i felt you'd come back,
there's no other way
I know her, she likes to cool off in the soft white snow,

with the hand on my heart, I swear,
at the new moon, you are my only lover,
i see her in your lips, as sharp as  fantasy swords,
in them, you have me sweet like blood,

why wait for cactus arms to grow,
and the next flowers to bloom,
  cut the juicy, thorny fruit, red pulp,
we won't wait for the pollination,
days are made for farmers, not  lovers,
how bright, you write, that want to kiss my photo,
but what a photo is? my love, what? if not just paper,
let's bloom in less than twenty-four hours,
let's make them all, all saguaro flowers, die from jealousy and envy,
with hate and madness to **** the desert,

i'll come at night, disguised (as a mexicano bat)
let's make the night our heaven
and the new moon, a snowflake that falls in your olive eyes

(although, once i loved a man with wolf eyes)

i can't touch you,
i'm forbidden to touch you,
to think of you, to sigh
          but i can see the seagulls
flying over the sea
            and screaming
                                and flying
i see how the waves are throwing stones at them
                                                    and they don't look back,

i”m forbidden to look into your eyes
but i can bathe in them like a tear,
and touch your warm cheeks,
until i drown in leaves,
i'm forbidden to kiss you,
but i can look for the summer,

i'm not allowed to touch you,
to sigh,
but i can smell you like an orchid
born without laws, without oaths,
before the sphinx man,
born of steam and smoke,

look, they overpopulate the earth
shooting "arrows" covered in pollen,
                                                        i­­n all directions

My love,
it might seem strange our encounter, and
the words that move the air like an earthquake, from north to south,
                                                          ­                              south to north,
bathing the stars,
and the stars aligning the sounds.


I will tell you more about Snow Town, but you tell me about your heart,
                                                          ­                dreaming of going up north,
where saddened icebergs are melting in the eyes of the ignorant:
- can you hear how hungry white bears are screaming for help,
drowning with their babies.

Do not cry, my love, we still have the old mail post box,
monarch butterflies are bringing me letters from you,
the owls are watching every move
and the turtles
                          keep moving for hundreds of years
                                                           ­   and never get tired.

We are so lucky, my love, so fortunate,
what else we can do if we are made for love, like butterflies.

Tell me, that no land can be more ready, dry-cold-hot
                                than the pole-north & chihuahua desert,
two lovers that only can dream of ice shadows, and the fantom of Georgia O'Keeffe, our mother, still, painting roads in the snow for the blind one,
calling them home.

my love,

just give me this day,
                                   as if we are airplanes, parading, and
flying in between the clouds,
                               gray sky,
clooooouuuuuuds,
like in those black-and-white (II war) documentaries,


i promise,
               not to add other colors to them,
why should i,
                     when the original is the original,  and
it has to remain original,


my love, what is the point in watching colored war movies,
when Africa, like a fire,  was coughed up in the middle

i hide y under my skin, like an archive of war,
                                                           and wait,
      like a spy that keeps a secret code in his pocket,                      
is not hard at all to carry y with me every day,
every night,
it comes naturally, like drawing, or
dreaming,

because of the blood ties, there is no ******* in the
                                                             ­ heartbeats market,
they
grow
stronger
and stronger
                    without rehearsing the same beat twice,
waiting
            until
                      ​the next wave  will come,  and
tear apart every single cell, and leave like a ghost leaves

*my love,
hiding and escaping is not the same thing

criminal touch,        infractor that kills on paper,
torment me,
                    torment me,
                                        and let me dream of you,
- have you below the air

      i will  fall on my knees, like a leaf, when
the earth cracks from one end to the other, half awake,
half asleep,
        let me learn your firmness,  drown my eyes in every word,
- a blind man, with the tip of my  fingers i read your blood,
                                                          ­                    your lips -
chaotic, whispering:  - what a calligraphic writing, organized and
without mistakes,

let your rigor entice me, like a spear piercing you,
          passing through the air                        until we become experts,
specialists in criminal law

it's not hard to touch you,

he asked me:
- did you hear the winds last night,
and how the tender branches bent on you
like wings,

i reached home late,
fed the dog,
sipped camomile tea,
covered with stardust,
and drifted away, like an echo, will

last night I slept with the moon in bed,
I didn't close the window like before: -
come in when you want, I told her,
and she came in,

morning arrived,
I woke up, full
the moon
sat on the left side of the bed, with the heart in hands,
the sun rose on the right

All you need  is someone to dream about,
Someone who raises your pulse up as a knight,
Moves the dunes in the sea, warms your palms without
touching you,

Cuts the fog, with no wings, makes you fly above the clouds,
Lighting up like a thunder, lighting up  like a thunder, in the night,
All you need is someone to dream about,

There are games that poets never can win, as dreamers do, in the walkabout,
Forbidden to touch you, but always  rearranging the starlight,
Moves the dunes in the sea, warms your palms without
touching you,

The reader  reads that confession  can harm  or make famous only  the poet,
Without the attempt to evade the hero's journey, and fight,
All you need  is someone to dream about,

And do not wonder, that you sit alone at your table,
When we”ll grow up I want us to have chestnut bights,
Move the dunes in the sea, warm our palms without
touching,

There is nothing in the world that you know better than stones,
And yet, my darling, you crash them in search of diamonds, light,
All you need  is someone to dream about,
Moves the dunes in the sea, warms your palms without
touching you,

Even if you don't sleep, this night will pass,
It will pass, and
The morning will come, and the sun will rise,
With its rays bright, silky, bushy, without mercy,
Without consolation, it will tear the clouds apart,
Split the sky in two, like a woman in labor,
The day will be born, perfect child,
Perfect reincarnation, without the need to find
The closest point to Earth, the most distant,
It will pass as if it was not, and never will be, again,
It will, slowly, rotate in the way of the Hunting Moon

in the same dream-like spell,
in the name  of now,
in stones
we bury the past alive,

for we shall dance with the birds,
swim with the fish,
walk like monkeys, kissing the earth,
kissing the earth as if
is the last lover,
below the last horizon

Let love be the  blowing wind,

Let love be the crying rain,
Screaming crow,

Eyes to eyes, lips to lips,
Skin to skin,
Life dreams Life, and Love dreams Love,

God dreams God,

Only flowers siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing,

Leeet looove beee the  blooowing wiiind,
Leeet looove beee the cryyyying raaain,
Leeet looove beee the screeeaming crooowww,


While the sun is shining bright,
Shining only for the night,

Leeet looove beee the  blooowing wiiind,
Leeet looove beee the cryyyying raaain,
Leeet looove beee the screeeaming crooowww,

Do you think you can write poetry? messing up with centuries of poetry,
be the best  AI-******* in the poetry world?

Do you think you can step on Shakespeare,& Lermontov, Rumi,
and crash the human soul?

Do you?

the rain is
nostalgic
romantic, and
pretty
like a sad muze,
the best day for poetry to spring, and
breathe fresh air,
somehow,
we,
people, besides whining and complaining about the ugly weather, still get quieter without noticing
that rain, like a peacemaker, is trying hard to make us stop and surrender to life as everything around us
does
make peace on earth as the sky is crying

I don't know how it found  you, but
tonight is the full moon,
yellow moon,
I have never seen it before, it is shining like gold above the land,
the grass is submissive
and the  farmers are working hard, cutting it  for the cows,

My real  lover has come,
he returned, but
he is drunk,
and I don't know how to touch him,
I don't know how to kiss him,

His tears are falling down  like rain
in despair,

My lover returned,  -
God is one, has no equal,
but, I don't know how to love  him,
Caresse him

Rockefeller Centre do you have a garbage can,
do you have an electric charger
Rockefeller Centre do you have water,
Rockefeller Centre do you have a happy life???

we learned to sit like birds on a wire,
the bicycle,
unicycle, the backward somersault,
the front somersault, the chair on the wire,
the bed on a cloud,
seated in a hyperloop toilet,
69,
96 in an 8,
jumping through hoops: what we are doing here?
it looks almost unreal, so
we started to reinvent the wire, like emil cioran,
we reinvented insomnia and
the otherness …

-
second by second
the illusions abandon me

Paris looks the same as it did in Satie's time

a chair in the park
music

people are walking

i sit down
and wait for the wind to pass by

it's enough to breathe
to touch you

it's enough to breathe
let your voice sing

it's enough to breathe
to see you come and go
walk like an angel

a little dreamer
and (i” ll) hold you in my eyes
-  sparkles
under the same shadow
two little dreamers
breathing tears, planting stars in the soil
while the rain is  craving  for the grass taste
is always returning back in the sky
so, the wind can play with falling leaves

be a little dreamer when  birds build nests
and i will hold you in my eyes

a voice whispers:  write, make peace,

writing is the weapon of peace,

face to face, i sit down, i close my eyes as if i am in a duel,
to see nothing, i check
and stretch out my hands, fumble,
i take the pencil as if  pulling the trigger,
i  realize that i could **** myself with it, or resurrect,
fall in love,
i also  can bring  flowers on my grave,


my mother always told us: for everything you want to do and  say in life, you need to trust
you are born because someone trusts you to be born,
you take the  breast in your mouth, you **** milk because someone trusts you to touch the breast,
you start humming, crawling on all fours because you saw the cat, and the cat
trusts you,
you jump with your neck down from the bed, you hit yourself, and you cry but you
say it doesn't hurt because you trust the floor, the mother kisses your bubu,
instantly the river of trust-flows through the blood,
you walk, you run after sparrows, you feel like the biggest man on earth,
and you fly,
fly, like an eagle,
you have so much trust that you start giving it away, on the  left and on the
right, and you don't feel poor, you don't feel stupid either,
the world looks at you, admires you, and wonders how you are so clever and
strong-willed,

but, there might come a day when you want to write a poem as if you are
blind
and you don't care, you walk like a blind man forward,
you move,
you do what you have to do,

you cross the street

rises and falls like a dragon

still, a wall

caresses the guitar with his jelly fingers
he sings "y my love"


the rain is coming anyway
it's coming and lifting you up in the sky


chris rea sings "i don't sleep tonight"
"y my love"


i make love with  the sky,
you make love with the rain

chris rea plays the guitar
"there is nothing to fear"

my palm remained in your palm

simply, it was blind  luck
great luck

* before becoming literate
intellectualized
we had time,
we had time to cultivate ourselves
on the taste of the stones

but you can
let her pet y like a stray cat
  enchanted by its power and its sad beauty,
it enters your fur,
lets her shadow fall in your arms, -  wake up,
wake up,

y  adopt her as your muse

we spring up on the  new moon,

my love,

this is the day, we return to our star nest,
love is born softer than before, -
a baby that needs to be held in his mother's arms,
nurtured and cuddled,
it always returns, like tree buds,
flowers,
birds flying across the mountains, across the waters,
to be free like them, we kiss our palms
while the new moon is watching us playing in the grass like two little wolf cubs, knowing one day we” ll be lonely again, sad, and we” ll cry and  howl at the full moon,
despite all this, we return  again, twisted, shivering in the night light
smashing everything

falling deeper than  the eyes
rising higher than the stars

we are the crops of the sky
we are the crops of  the sky

to dig and dig,  to trace  endless chains of causes and effects,
to dig and dig seems as foolish as trying to build a castle from sand and hope that will touch the sky,

it was a hot burning day,
now is  raining,  and the thunder is turning the sky upside down,
while the lighting, like a God, to be seen,  and wanted, came at my window,  
touched my heart,

is not easy
to find from which spot  of the sky we are falling,
from which cloud

the truth is not for everyone,

pious souls
poets have a task to perform without pursuing foolish curiosities that arise through weakness of intellect,
pride, or
diabolical urges.

is growing, darling,
is growing,
the roses are blooming,
blooming,
nothing can stop them from opening up in front of the sun,
in front of people's eyes,
i am only watering them, and
watching

with white gloves
carries it on his shoulders, - the sand
shatters-
-in the dance of the heat

the eagles wait solemnly

leave my body soft
in the air, leave it up
up
on the tower of silence
at the origin of rain

forbidden to the earth
waiting for the rescuers of the sky

only
the steam pushes you toward me

  the floor is flying, smashed
like marble

lying
under the table
is licking my feet and  
palm

we look at him
swallowing the void like the night is swallowing the stripper,

and the rain falls on the window
  drop by drop

bury my lips in the buds of the rain
until the leaves don't turn yellow on the ******* of the clouds
bury them so I can't say a word
and die thrown into the sky
like a thunder
night after night, with stars on my forehead
   the moon stabbing my chest,  reborn
   like a flame
when your tears dig wells in the grave of silence,
bury my lips in the buds of the rain
like
forgotten
chains of kisses

and leave,
leave as if i don't exist and never existed,

i know you are strong enough, and you are made for this kind of touch,
i promise not to ask you anything, or nag you; i won't cry, won't scream,
i won't run after you, either
or try to pull your sleeve, make you look back,

touch me, like then
when you love someone secretly for years and years and
you dream and dream,
you dream and  pray in secret to die with her, and one day you wake up, stunned in front of her, you wake up
and wait for the wind to play with leaves in her hair and you just pick them gently
and touch her chin, lips and after,
after, you  leave, hunchbacked
you leave
without saying a word, stiff as stones
without looking back

touch me like you have no idea i'm here on earth
and i do my own things and
i have no idea that you are here on earth doing your own things,
but
we know what it's like not to be touched, not to be hugged
while the stars are closer than the eyes,
we know how courage can save the white bird and the blackbird in a blink of an eye,

touch me in your eyes
-in your eyes, as if you are making love to me,
like you're making love to me and we hold each other so tight, so tight we hold each other like we hate each other, so tight
we hate
we hate each other to death

i know you have been dreaming,
i won't disturb your sleep,
we've always been together as if we have one birth one breath,
wildflowers,
wildflowers,
we've always  been together at sunrise and sunset,
we never missed one day one night,
and now,
my darling,
and here,  my dear,  the time arrived and i will kiss you,
and i will give  you a goodbye kiss
as wildflowers have no spare ideas,  and don't care where they grow,
and don't care where they dry
and die,
and they will always be there, somewhere, there, out, like love,
in between the clouds and the stones,
in between the drops of rain and drops of hearts
tangled in the grass, thank god we don't have to cry,
and if we do
there is no need to hide our tears and be the subject of madness
as we can grow anywhere, anyhow, as wildflowers do,
in the soil or sand, in the rain and sunshine,
in the storm,
on the mountains,  and watch the eagles fly and dance,
and watch the eagles as they vanish behind the clouds,
behind the sky

i will flyyyyy
i will flyyyyy

just to see you in the sky
just to touch you in the clouds

and to tell you like before, when you looked into my eyes
and to feel you like before, when you hold me in your arms:
everything is still the same,
everything is still the same,
and the sun is up and  shining,
and the night still has your moves,
and the day is like a flower,
and the stars are falling down,
down
down,
and I” ll fly, fly, flyyyy
just to see you in the sky

where love goes on and on
where love goes on and on

and on
and on

whoooo is there behiiind the skyyy,
whoooo is there behiiind the cloooouds,
and the suuuun when briiiightly shiiiining,
whoooo is there behind the niiiight,

whoooo is there behiiiiind, behiiiind,
whoooo is there my deeeear, my daaaarling,
whooo is there behiiiind the staaaars,
whooo is there behiiiind the staaaars,

whoooo is there behiiiind the raaaain,
when the drops fall dooown and dooown,
who is there behind your miiiind,
whoooo is there my deeear, my daaaarling,

who is there behind the skyyy,
whoooo is there behiiind the cloooouds,
who is there in your heeeeart,
who is there behiiind, behiiind,
whooooooo is there if noooot the wiiiiind,

whooo is there if nooot the wiiind,
whoo is there if not the wind,

you do it wrong!
you can” speak, you do it wrong,
you can not dream, you can not feel, you do it wrong,
you can't write, your spelling is wrong,
you are an analphabet,
they  will slap your hands
and put you in the corner so everyone can laugh at you,

she grabbed me by the hair hit the writing board and washed the floor with me,

i jumped up like a frog and  stabbed her ****** eyes, and stabbed her ugly face with my gaze,
that was the first time in my life when i felt hate,
i screamed:  you are a witch, not a teacher!  -  great one, September, i just started school and i hated  it,
i hated everyone, but everyone:

she kicked me out of the class,  

if i knew how to swear probably i would”v scream: ******* ugly beach!
******* ugly beach!
******* ugly beach!

in my head i was done with school, it gave me so much relief,
i shook my head, shook my blond hair, opened widely my green eyes and
i run to the library,

the librarian looked and  smelled  like my mother,

she asked me if i have a class, i told her: -  i finished school,
she blinked smartly and mimicked as if believed me: - do you want to pick a book and read?  
Yes, I can read!
she gave me a book  and i started reading it loud, with intonation as i saw on tv writers were reading,
the librarian told me: - you read like a poet, and smiled,

*

Whatever are those people in your life: parents, teachers, friends that work for evil,
Some would tell you: we have only one menu, and you have to eat it. Oppressed will spread oppression! Do not listen to them!

Do not believe them! No matter who they are and how powerful they consider themself, they are not your authority!  Evil takes many shapes and forms to blind you to steal your dreams and strength,

Oppressed will spread oppression! Do not listen to them!
Think about the Creator and look into the future! You are a treasure, there is always a chance and hope to wait for you after the corner!

is real,
one more time,
no, no, no
yes, yes, yes

and then listen, and die,
and sing, listen, and die,
and cry,
sing, listen, and die,
quickly
lips
coming down and down like a thunderlight, all
the time, as you would stand with one leg  on the ground
and the other one lifts up like when you kiss for the first time, like in 60”s, and
arms arms arms,
round round round,
lips lips lips,
kiss kiss kiss,

below the sky,

tears tear tears,
falling and falling  and falling

below the grassroots,

în our hearts
we make honey in our hearts, we make honey from our dreams we make honey
and now we can trade them on our roads,
we can trade them on our roads like we would trade the most expensive menu  in a restaurant

We are Fighting for the Red One and for the Green One,  
and for the Invisible One,
We are fighting for the One that are paralyzed for not sleeping, not eating, but
Remember the Spirit, and See in the Sky,
The Eagles are flying,  and the White Owls are singing!

she is the flower girl that puts a spin on the edge of the drum bit,
the one that touches the sky and listens to the earth like a smoke alarm

every bright future is a wind whisper,
a caress of the ray,
every touch in the palm is a getaway for  flying words,
each word, like a *****, wears two white lines and one black,
a life spent in thought, not to withdraw in etilic sevraj, from time to time
raises the glass to taste the words  with its mouth, cheers ... cheers ...
silence,
confessing,  silence
silence,
forgiveness,
every forgiveness is a lucid grave,
a grave clear as water that  watches the angels as they grow wings and fly,
they rise and rise to unclog the springs from the air,  unearth the  sunset
and embrace the light like a newborn at the mother's breast,
every death has a mother, every death has a father.

i'm lying in the grass, looking at a cloud,
it seems to be looking at me,
intently does not move,
suddenly, like an angry man, with chaotic movements,  angry begins the disintegration into a hazy color,
disappears like smoke,
not far away are some large stones also lying in the grass,
on one of them i see a cat, it looks at me with bright eyes as if it sees me from far within,
i keep looking into the void,
two dragonflies make love and how in ******* jolts they die together, oh
ugh

- Silence
disturbed by crickets,

(like a spectator lying in the grass, i suddenly startle and hope not to step on any living creature or
dead, but
only grass knows)

in your absence,
i am a shore that  has eyes only for waves and annoying rocks,
  how for thousands of years are grinding one another,
the sand
  an infant with many stony relatives babysitting when it plays with the water,
runs from shore into the sea, comes out  like gold,
in your absence touches my feet, i built  castles in the sand,
the sand never builds castles for itself, it only sticks to my feet,  hands,
wants to go home with me,
last night i was turning from side to side,
twisting,
the bed was full of sand,

and  i pretended to be the air, warm wind gently moving behind his ears,
ruffling his hair, touching his eyelids,
smoothly entering his chest, making him believe that he was breathing,  and i again
pretended to be a flower, a beautiful flower,  calmly waiting,
alluring him with my gaze as you would lure  a bee, or a bird when it flies and hums, and sings, ***** its wings and  looks for its place in the palm,
then he asked me again: - and yet, what is it like to be a woman? and
i  pretended it was raining
and raining

a man wanted to pass through me, and i was sleeping as if i had left the present world, i was carried so deeply away, and i saw his eyes,
he had small black eyes, elongated like two cheetahs,
like a willow that is just beginning to turn green it bent towards me
he left his hand on my left shoulder as if it were water,
he touched me gently as you would touch a drunken man who had fallen into a ditch and for fear of not scaring his death or the ditch, for fear of not disturbing, you would touch him with a kind of respect, you would shake him gently, gently, with love-in-the-eyes you would rock him and rock him as if you were rocking a baby in a cradle of bread like in the old days
with the astonishment of the mortal to whom the stars are not so well arranged, you stop stiffly as if by this pretty treatment, even so dead, you would still want to take something from him,
stiff as a mummy with two coins on the eyes, you look at him, from that moment you are the gambler,
but
as i was telling you, last night a man came to pass through me and i was deeply asleep, after which like a fool i turned to the other side and took him by the hand to do the rolling, like a  roll of fabric we rolled, we kept rolling ...
and now he also has his  night like mine where he sleeps deeply deeply away
like forgetting
until he reaches the other side...

it is well known, cats do only what they want and dream about,
it is much easier to train a dog or take care of a baby elephant ( lost from the herd
when the parents are looking for water&food and he is left behind)

i step into Otto's skin, it's tight, dark and cold,
i hear meowing... the first thought is: i hope the little one is not alone in the rain,
i roll in his skin as if the cats domesticated the man,
i go in, i come out, it is wet and cold inside, Otto is sneezing,
he's allergic to people, like bukowski, he hates their dogs,
cats, their cars, hates everything they do, and have,

Otto does not understand why felines came to be considered sacred,
in a literary language he shouts&swears: - you illiterate creature,
you don't even know how to calculate 5X33c. feet of rope,

i insist and step again into Otto's skin, his eyes are slippery as mercury,
i look from inside at them, i blink without noticing
and gave him a handkerchief

Captain Hook
i know, you've got scars that can be seen with an open eye,
and yet, when i look at your long curls like stalactites, i wonder
why don't you tell me more,
i know for sure, you'll have fun seeing my relatives,

hope the numbness in your right hand is gone,
it's one thing when peter pan cuts your left and quite another
when you die with the sword in your right,

are there eyes bluer than the sky to see through the waves
and salt
when i bite your nails, devotee,
when my lips cover your lips, silently (the only way to survive)

but if your right hand dies how will you carry your cross,
how are you going to gather yourself at one point when
the pinky/ring fingers sit nicely in the middle of the palm like yin/yang,
forget-me-nots,

Note: Mr. Hook, if you really want something the desire must be greater than the column of infinity or the tip of your nose.