now

if we don't love now
fall on our knees, now
if we don't cry out loud, now, if we don't tear apart our clothes  right now,
if  tears don”t  crack the stones, now
and  hearts don”t jump like ping pong ***** on fire, now,  when we are twisting  this strand of hair,
if you don't touch my chin,  lightly,  like a feather, lightly, now,
now
the gaze, fiery samurais cutting off our eyes with  leaves,  shattering mustard bellies, - in white webs,
spiders,
in the blink of an eye, releasing air with no shores,
no reins
endless, now
lips, hot steam,
in the blink of an eye, we raise wild rainbows in the clouds,
when? if not now,  we caress the lightning with the tongue of longing, in the blink of an eye,
if  we don”t taste the lilac in between our teeth, now,
when, and how,  
and who”ll take care of us when we are angry,
tired
and
sad
and
forgotten by  the world
left alone
grieving in a naive tremor:

- lovers do not meet at one end, not at the other,  but
have always been in each other:

- well, well… but who will take care of us when we are old, alone, and sick
if we don't touch each other,  now,  like two people

full of light is the sun

when bowing down

behind the hills

where feathery flowers

wait for burning its gold

waves of colours faint

in the evening light

and hope scents

the land growing wild

in the flushing breeze

dancing each stem

in its own delicacy

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?

leaving the cotton sky,  
flying and falling at the same time,
and, after, waiting, în silence, waiting,
in your dreams,
melting

A child's smile
A cup of tea
A walk in the woods
A fleeting sense of serenity
An eruption of joy
Happiness
A magic moment
in the labyrinth
of our existence

In a deciduous forest
a coronach was composed by the
horrendous night, as
a venomous exiguus creature
was waiting for an incursion.

to find a balance between the feeling of uselessness
and that of the need to fight,
between the certainty of inevitable failure
and the inevitable imperative,

wet, wandering free on the streets,
sly, you looked into my eyes exaggerating with a cough: - i think i'm getting a cold,
isn't it the best rain,
the best day,
hug,
in the warmth of a hug, we melted like butter in each other's arms,
it was spring,
and it was the saturday before easter,
an aunt selling flowers on the sidewalk in the voivodeship park
she pointed out to us: - what a lack of education,
look at them, wet and without common sense
and respect, they kiss in the eyes of the world
today, on a easter saturday,
today's youth is  in disarray,
(she looked around seeking consolation, approval from passersby)



he was the lover that every woman carries within her from birth,
he caressed not as if he longed to be satisfied as a skilled lover,
he was soft and tender as a little kitten,
all he wanted was to stay inside her forever: without getting lost,
without taking up space, silent, without demands, pretensions wanted to stay there like a zygote,
a single cell resulting from the fusion of gametes,
without mouth, without eyes, lips, nose,
just  an embryo with a large forehead
which began the life cycle immediately after fertilization
and continues to weave the organs, the body (like when the bees  build the hive)
to mix life, the light that passes only through her womb.



he suddenly jumped up and down:
- this must be the realm between heaven and earth,
he started telling me everything he remembered,
yes everything
it was as if he was rolling like a snowball towards his own center

I wish,
I can stop the night,
and wait for you,
when the day comes,
with cheering songs,

I wish,
I can stop the day,
and wait for you,
when the night falls
and stars kiss your lips,

I wish,
I can stop the light
chasing darkness,
and wait for you,
in the home of Gods,  

I wish,
I can stop this life,
and wait for you,
when my heart is a new,
in every birth to come,

I wish,
I can stop time,
and wait for you,
when our souls meet
in the Elysian Fields,

I wish,
I can stop the sea,
and wait for you,
swimming in the mystical
waters of eternal love.

I stand on my two feet and

I refuse to take this world seriously,

Be a follower, and be their believer,

I Refuse,

Persuade me - force me -
 - I  stubbornly refuse to take this world seriously,

I do have the right to refuse -at least -

- Do not judge me!

We don’t need more eyes to see
and more ears  - we don’t need deeper holes in our heads to better hear,

I won’t run away,

I  use my right - I Refuse to be a clown

a cocoon of silk
nights are heavy but fertile
from which the sun rises

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

Lives inside your story!

Let go of distancing yourself from the parts of yourself that you believe they don’t fit in.

Let go of pushing yourself outside your own story.

The sense of worthiness lives inside you!

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

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

just wondering,
while gravity takes over
pulling
the earth
strongly
into denser
layers
underneath is
happy
the cooler
the hotter
less dense
air
rises
and takes its
place
on top
a phreatic eruption
brings
the juvenile world
to
the surface
Happy,
just wondering

I am thinking to invite you for a cup of tea

      i  imagine how
                            slow
                                    the teapot will boil
                                                              on the stove

the steam will colonize the air in the room ~
                                                          conquer the silent walls

politely
          we’ll sit near the window at the little oak table
will
    support our elbows,
                                    hands ~  the chins,
    face-to-face,
                          like a frozen perfume
                                                            in the air,
reading into each other's eyes
                                                  ~ the dreams

after,
        watching how the leaves are falling
                                                                as if fainting

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

the silence of yesterday
forgot about the wings that caressed the wind,
the wind
also no longer wears the leaves in its hair, - brides lying in the soft grass,
the grass
does not count stars anymore, does not  wash its head in the clouds,
with the thread glued to the ear of the earth, it is listening to the silence after the silence, probably
it will snow tomorrow
slow
&smooth
&white
white, at the edge of the forest, it will snow again, and the bear's tooth
stuck in the trunk of a tree will again give birth
  two or three bears helpless, furless and
blind,
but
it won't be a problem, nursing them until the second spring
they will grow very very fast
as always

nature”s most precious gift
we all have a love affair with it,
and we all know that  sooner or later it will serve us well
in good times and in bad times, it will serve us well
like  an actor that is ready to make a leap into
singing, acting his best role
delivering an oscar  performance to his audience,
&because of it
some of us are stellar performers
no matter what

Greedy mind,
craving everything
and everyone to bow to your will,
as you being the God.

Who made you,
Greedy creature of
empty despair?

Will you ever desire to be unmade?

in the middle of the night, when you can't stand the light of the cross,
let the groan of your body caress the dreams of the water,
with the tears of your fruit,  flood the earth when
your bleached lips untie the prayer of the mind,
and heaven from heaven, - and hell from hell shall cry unto thee
give birth to me, humble delight, let”s build a sacred crown
in the skin of the moon, with red flowers, the baby is born in may,
a broken branch from the stalk of the eclipse, at His mercy, forever,
destiny, lucky star in the mystery of exaltation by words.

like a wind that burns your chest
we did it again
we  did it the same
again
soul made from milk, hold me
cover me
wrap me in your clay
like a lost child weeping in the streets
without villages, cities
without a country
or a mother
born in war
warm me in your nest under the eaves
you know? sometimes you can't be found  anywhere
and even i know we are not from here
and all is fado, - meat in the ditch
grave in the sea
i'm still looking for you everywhere
then
i return to our house in the air
in the air

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"

razor touch
gillette mach3 built with maximum precision
steel on the beard,
the cheek that seeks the skill of the one who
wants to feel the heart in the palms,  
long black night
calling the stars
birds
to taste your color: - scar
leaking in his left eye, like  zoro
you do like to fight
while
she's a larva for you
soft beetle
wingless abdomen that emits light
to give birth to your flight

Be the golden thought,  
made from golden yarn,
in a golden night,
on a golden bed,
from a golden dream,
in a golden life!
~
Find the gold in your story!
Find the courage in your wings!
Be the golden star in your flying dreams!

-  manipulating and twisting your tongue
spinning the head like a frisbee,  
from heavy big words  -  teeth are falling,
falling from the mouth on the asphalt,
-  the lips are cracking, and bleeding  -  burning like gasoline,
-  shrinking shrimps disgusted by the sophistication
of the simple words  acting big,  
-  eyes are popping out from the orbits,
leaving two question marks,  
-  ears  - oh - poor ears, falling down on the shoulders,
too many words to carry on,
-  the skin is not happy either -
squeezing the over expired botox, 

 -  too many words are in power,
hitting the brain, - hitting the brain.

in a drop of honey. meant to be. to be lost.
although. it seems. the moment has passed.
in reunion. the candour of the words touches our breath.
there are not many thoughts to see.
the fateful meeting. shared without being.
during another equally fateful meeting.

you're right. i still wonder where you are.
from whose sleep you are born in blue mornings.
flowing appearance disguised in the bird thrill.

the green eyes. thirsty eyes want you
- greedy seekers for physical existence.
while the heart is a master on the other side of the hours and days.
piling them against the walls of fleeting sleep.

a memento. about how far we have come to forget.
and how much we hold on. on the line of the palms. deviations from the sun's rays. forced into curves of smiles. what breaks the skin. in the flesh. i'm not alone. when it hurts. the gates of heaven open the perplexity.

in bewilderment you remind me. who am i.

if I were to listen to my soul
I would die at this very moment as I write,
the  poem to remain unfinished like a sphinx,

if I were to listen to my soul I would die like the bird that shatters the window with its chest,
-dead,
sleeping in violet flowers,

if I were to listen to my soul I would fly to you like a hawk,

but I don't listen to him, I don't listen to him, and I don't die, and I don't smash windows, and I don't fly,

I drink water, I drink water, and
I am hiding in the grass, waiting for the storm to do it all,

but if I would listen to my soul, alas if I would listen to my soul

~
Born in pain
Driven by hunger
Smouldered by passion
Blinded by love
Swallowed by things
Devoured by fear,
Liberated by death
~
Born again in pain
…

is not about how deep i love you

it is about me, being a little firefly
now resting in the grass

her skin, cast ointment:
prepare me for death, woman,
my darling, you fall
slowly
as a flake fall in my white hands,
do not rush,
come with the torch  and let's light the fountains,
release your aroma slowly,
soothing kindles, fire in the silky miter,
darkness is your cure, sweetness,
i will stay with you from the beginning to the end,
pour yourself into the rings of the hungry belly,
and when the fight between the angels happens,
i will give you  the mana from heaven,
only in her skin do angels speak,
only she knows the language of angels.

-  it was as if we were dressed in shmattes,
hungry and broken,
sometimes from pain, other times from joy,
so hungry
that we began to must each other's blood
scratching our tongues with tufts of straw,
as if we cleaned our impenetrable
like you would  clean the blackburn from the bottom of a shepherd's cauldron,

- we were also surrounded by fire pits,
the tongues of the flames touched you as if they tasted pink salt,
as sheep do it in the winter,
I could see haystacks burning in your eyes,
people lined up with buckets of water
they handed the buckets from hand to hand to  extinguish the fire,
some white birds were drinking the blood from  your lips,

- then the tongues of fire fled from the waters and harnessed  my eyes
they whipped at them,
shouts, screams, cries, children's laughter,
whinny horses, spreading sounds
until we woke up built-in two shores that were sinking at the bottom of the water.

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

In the winter i'll come
I'll come to you in the winter -
                                            In the winter I'll come,
Like a flake, i'll fall in your palms,

In the winter i'll come,
Galloping on the white wind, in my hair, to hold you,
                                    With the horizon waving,

Don't go, don't go,
I will come, don't forget me,
I am lost among strangers,
                            I'll come, wait for me -
Like a tear, i'll drop from the sky
                    to kiss your warm cheeks,

Whisper to me again - eternity,
                                      I'll come, wait for me,
In the winter, i'll fall,
                    Like a flake, i will fall in your palms
I'll melt

The master of the dawn said: - It's strange to be here
on the black lips of the fields, and the evening caught up in between drops,
black trees making me shiver, - Kalos Gheron all dressed up in wet clothes,
blowing hair in the sky and a long beard rooting in the ground,
without cravings and sandals, penetrated by rain, crushed by worries
at the farm, takes the cows to pasture, - the mystery has not left them,
in peace, they ruminate wisely,
the master of the dawn said: - it, also, will snow tomorrow at the fair.

It's morning in the broken smile by tender snow,
heroic, simple, altruistic,
doubtless is sleeping on the branches with the hearing and sight of a partridge,
under the selfish blue sky, a trumpeter improvises,
- the aristocratic fields parade their white robes,
and the deer you saw last night is lying naked on the blind grass,
waiting for the groom in feather flakes to come,
two stars slip in her eyelashes gently whispering:
- down at the spring the lord of heaven cries out to us,
the time to receive the prayer (until dawn) arrives.

The master of the dawn said:- with him, I kindly realize how fear drifts far
and how his fantasy rotates, thaws the mist into white locks, (like a trumpeter playing
outside the scene with extinguished effect) at the call of the stars
the lord of heaven calls us.

I needed a heart and my kind mother gave me one, while caring me on her shoulders through the midnight light, telling me to be brave and that it will serve me well.

I believed with her heart resting in my chest I'll never feel pain, but the pain is there up to now burning grief and regret. I am questioning in tears “Is this pain born from love, or is this love born from pain?”

How can I know?
When I am the child that took Mother’s heart and departed for the promised land without looking back at the baskets of black grapes we picked in our vineyard before me leaving, Mother’s hands squeezing the grapes all alone making the red wine that was served with everyone, but me, at her funeral.
She did the impossible to protect me from grieving. Right now, I wish I can find something I could blame her for.

Mother, you gave me your heart,
I never had so much patience.
it serves me well.

Unread my buried poems
in worldly words of mouth
Unread the drops of water
from spilled ink on the ground

The breath of mouth
You unread when covered
with the dying roses
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
of the mouth

Unread the walls of caves
from tongues of creepy lions
Unread the burning love
when falling on the clouds
In dusty foam unread
Unread the words of mouth

~ your power and money you protect assiduously are not yours, but somebody else’s belongs

~ to those that stay bend in front of the sewing machines, and sweat from morning to night in the rice fields

~ carving out their backs in faith and in prayer, when you are exploiting every inch of their skin in hidden forms of slavery,

~You, wearing  at your ceremonies clothes made by devoted hands waiting for centuries justice to come and kiss their palms with humbleness and forgiveness,  

~while you still keep covering your misery of habit and greed in silk and playing the saver of those that never gave up on fighting against your lost sense of humanity ...

Hannon,
felt superior  to the very nature of all things, and he found a way how to prove it.

“Why staying bound
by humanness,
while I am better
than anyone else”

With his own money,
Hannon bought a flock of birds
and raised them up in a dark place,
very dark place,
teaching them how to sing one song
named “ Hannon is God”,
This is all they’ll sing in the dark.

When Hannon considered
the birds learned the song,
he let them fly free,
believing his own song
“Hannon is God”
would spread everywhere
and would be heard by everyone.

He let them free,
the next moment
the free birds forgot Hannon’s song.

They flew free,
and song their own birdsong
to this day

-  afraid of losing their approval of me -

You can fool me,
I wouldn't know it,

You can hide me,
I wouldn’t see it,

You can blame me,
I wouldn’t hear it,

You can hurt me,
I wouldn’t know it,

You can love me,
I can not fool you,

În the ashes are sleeping the fenix birds
people are waiting for their wings
În the hope to give flight
to the last exhalation

Do you want to know how Brave you are?
Then,
Be curious to know your vulnerabilities.

Courage
is directly proportional to your weaknesses,

if i ever wanted to start over, where would i go:
- i return to the balcony on patrice lumumba street,
on the third floor, i see two ruins around our souls,
modern talking, brother louie is playing,
i wrap myself around your fingers like slimy playdough,
we go home, i see the apple tree in the cemetery, we pick apples:
- let me kiss you on your lips, let me kiss, - we are friends too,
i try to remember what i was looking for among the crosses and owls,
your mother was taking the cheese pies out of the hearth,
it's getting dark, we've put everything together,  waiting for her to fall asleep,
everything that happens, the tray falls and the bread shovel falls from the nail,
deadly silence on the village road, since then
we meet every ten years across the road
speechless, i look at you, you look at me,
father vasile sprinkles holy water, sanctifies the graves.

Won’t earn you what honesty can

sometimes love is like a superficial vein full of varicose,
swollen, twisted,
stretched to unsightly, non-existent,
unbearable
sometimes love is a venous collapse that leads to the reduction of veins
cold-blooded, skilled surgeons, we'll remove it like the longest vein
without the leg being affected,
only the blood that has passed through it will slowly change its course
and the saphena, available, will patch a coronary bypass,
pointing at her with our fingers, we'll shout: look at her, she wears a crown,
she became queen too

*dear, who will turn the blood from your sole to your thigh again
when our love will be only a second-degree relative,