy whisper,
like nature's warm embrace.
Come, speak with me
And be surprised
At your own soul's might.
Impressum