I dream my poem.
I poem my dream.

I often think I am a glitch in the system
I have feelings I should not have
What does this world
With cold cold stars
With cold cold logic
Care about my feelings.

I met you yesterday
And gave my time to you
And what you did in return
Is leave a scar on me
And the sad part
I am used to it.

For a moment,
I thought,
I made friends.

This is my meal.
This is my home.
This is where I breathe
And live.

I am angry!

This is my meal.
This is my home.
This is where I breathe
And live.

I am angry!

«A little plant underneath.»
I thought.
Moistened
And in bloom.
Among the trees and roots.

I was there;
It was weird;
Contained in walls
And hollows;

I walked there once;
It was weird;

Yesterday I met you
You were wearing a mask
As embroidery
Nonetheles we kept talking.

I feel way too humble,
To weave all these things,
With this pen of mine!

I entertain the magical flame with these hands.
There is no clutch.
No corner.
Everything is the same.

I often go for the scene.
I want the story intertwined,
In the angle of the bottle.

The whole mood,
Of the narrative,
In the contour.

And it is the angle
And the contour
That keeps me in.

Like a hungry cat before its food.

It was resistant to oxygen deprivation.
There was something about that seed.
You could never cut its umbilical chord.

In all these scrapbooks:

Flowers I have liked.
Flowers I have seen.
Flowers I desired.
Flowers that itched.
Flowers that burnt.

I wonder what was mine?

I found a sun down there;
And there was a moon;
They called it that way;
Moon;

There was a sky;
Some bright spots
That shone especially in the night;




I found trees;
Trees couldn’t move;
And then there were other objects
That just like me, moved;

They had limbs
And they moved
From one spot to the other;

I smile like a baby
When I am around you
From the pleasure
Of you being there
Beside me
And when you look at me
I try to hide it
Because I am shy.

A poem how precious it is
Let me talk my whole life
About a poem.

At night
The voice of a nightingale could be heard.
A faraway!
A melancholic chord.

Visible
Invisible
Its aura.

Wrapping
And unwrapping me.

Once in a while
Made of electric.
In blue tissue

My fractal flower.

You are like wearing a warm cosy jacket
On a harsh cold winter day
Your kisses keep me soft
And are like a cuddle
I wish I had more of you
You walk around the days like a ghost
Like something I could have had
Here and now.

Like drops of water on skin.
Like the tip of finger, lightly on the neck.
Like blank painting, immersed on water
With some light rose in it.
This is how it feels when he loves me.

I wish fragments were anonymous.
Tear up my name.
I am way too clumsy.
Way too mortal,
For their fleeting grace.

As I was walking on the street,
Along stores there was a little pigeon.
It immediately attracted my attention its cuddly way of Walking!

Seeing its little legs crossing one at a time,
Was like seeing the little hips of the baby.
As it tries to walk.
It was a cute aesthetic shower.

You are handsome
Like a japanese wise cartoon
I love walking next to you
I love seeing you straight in your almond eyes
As youth evaporates from you
I love kissing you in the bench
At the park
For hours.

I am reaching out to you
Because I could not stop it
How have you been?
I have been missing you
Hope you have been missing me too.

It is gloomy in the city
smoke in this bar
I am sitting here alone
with no place to go
nothing to do
no friends to call

just waiting for hours to pass
sipping coffee here and then
and smoking a cigarette.

I am soothed and calmed
As I lay on my bed
After the liquids you put in my mouth
After we kissed
Late at night.

I want to take a bath in your soul
Is that so much to ask for.

They hold the hands together
And ran through the forest
Aiming for the stars
Aiming for the stars.

I am tired of playing alone
Come and play with me
I am your *****
I crave what you've got
Give me some
Give me some.

You get me drunk
On the sound of your harp
Wise man

And I come for more
And I come for more.

You stay warm in the background
Your soul wraps me up
You fill me with liquids
And I lighten up.

Marina likes to play
She holds the universe as her toy
Her fingers radiate
On the frenzy of the vibes.

I miss your call
As I drink coffee
And smoke cigarettes
In this bar

Your soul is powerful
I need your vibe
To give me some warmth
This monday evening.

I got a soul that resides within me
I tap at it from within
And I see
Oh how much I see.

A letter from you
Lights up a fire
Come write to me
Let's light up the city.

You could see in the blush in his face
He was life itself
He spoke about the stars
With the same tone he spoke
About his beloved mother
And it infected me
And I was in fire.

Look around
It is all lucid
Beautiful
Radiant
You can not but stop and take your pen
And testify it
The immortal.

It stood there
An immense energy coming through me and every one
I could not but notice it
And write about it
While others seemed asleep.

I miss you
But I will not let you ruin me again.

Hermes, my son
We were taking a little walk today
Walking you lifted your head
Looked me straight in the eye
And smiled at me
I smiled back
That is how I want to see you
Smile forever.

The fragrance of kerosene
in shadows of innuendo’s
alluring soliloquy
fragrance of kerosene

Reminding him of her hips
Hot liquid coming from within
An urge to go deep in there
And push until blank is felt.

I like to listen to my head
What does this carousel say
Spontaneously
I like to pen the silence
If it had not been written
It would be lost forever.

The hum hum of the music
One sleepy face
The shisha lights
You in front of me
Taken
But oh good ***
You took a look at me
I could not stop my smile
Pretended smoking cough

The hum hum of the music
One sleepy face
The neon lights
You in front of me
I smile
Oh smokey ***.

For a moment I took pleasure
On the fact that you existed
You were there
Silent
Withdrawn
But wise
Oh so wise

I felt I could talk to you
As if I talked to the moon
And God you could understand.

It is nice to spend time alone
but it is also nice
to spend time
with a warm hand
a warm voice
on your side.
But even when I’m alone
And feeling fine with it
I welcome many minutes
Thinking of your touch
And gentle loving words
And I don’t feel alone.
Collaboration Amethyste & Jim Musics

I am tired with the word what do you do for a living
A question whose answer will take you away from me
Because I am not productive enough
Yes I have not collected much stones recently
Like penguins do on an island
But they collect one or two just for fun
All you do is work, work
And yes you are the master of stones

Tomorrow you will be there
Another boring face
With the same attitude
Judging me why I have not collected
Much stones recently

I do the most boring job
On earth
And I am not changing my ways.

While I stretch
You frown
As i take a walk
You run
For what?
Where is it we are going?
There is nothing except for death
Waiting for us.

What will you say on your last day
What will you do with all those stones you gathered
Even dogs do not eat them
Don't you see the futility of existence
We are here to enjoy 2 hours
And then go back to where we came from.

Time for me to grab my clothes and go
To my spot hell with no one
You judge me over and over
As if my lifestyle is bothering you
Yes I sleep with guys
What is your problem

Call me a ****
Or whatever
I live my own life
With the rays of light
I am blessed with all this scenery
And I will go on.

I write because I am!

I used to write in my room,
For a very long time.
No one else invited.
It was a lot of fun

Anytime you call me
I will come to meet you
I will come.