reading a book isn't about
reading good words carefully chosen
to create a magic display
of perfect scenes,
it's about feeling every moment and movement
that happens between covers
like that would happen in your present reality
and you're there,
ubiquitous,
deciding whether or not the action should continue.

the disputes between lovers should be about
what colour the wallpaper is best to have,
not about what each other may conceal
wanting to quickly reveal.

when I'm seeing that your features are sad
I'm not allowed to ask why?
when you speak less in evening when you leave
I can't beg you to stay for a little bit.
I can't read you like a newspaper
but I know that,
there are some days when you're keeping all inside.

they both are out of clever things to say
and that's why she's left alone
like in a tremendous storm.

she's covering her face and looking away,
she smiles with lips but cries with small eyes,
she begs with shaky hands for a bear hug
and he's not realizing that she is slowly dying
every day in front of him.

or maybe he's doing the same.
I'm sorry my friend, but
some relationships are ending before
you realize it has been ended.

I looked in your heart and I fall in love with what I saw
I like it there, is warm, fluffy and not so crowded
like the hearts of other man I've been inside
for a small period of time.

people on the street talk loud
and the eavesdropping sounded
exactly like that:
there are too many explanations
most of them overlooked by love,
but with time comes a feeling
that grows inside the mind
replaying in unexpected moments
there is definitely something selfishness
*in not showing affection.

I've heard some words that bring just pain
mostly from moms or dads that fight with fists,
and
I've seen some kids that stay just still,
five minutes or at least.
I was so scared that poor children can be
living statues at the gate.
the gate that's border between now and then
or I rather say, between us and them.
I've heard sounds that keep me up at night,
even in dreams everything is
with silent screams
while my heart is bent in two.

searching deep beneath and high above
for special little things in people to see,
to help understand the flows that are carried
in mind, or on shoulders, or in heavy walking
down the street,
it doesn't matter what is there,
we find only what we can recognize and what we need
since the first day to the last in our lives.

some things we learn from parents and siblings
other we develop ourselves during life exploration,
that's how I've come to know that
smart people know the difference between
kind and naive,
and
stupid people think that those two are one and the same.
but today I said it aloud
and they didn't understand.

I feel  mostly hurt when I'm unable
to permanently give you the condition of resting.
I know that between yesterday and today*
you press Enter
*for tomorrow.

looking out my window
I see some wonderful things,
like beautiful, sleepy birds
who are sitting on slim twigs of white crystal
one after another just to keep the warmth
between their little bodies.
after all
there is a place without oblivion.

even the small breeze of negativity in the air
has an effect of slowing down some normal things
                why is writing poetry?
to move the fingers that crave to write the words,
first on papers and later - hopefully - on every soul
about the power of quiet, of love, of kiss, we see and feel,
and at the end of the day, the last thoughts that sing inside
are from a man that I've heard him say:
                If you forget that you have to die
                *you forget that you have to live.

have a toast for your new host
which may be a new you,
a brand new day is ahead,
rise your glass of hope and love
to touch the sky, to drink it all
or at least try to do so,
a new year may be the next challenge,
so wake up in the morning and have the courage
to dare greatly and enjoy the achievements in life.

things were new, now are old
it's part of this movement in entire world,
life beliefs, dreams or expectations,
are now cheerfully updating.
but what to ask for in this new year?
perhaps the same stuff, plus
a glimmer of wisdom
to understand more better and deeper
the next segment in our life.

there's something that I wanted to ask
about songs that slowly resonate in my field of heart
are you hear them too, or is just me?
however, I keep that for me.
the songs start easily and grow by time
when my lover comes towards me unannounced.
I'm still on the same frequency as he is,
in a world where speaking words like I love you
have real power, to move the space, to warm up a body
to create a need for more, considering even a life time together.
so, must be a song about love.

being in the fog of unclear thoughts
while waiting for a calm moment for them to sit down
to put in hold this part of life, may be a good decision after all.
but there you came fast to me, full of your wicked **** grin,
and I'm not afraid of shaking my thoughts even harder,
while everything is going slower.

it's amazing to feel a sense of shy belonging
for souls that I only know from what I've been reading,
some words about how they think  and feel,
their letters of meaning, black on HP blog.
sometimes I ask myself if there's a truth in what they write,
if there's a real pain or joy inside
or it's just a mind thing that comes and goes
from their huge empathy and loving soul.

because reader,
if beauty is not enough in life to be,
the writers will die trying to make you see,
do not worry for wasting time,
another poet will be alive
to show anyone what is worth living for,
you just be an open soul.

Turn your face to the wall or look in the other way*
I'm thinking that's what I should say
Because you do not want to see how I'm releasing
The sad emotions that I've kept inside for so long,
This is my moment to let them free,
So they can spread their wings to fly away
Where dreams can catch depressed feelings
and converse them in beauty of life.
If you don't have the strength to witness this amazing event,
my darling friend, close your eyes and
please hold my hands.

my heart asks about you, what should I say?
that you are miles away? In other world I might say
and yet still here, nowhere to reach me.
you are all the spring flowers on the hills
and the earth is breathing through you
only three months a year.
you are the clouds that pass in front of the sun
in a long day of summer time.
you are all the leafs that fall from trees
more in a day in autumn season than in all year.
you are the frozen snow under my boots
that whisper softly in my ears
little sister,
*I miss you too!

We live in a world where we show our affection
through likes, reblogs and shares.
we meet with friends just to stay at the same table
with smartphones in hands and smile casually at each other
gladly that we speak about moments and life
through pin pictures and tagging... stuff.

Things to say in a life time are just that,
A life time to say them, not to hide them with pride.
Where is my courage to scream them to you?
I think it's lost on a forgotten path.

I find it downright admirable
to read the thoughts of ordinary people
which may transpose letters on the sheet,
forming eternal words with magic meanings.
I tend to think there is a hidden power,
because some souls can be healed with good metaphors.

to capture a few seconds
of my sophisticated sense of humor
is not actually a lost.
like when I simply say that sometimes
I get sick of feeling a tremendous fear
when I smile with hidden pain at someone
*who is half way to the death side.

I like seeing kilometers left behind
And smile at rear-view mirror from the left side,
pressing the gas pedal a little harder
to see in the dash board how my car is running faster.

Looking further on my left,
I see cars flying in opposite direction from me,
and it strikes me right away,
next year I'll be on that side of the highway.

I find myself sitting on the bed,
in a quiet of grave,
staring at the empty bag
that lays in front of me
supposed to be already made.
I will let all here, behind.
This thought makes me smile more
Finally, I'm going home.

Maybe we are like tall trees that are burst by the wind from all sides,
But because of those difficulties, they have grown deep roots underground.
Perhaps that’s the all point, to not bend too much until they break,
So they can survive multiple shots of pain.

stand still second that you pass
for me to have a longer kiss, now at the midnight.
you want to go to the next second to sum up,
trust me, I understand that.
I want to do the same with him,
so please,
wait a moment to go further and meanwhile, feel free to dream.
make the time a little long
so I can speak tomorrow about love.
listen to my request and extend yourself
so I can repeat again that action that starts with a bonded kiss.

I tend to forget that I have you
for a set period of time
not very often I remember to cherish our love
to protect our promises
to enjoy every kiss and hold
to extend our tenderness moments
because we both know
how it is to lose it all.

we make a trade in life
in every second of our journey on earth
to buy the things we think we need
just to witness them slowly fade.
we are somehow forced to keep the trading action in control
for no other reason, but feeling sorrow on our own,
thereby,
we trade health with money
youth for old age
pain for tears
a fake smile for pride
a good candy for childhood memories
and the work we do now for what we might have someday.

I want to say...
but not the words to be heard
maybe only my mind to be read
because I feel the need so deep
to scream out the secret I keep.

there are a lot of sad things in the world to see
that melt the heart with hot tears
and
make the body to thrill of compassion.
for some of us, who can easily recognize
people who don't know how to live,
because all they do is to survive.
humans often forget about what is life about
the most common feeling is
not to be content of... life
and I can hear them say a lot
not enough
beautiful, skinny, rich, bold, fast, smart.
I get so tormented that I want to yell at them:
*do you know how to enjoy life?

pain of being away from a place called home
where mom can cook and listen to me how I will fulfill my dream.
my dream is my future
not
my future is a dream , inclined to think that now.
still, nothing happens and I'm here. thousands of kilometers away
in a foreign country where I miss hearing my language
even in a store,
and to spend a lazy Sunday with my friends and family.
I always feel like I don't have a balance
and I hear only with one ear
their language.
sometimes I get mentally tired.
the power of trying is wasted halfway to... nowhere.

what I could give in exchange here?
nothing can pay the comfort of home.
and I miss the thousands of people from home
because here are many and no one.

there are different types of crying
each of us has at least one or two
and from my point of view
the most used is the one without tears,
when the soul cries loud and everything in the body hurts.
and there is another one that goes hand in hand with rain
you're between droplets, crying and nobody can see the tears.

I got the feeling that
my all life revolves, without my attention
somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow.
the promise of having all forever
and get a full use of it snaps me out of numbness
and I finally can feel *today.

Someone said to me
*The devil doesn't give free samples.

from the wisdom of an old woman
who had a sick husband shot in the chest
five centimeters to the east
so close to the heart, he even survived
The Second World War
had seven children
and a good but short life.

old face sunburned  and sweaty,
old soul full of memories that keep her
dream awake of what was
a lifetime ago she whispers slowly from nowhere.

sometimes I'm afraid of her power
but when she speaks I'm covered in emotions
I wish that all can be the same
like once upon a time
*today, tomorrow and every day.

found happiness on blazed hills
enjoy love on unforgettable lands

my heart wants to understand and
be refound in what my mind reads.
a clarity of what happens in front of me
because is hard, and I get tired.
so tired of trying
and slowly I let go. becoming numb.
staying like that until I'll figure it out
to cry myself to sleep at night
to make rhymes in my head
with
this disease
how sick is that?
thought, I can still see "the forest"
but is not green. is grey to black.

I will love you the most
sounded very childish, a long time ago,
and in seven years I always came first.
I never said thank you for your love
you don't have to
because dear
love is for free.
and I choose to love you.

I have no fear to admit
that
I've come to depend on you.
the strength of your arms when you bring me closer to you
the heat of your body always warm,
your steady heartbeat.
how your chest vibrates while you speak
when my head is on your back
because there is one of my favorite places
in the world to be,
upon you
thinking that I cannot touch the ground.
I'm untouchable.

seconds before the kiss our eyes meet
anticipation makes me get closer
then collide with pressure increasingly higher.
sometimes I think I'll become liquid
because I'm melting in desire
in the pleasure of a simple kiss
warm. gentile/ naughty. wet.

my life is so normal, beautiful and restful
always being around you
and for this I am more than grateful.

it's about friendship
one of a few things mankind can accomplish.
I don't quite remember,
but with you was all clear from the beginning
relations are quite amazing.

remember to breathe when the world moves fast around you
remember to grab and hold tight when you start feel spinning around
remember to close your eyes taking a moment for you
remember to yell and cry and run and stay and live
remember to kiss and love and hug and protect
remember is a difference between alone and lonely
remember not to say all you know, keep something for yourself
remember to open your eyes and see the truth beyond watching
remember about time and loss and appreciation
remember to contribute with your knowledge
remember all of us grieve someone
and just remember to breathe.

I was in the market place to buy eggs
and I saw him
a mentally ill old man begging for something.
the seller said to him...
                                            (what do you think?!)
the mentally ill old man started wallowing on the ground
and beg and beg and beg
in his incoherent of logic.
I was stunned.

when I was 5 I realized that my class mates
from kinder garden didn't listen to our teacher
and mock the others with and about anything
and I didn't understood why.
10 years later I realized that there are good girls and good boys
and also bad girls and bad boys.
I always choose the good ones, but
I secretly asked myself how are the bad ones.
after another 10 years... I know who they are.
they are people who can't understand a brother or a sister in pain.
they are incapable of love and acceptance.
who can guard with their life's
gues what? strawberries!
in a little **** market place.
the seller continue to do his job,
making abstraction of what just happened.

poor man he wanted a few strawberries.
A. give him money and the mentally ill old man started to cry
and I fought back the tears because
I didn't have the courage to let them free.

how awful of me to remember a ill human being
associated with one or two or three strawberries he wanted
to taste.

take me!
on a ride we should go
secrets not to hide anymore but to spit them all
to whisper slowly in the cold night
when we stay embrace, face to face.
take me in a dream
to discover a new place for both
'cause we need to engage in life
like we never did before
what better way for me to watch your back
and you to watch mine.
we are worth fighting for, not tapping out anymore.
have a moment with me
tell me not what I want to hear
but what I need and I'll do the same for you.
chasing for an open space, with clear view
we should discover how is to love
and
maybe
how is to fall in love again.

take me again on that ride
make me to anticipate what pleasure is like
I know you won't go there,
yet
remember and show me what is foreign now to me
what I've forgot I crave so much
what safe and belonging is like.