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  Mar 2018 irinia
The Masked Sleepyz
I see you,
In greater conversations
And small
Talks,
Lost in time,
But,
Weighted in a reality,
That the years
Exist,
Through small lines,
Near your eyes
Are histories,
That most miss,
I see you,
In stanzas of songs,
Reminding you
Of home,
Nights of sweat and smoke,
Paired with a hopeful abandon,
Of living forever
But praying for death
By
Their kiss,
I see you,
In prose and rhymes,
Of books upon books,
With eyes heavier than
The pride,
You wish you saw in your father's,
The legs sore,
Because you forgot what it's like
To not try to run,
I see you,
In the moments,
In the
In between,
The indescribable
Deep breath photographs
That make up the flashes
Of phone calls and razors edges
On linoleum,
With Fate's scissors
Being put back in the box,
I see you,
Through the hidden smiles,
That convey a sense of mystery,
Forcing my uncontrolled
Outbursts,
To see what other
Smirks and eye rolls
That even you are surprised
When they are uncovered,
Like the gaunt archeologist
I treasure them,
And put them on display
At my memories museum,
I see you,
In the days
You are away,
When shirts and the sounds
Of morning coffee contemplations
Are the only things
Keeping me sane,
I see you,
In future momentary messages,
And past years pudding proof,
That with all the moments,
Yet lived,
That
Will let me,
See you.
  Mar 2018 irinia
chimaera
words
by millions,
collected them,
a life time,
constellations
pinned,
hanged,
winged,
butterfly like.

pick
one by one,
their weight,
their taste.

empty,
every one.
heavy
like round pebbles
on dried creeks.

summoned the night
upon, laid my wings.

rainbows
gave me up.
16.03.2018
irinia Mar 2018
mama told me:
minodora, stop thinking about sam
when you go to the market
think of bacon, think of cabbage
be a proper woman
what would have been, i asked her
if beethoven hadn’t always had a bird
singing in his head?
yeah but beethoven, mama said
picking up the dust rag
and starting to clean the genius’s ears
and that’s only because i must
write about you
the same way i must sneeze
or yawn
i dreamt of you last night
you had a baby with a cat’s head
he was cute as a button
you were screaming your head off
‘come see what a tumbling rock
has to go through to reach a beautiful stillness’
it’s a big deal
when you forget to cross yourself
before going to sleep

Nora Iuga translated by Diana Manole and Adam Sorkin
irinia Mar 2018
Dear E. S.
poetry
is the world the human race
my own life
all flowered from the word
the transparent wonder
of a delirious ferment

When I find
one single word
in this my silence
it is hewn into my life
like an abyss

Giuseppe Ungaretti
irinia Mar 2018
Like this stone
of Monte San Michele
as cold as this
as hard as this
as dried as this
as stubborn as this
as utterly
dispirited as this

Like this stone
is my unseen
weeping

Death
we discount
by living

Giuseppe Ungaretti, 1916
irinia Mar 2018
your words like high speed winds
making noise on my skin
I put on a psychedelic lipstick
I take off the blue dress
(made in India)
- he tries new scores with
oxidized fingers
galvanizes the silence, the thirst, the dreams of the air-
I want to confess iloveyous louder
than the coffee machines. Louder
than the morning radio. Louder
than tram number 5.
life is what happens while
you stay, leave, come back and
redefine our melting point

I open the door,
you are there
with your carnival smile
and nothing prepares me
for this obscure truth:
imponderable I feel
when you say
my name my name my name
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