Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Tuana Apr 2016
Awaken the mind with wind
Inspire the world with words
Feel the sparkle while it lasts
Create the path like a true myth
Experiment life while alive
Love, beyond its wounds
copyright: Tuana
Tuana Apr 2016
Japanese garden
-like in Venezia-
getting lost
to find myself
again
(c)Tuana
Tuana Apr 2016
when there are
two road signs
that contradict
each other
indicating
the same way
(c)Tuana
Tuana Apr 2016
The night between 6 and 7
Has a magical power.

First,
it came as a nightmare
separating my body & soul.
I used to float above my body
Asking for help.

Running in the midnight
Trying to fix the balance,
I saw a slight change in her eyes.

November,
everybody was there
like 6 and 7.

December revealed the truth
and January was a teacher
of a source of love.

February, in a fairy tale
March, a treasure box
and April showed me what to appreciate.

In every 6 and 7,
I’ve had so many teachers—
like a conversation
with an unheard voice
6 and 7

Numbers, Colors, bodies and souls
Inseparable relationship
of my 6 and 7
(c)Tuana
Tuana Apr 2016
6 and 7
Memories prevail
Somewhere between
6 and 7
Tuana Apr 2016
Beyond the Summer
Beyond the Wave
Where the horizon melts

Beyond the Melody
Beyond the Memory
Where the healing begins

Beyond the Sky
Beyond the Hope
Where all the stories continue

Beyond the Mystery
Beyond the Misery
Where things will start making sense

Beyond the Fire
Beyond the Shadow  
Where I can talk to you

Step by Step
Light by Light
I want to be there

Al di la
Escape the eternity
— Beyond
(c)Tuana
Tuana Mar 2016
I wonder how a dead can travel
but I’m feeling you
All along my journey

Traveling from Asia to Europe,
I’ve always felt you in the clouds
Sometimes, in an train compartment
In the wind in Trieste,
And then saw you
Touch the sea, la mala

but I did not who you are
Until I found myself following two figures
Strolling off into the sunset

It’s easy to say it is making me who I am
But hard to live on an emptiness,
On a lost memory.
Hence, I refuse to understand the language
that only delivers solitude.

Coffee cup caught my tear
That actually did not come out
My pen shakes with its emotions
And this is how I’m accepting the reality
-quiet reflection of a lost life
Trieste, 2016
(C)Tuana
Next page