poet

When We Were Free

We trod the cobbled courts around Karluv Most Played the fiddle in Piazza San Marco Gambled with rain in Gamla Stan Bought books in Berlin Awaited the spring in Amsterdam And then it stopped. In seven days the world ended Packed up… Read More ›

Happy People

Happy people don’t write poetry, they say Words and thoughts don’t burden their days © 2020 Erna Grcic 

On a Cloudy Day

The sun appeared out of nowhere and cast its golden breathacross the furniture. It stroked the pillows,ruffled the plant’s rowdy leaves and upset the candle. I blinked a couple of timesand it was goneas if it had never been there… Read More ›

The Sea

Close your eyes and listen to the sea As it crashes against the shore Rocking the bones of long-lost ships Grinding mighty rocksInto smithereens © 2020 Erna Grcic, Beneath the Surface Comment: This is the first stanza of the poem… Read More ›

Socially Distant

Tedium and isolation have arrived holding hands and pirouetting along the balcony railing on a rainy afternoon. © 2020 Erna Grcic 

To the Surface

Hello my lovelies, it’s been a couple of months since I started my self-imposed hiatus and, I’m glad to say, it’s been quite a creative and productive period for me. Good news and announcements first: the project that I started… Read More ›

In the Darkest Depths

Be not afraid of whirlpools, of strong winds, and murky waves. Fear the creature that dwells in the darkness deep, the ice-shackled Kraken, that threatens to surface and your soul to keep. With your every stroke in the cheery water… Read More ›

The Hurricane

In the eye of the hurricane, of clamour and clangour, of deafening din, we stare into the distance and try to find a focus,a convergence, for our ruthless ruminations to make the internal voices, shouts, screams, and whispers less potent… Read More ›

the Wind

the Wind is back with her willowy fingers and her icy breath she’s stroking the hair scratching the cheeks rustling the leaves like the pages of an oft-read book she’s stirring the smells in her grey cauldron summoning the memories… Read More ›

The Wait

My time drips to the floor Vanishes in the cracks Drunk by the thirsty wood Like water from a capsized glass Leaving me unquenched Letting the canyons on my face run dry As I wait for the world, the people,… Read More ›