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

The Provocation on Highway 401/ By Maria Mitea

There will always be a provocation, temptation, elation
Someone inviting you for a fresh breath to take in, and out
when you, the day-to-day maker are driving, loving, or maybe make money
with a hammer in your hand hitting on a red iron.

Hey, you two, and three, five four, or maybe ten, and even thirteen
on a pin-up, or pin down you choose to live in Bohemia, or maybe,
not, or again maybe free love, wanderer, adventurer, or vagabond
with a hoarse voice, will invite you "Going Out West", and change your name.

I am in, even though I don't know what I mean, Please, before I start to write let me park at WalsMart, and my apology if you feel ignored or bored.
I have an important encounter on Wikihead with Tom Waist, intrigued if he meant anatomy or a cut of meat from the leg of a lamb, or maybe he liked to be, or feel in between for the rest that moved in thin blood and sotto voices.

I pulled in, and find out that Tom Waist was born after the ussr famine,
agogy to see what lives in his guts, what a bad habit, "girl! go back and read what's the challenge about." I hold in from searching his words and thoughts that he played on a yellow paper, and think " Hm, he was born after the famine, his music and poetry must've been concocted from hunger starving for life itself."

I click one more time wikihead, and I see that indeed he did all he could do on earth and not only, but he also dug underbelly, living in between starving his audience to tears with his hoarse voice and appetite for art. Then I need him more. I can feel how he invites us all for artistic addiction, and I need him more, on a smartphone, I am digging his music and stumble into the "House where nobody lives", bursting into tears.

There will always be a provocation, temptation, elation
Someone inviting you for a fresh breath to take in, and out
when you day-to-day maker drive, love, or maybe make money
with a hammer hitting on a red iron,

Hey, you two, and three, five four, or maybe ten, and even thirteen
on a pin-up, or pin down you choose to live in Bohemia, or maybe,
not, or again maybe free love, wanderer, adventurer, or vagabond
with hoarseness in his voice, will invite you "Going Out West",
and change your name.

I read again and again, and one more time I listen to a spot fyi " Going Out West", and ask if this was the "voodoo ... , I am gonna make myself available to you" without losing your composure you have your "voodoo" means that brought me back in tears in the "House where nobody lives",

Ones, hey, you two, and three, five four, or maybe ten, and even thirteen on a pin-up, or pin down you choose to live in Bohemia, or maybe, not, or again maybe free love, wanderers, adventurers, or vagabonds with hoarse voices will invite you "Going Out West", and change your name.

Each one sat on a bane rock, facing
how silence installed in the most disabusing way.

It was convenient, and conning ...

yesterday, on the peaks of the noon,
i climbed the ridge of silence, void,
and darkness, to have passed
about three nautical miles
i still was on the west side of the rout,
the boredom was so awake,
that I could feel it biting my patience
with its three relative teeth,
and then from the darkness
snowy peaks of the evening
were coming down on me
the word, God and you.

Some virtual friends,
virtual family,
brothers,
virtual sisters could not find me today: where did you get lost,
do you live in the forest, at the end of the world,
has any catastrophe happened?
the green dot does not appear, you don't blow hearts in the air,
balloons,
the kittens are fewer and fewer on fb:

My dear virtual friends,
dear virtual family,
what can i say or write you,
suppose a catastrophe had happened or would happen,
i think (i'm a human)
what could i write you from all that catastrophe, and how much, and
how, and
whence, and
how could i tell you that i need a glass of water, if i needed one,
how could i tell you that i need a crutch, if i needed one,
who to look for, how to find you, call the ambulance,
firemen,
how
and how much, and where, and
how could i hug you, and
could you hug me??
*
My dears,
don't worry,
i am in good health: i watered the flowers, i walked the dog
i did the laundry (like any other person),
i cooked a lot of food this weekend, like at home
i cooked enough for twenty people,

Don't worry my dears,
i am in good health,
it's just that day today,
i missed people
people,
real
people.

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

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.

your words sway in me
as in a hammock between two trees
embracing their roots
far away from the eyes of the world,
the leaves fluttering in the wind
like two lovers disinterested in kissing,
pale grass longing near the trunk,
waiting for the caressing rain, and me,
trembling like a rabbit at every word you say.

Make me a declaration of love, my dear,
Send me expensive gifts,
Hundreds of camels, or a sphinx with a golden crown on his head,  
Annihilating any ray of light,
You will see how the whole world will collapse around me

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

you nestling in my heart, insatiable thief, childish sigh,

you make me drunk with your lusts that suspend the moment,

you write, … write, … you listen, - the gramophone sings,

under the waltz of roses, I laugh, - I dance - I float - I fly like a bee

I gather you from thorns, from flowers, in the sea breeze I caress you,

I  absorb the honey of your thoughts, I embrace you, I embrace you

I embrace you I embrace you I embrace you… windy breeze,

we float, in the unknown light we die we die

we die, … we die dancing in live poetry, untamed light

you nestling in my heart, and then you make me cry.

You are proud to remember,
while I forget it all.
You know how and when to pick
while I barely depict
that getting lost is not an option.
You hate seeing balloons
floating in the sky,
"ones beyond its limits,
will break into small pieces.
Look how confident I am!”,  
waiting to pat you on the shoulders.
“Great, I can just watch tv”

I didn’t know I was punished.

Well,

an easy one for you to remember puffy.
I am not an overnight oat to make your morning easy.
I am seafoam, whisked by smashed whitecaps and breaking waves blown inland. When you are hardly sea spray ejected in the air.

in a coffee shop
on a little coffee table
two coffee cups waiting
for forgiveness to show up

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

he touched her by mistake,
staggering, almost falling off her feet,
eyes soon enough met,
the light seemed like a piece of mirror
                thrown into them,
                                            shards,
a glassy glow,

    that shine you see sometimes in tears,
on her face as round as a rosy apple,
cheeks high to the sky, the lips careless

he could’ve reached out by accident
to catch her, perhaps, by the waist,
- ask from where she comes,
release her like a veil blown by the wind

We are here,
no matter what, we are here,
and
never stop,

We are here to try and
desire.

If the desire for life is not burning inside your heart
go in the flower fields, lie down in the green grass
deepen your hands în the black earth,
squeeze its juices,
let it drain through your fingers,
meet the sun rising, let it be your guiding light
flow with the waves of the sea, give a hug to someone
and dream, dream, dream ...

After,

if we are tempted, We can try again,
if help is needed, We can help,
We can share, if the heart opens for sharing,
After,
if we are tempted, We can try one more time

all We do here is try ...

like a wind that burns your chest
we did it again
we  did it the same
again
soul made from the mother's milk soul, 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

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

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 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 …

running all our lives

looking for that one person

the person who understands us

When the geometry of sombra
seems to have a life of its own on the world's metamorphic rocks,
the underworld seems so close to my eyes, and annoyance takes shape above believing
it is more intelligent than
I, who can see the train coming from the distance uncertainty won’t
bother impotence resting on earth’s shoulders, and Sleeping Giant can wait forever for the lost sailor.
What a blessing!

I look into the deep earth,
and I have eyes, and I have depth,
I have speed, as I am earth moving through earth from all perspectives, apparently, I think and I know,
but how do I reach there? at Prospect Mira,
I asked auntie Liudmila,
while she was selling sunflowers at
Lyublinsko station, and I was running to catch up my breath beyond the boundaries in which has been conceived, while the worldly murals violate the norms and  “The Idiot” reaches greatness on the Moscow walls silhouettes wrestling on a mortal terrain; his umbra, my umbra. Whose and which, and when? I simplify it down to the breath and keep running. What a rush?

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

~ 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 pray, when you are exploiting every inch of their skin in hidden forms of slavery,

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

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

~ 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 ...

Monako ( meat)
Aebi (water)
Bala ( honey)
Manaketa (corn porridge)
Hunting at night
Zebra
Baboons

A rat is still food,

We don't eat hyenas (they can eat people)

We fear Lions,  
Black mamba ( we cut their head and throw them far away)

The moon?

The full moon is not  good,
Too much light,

Look the baboons are out!!

They smile

dreams

*dreams are of great comfort to the one alive
&
to the one dying

the dawn rises over the forest,
the dawn promised to wait for us
in the eyes of the eagle the drums smile
and dance
eagles jump up, take turns around the lake,
one round, the second  round ... fourth,
the drums hit the sky,
feathers fall off,
smoothly
are falling, and
are kissing the grass, and
are kissing the earth
when the eagles come down and down
with the beak  are catching the fish
from below waters
the thundering sounds swear the waterfall to be combed by the sun
when drummers smolder all year round
like the star of the night,
smolder like coal extracted from the hearts of ojibwe people

i am thinking of you, until when.

when. not seeing you.

i stretch out my hands (like a blind man)
stepping on sounds -
pieces of glass underfoot

keeping you pierced in my heels. until

when. i can't hear you.

i soften your steps with my lips

when. i don't touch you.

i don't touch yourtouch.  

until

i cry

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

I

Once upon a time, on a Monday morning sun,
There was a blue wind in the west Cucabaga Country,
Blowing on a forest road, where the White Horse Girl
And the Blue Wind Boy met holding space for unfurling
Mysteries, everything happening as it has to happen,

II

The White Horse Girl and the Blue Wind Boy lived
In the same neighborhood, he told her all about the winds
and how parallel roads meet on Elephant Hill,
The early morning wind remembered their faces, and
The mailbox waited for the time of delivery.

III

It was a cold day on a mud road, the birds still cheering,
The blue morning wind was the king of the forest,
Running on lovers' hearts like on white horses,
Each holding a song, afraid of turning it on
And listening to it loud, dancing and singing it loud,
So afraid. Instead,
The blue greedy wind took over their feelings.
Wearing winter gloves in September.
Blowing away shoulder stiffness,
Ready to fight with the invisible enemy,
It gave him airs of mystery in disguise.
He loved the early morning wind, and
The White Horse Girl loved him.

IV

Hair blown by the wind, ready to share his song, he arrived,
The weak heart sent him back to his home, and prayed: 'Please,
God, please, help him change his mind and not return.
Look how much madness it is in the air, and the leaves are falling,
This is not a nice day for a romantic walk, not even for a talk,
The strong wind has no mercy, it will break my heart.'
That was the first voice, while the second voice took the lead:
' Oh, God give him the strength not to change his mind,
Take everything and everyone out of his way,
Make his steps fast and light, like feathers flying into the sky,
Bring him back on the white horse. He is my Blue Wind Boy.
It can be windy, and it can rain hard.
There won't be another day.'

V
The dog barked. The back door opened
His spirit walked through The Blue Wind. He returned
With a heroic look on his face, light steps.
My friendly voice whispered: ' He is very brave.
He is your hero ' While the scolding one:
'There isn't any place left for thinking.
You are weak and lost if you let his eyes meet yours.
No one can save you. Don't rely on your dog. '

I felt warm waves moving through my legs,
Imploring 'lift up your gaze from the ground, '
When cold waves shrink my head pushing down
The fighting in my heart, I feel leaning into someone,
A wall or a tree. Forest trees kept looking at me,
  Moving their branches: 'come, darling, come, ...'
VI

It was cold, and wet, on that forest road
We walked side by side searching carefully
For words that haven't been invented.
The wind was the king playing with my skirt,
Holding it tight with both hands wrapped on my legs,
Urging to stay steel and not listen to what I feel;
Love in disguise lures my heart.
I wished that I had another two pairs of arms,
Holding the blouse when the dramatic wind
Pulled out the button. I kept him busy with talking,
About how beautiful it was living in the forest.

VII

Spirits were getting high only walking side by side,
Up, the elephant hill was waiting to swallow our desire.
I showed him a sacred space, where the sun touched my face
When I prayed every day. Up elephant hill,
Lovers were coming in secret at night and burned the fire of love.
He looked at the remnant ashes ' some lovers met here last night '
While I too looked at the aches and answered, ' anything could be possible.'

On the right side, wild ducks started to gossip,
In the little pond frogs quaking, letting us know
They were watching every step and listening to every sound,
' It is a windy day today, and it's cold.'
My voice softened while moving deeper inside,
Hiding behind a sober look. Oh, God,
Help me take down the elation.

VIII

I never was surrendered by so much readiness.
The singing of the birds was sharper than the blue wind,
The leaves danced and cheered in the air,
Everyone was ready for the spectacle to begin,
It was intimidating; leaves had eyes,
Flowers started talking with each other,
My feelings were greedy like squirrels eating now
And storing for later, for the winter, and any bad weather;
My heart was hungry like a wolf, wishful devouring the prey.

I could feel he was looking at me,
I could hear his long face saying,
'I dream of playing with your hair.'
The wind was getting mad, and fearless.
Like a forest fighter, he was ready to protect the garden
And destroy the misbehaving eyes caressing my hair.
He pulled those gloves in.

IX

Shortly the rain came putting on us a calm shy breeze,
I was prepared for a rainy day, he was ready for the winter snow,
I feel a boothole, on the left side,
'Boothole' was the word I learned from him,
I was happy when he asked, ' is your foot wet.' So naive,
With every careful step, we take time, holding on to every breath
Soon the sun smiled again at the end of the road,
No trees standing on our way, me and him,
With no words waiting on the lips,
With sudden humility soft grass flattened on the ground,
When the earth was running high, and hearts flew into the clouds,
He implored: 'Look into my eyes
The thunderlight started.

X

A warm rain walked us back to the house.

Faster steps took us down the hill. When passing by the little pond,
Daffodils opened their eyes, and the ducks quacked in disappointment:
'What a waste of time.'
We entered the bright forest meadow.
'Come, I'll show you where ducks live, swim, make love,
And quack all day long' The little pond was waiting for us.
Naive delight. Like a thief, he wrapped his arms around me,
Stealing a kiss.
I run away. He comes. Tears come. It was cold.
The blue wind grows furious and strong.
He pulled out his gloves.  We hold hands. Tears come
In our eyes. Tears fall on his burned hand. Hands touch.
Our hands kissed in the rain.
Our hands kissed in the rain, and the rain kissed back our hands.

(Suddenly I think: 'He can't burn twice. I don't want to burn.
I don't want to burn.')  
'I am cold. Let's go inside the house. I'll make a tea.'
I felt for mundane noise and no more mystery.

XI

We walked quietly, and soon entered the house that was waiting
for the two lost kids returning from 'where the white horses come from
and where the blue winds begin.' The home was friendly and warm,
embracing the blue morning wind, the song, and the kiss of the two lost kids …

'You have a beautifully clean house. Yes, It seems beautiful'
Answering fast while holding tight on stainless steel ***.
He leaned on the kitchen wood, crossing his arms.
Ready for an adult conversation. I busy myself as if I can't find the sugar.
I think. What if I poured too much water.  I found the honey.
It felt as if boiling two cups of water took forever.

We sat at the table. Two cups of tea and the white tablecloth looking at me.
Looking at him.Taking turns listening to words coming slow.
Carefully not disturbing the shinning floor, me crossing my feet
Under my seat, sitting together, and talking to each other he said:
'That's where the blue winds begin,
It would take years and years to ride them on the blue waters'
She listened and said: ' I See! The white horses also come from far away.
So far away, farther than the blue waters and the blue sky.'

XII

Everything happened as it had to happen,
The early morning wind believed and remembered,
Where the White Horse Girl and the Blue Wind Boy met
and lived as neighbours, he told her all about the early morning wind,
and the night sky wind, and the wind of the dusk between,
the wind that asked him questions and told him to wait.

The house walls interrupted the conversation: 'It is late,
He has to go home' He looked into my eyes and asked:
'Runaway with me.' 'It is late, you have to go'
Our heavy bodies stand up slowly from the table
And the cups implored me to go. I opened the back door.
The strong wind was taking him. The door closed fast.
I burst into tears of despair. I cried and hugged my knees.
I know this morning has no return.

XIII

I received so many messages the day before
The night before, and the morning before,
Even more, signs of delusion appearing at every corner:
The spirits were hiding in the forest,
Sunshine dance and every smiling flower,
Witnessing our first meeting on the blue loonies lake,
Where loons perpetuate their offspring every new spring.
'We were not the only one darling,
Was this nature's complot or spirits desire
For loons to meet and dance in the blue wind fire
And sing their song of calling love on the blue waters,
Sun shining so bright fooling us into delude,
Despair running on white horses? '

XIV

I run outside. I saw his back and heavy walk.
'I want to go with him where the blue winds begin,
and where the white horses come from.' The mailbox moves
And gives me the letter, I read: ' To My sweetheart,
You have to wait now for the night sky blue wind, and the blue wind in the dusk, when it is neither night nor day. They will understand.
Keep your heart for us while I am gone.

With love the Blue Wind Boy

XV

It's been a while since the White Horse Girl has been waiting for the Night Sky Blue Wind and The Blue Wind in the Dusk to come, …
It came last night.
...

(Va Continue)

I feel
the burn in my chest,
as the sunny dream chops its edges
I run happy warming up in La vita è bella,
while the soles of my feet are burning
into the dark earth. Who cares? only
into the dark earth roots grow,
all lilac is still there at the Moscow Metro, while illusion succumbs to temptation running faster and harder,
the underworld has a life of its own,
a life of greater depth and purity, while
my eyes touch the cold striking murals, and
the book falls on the
Whisper

to catch the rain on the grass crown,
bring the light closer
when
hides behind the horizon:
we also need sunset
arranging his collar,  like the lion's-mouth flower,
she looks at his chest as it rises up, down,
touches his face, soft fingers glide,
antarctica is just an ice cap,
beneath her springs flow, mountains sleep:
we must have a coincidence of floating clouds
like steam
humidity as far as embracing the desert,
calm storm,  leaves
the birds return to the nest:
- and that's all we need?

and look at the moon, see how it swallows its shadow,
to remain still until dawn appears
carolers of your *******
on my forehead
the sweat
with a thirst for death
to bury
at the root
of the grass blade
the sleeplessness

When the orchestra begins to play
serene melodies eternally free,
drifting over gifts of hypnotic beauty,
lifting you out from the depths of the sea,

A triumphant entry rises the curtain,
and the fantasy-overture starts its story,
as wondrous morning celebrates passion
striking heart chords with fresh glory,

Waves of the sound wash over thee,
as tempo rubato steals beats of free rhythm,
giving birth to vibrant embellished pearls,
preserving the virtuoso’s flawless gift,  

Violine pleading into the waltz of roses
rhythmic freedom mingling  harmonic trills,
dazzling whirlwinds diffusing tasteful fragrance
carried by fairy tales over hills,

Dreamy melodies slip under the gateway,
hummers striking piano strings
broken chords accompanied by murky
nocturnal interlude, where words cannot fit,

Unnoticed by the virtuoso’s glistening tears
witnessing in silence mesmerizing
sounds that would never be held
in-time at the discretion of the soloist,

Lost halfway in the ebullient coda,
and musing under the canopy of the stars,
glittering gold blazing display of bravata,
entering their kingdom in discrete contrabass,  

When the orchestra begins to play
serene melodies eternally free,
drifting over gifts of hypnotic beauty,
lifting you out from the depths of the sea.

a knock on your door

  open the door

tonight the presence returned

let the steps lead you to the other side of the door

make your way
trough the light of rocking branches, nursing little buds
in the distance
the snow caresses their sleep
the wind
from time to time
is shaking the remnants of fright

  shards of crystal on the floor

between
no and yes

when you hear a knock on your door

open the door

consider the invitation

it's unfair to hate the morning
- it's unfair to hate,
because
neither the new nor the old
after burning the night
this day does not return in vain,
this day is a good day to be: a leaf
scribbled by the blue of the sky,
green sprawling on the ground, the sea
turned upside down (steam hanging from the sky
mornings), - today i woke up
with all colors of mine caressing  the faint frost on the top of the grass,
dressing up for the winter, wood and smoke rodents,
- to lighten up  the agate eye
i did not  forget the summer flowers either,
colored dust and water
"holi diwali", smiles in clay lanterns, lost kiss in rangoli
- ah, darling,
do not forget,
this day is a good day to be your favorite color,  like
the color of the sky,  of the sun,  earth, or grass ...

when you watch the shadow crawl from the floor to the wall,
a branch falls,
the dawn crushed in the palms fades,
the spiral of smoke despairs of its own act,
not to enter your sight, moves aside,
evolution worked on these blue eyes for millions of years, no joke,
you follow every move
like a spy
the shadow returns:
- be wild again, dive into the green water
sunlit,
with the arrow in the back,
call your arms, shout, swim,
she is a tide in the chest,
just a tide,
the moon an ellipse end, a chain,
it spins around his axis
like a hub,
the waters break the sky, bleed between the thighs,
innocence lets us see the valleys beneath her feet,
don't let your lungs melt into smoke like a forgotten spring
out of air,

like grass,
tender and gentle
the spring draws its life from the graves,
out of mourning,
that's why the murmur resembles a cry,
a sigh,
and thirst,
hunger,
and the river smooths the stream,
and the wind settles on your cheek, waits
a feather to fall on your head,
in the abyss
waiting for you to look at the sky, amazed, to ask: - who is hitting me,
who hits me every time i try to find solace,
refuge,
serenity,

when you watch the shadow crawl from the floor to the wall,
the murmur elevates any escape to the rank of genius

it is snowing

slow
monotonous snow
with the patience of a lazy bear
it falls
across the church (now, an antique shop)
on the left, the abandoned house, tonight, wishes
may she also be seen by the stones, like a miner
has a light on its forehead,
in front of our house, the bulb lights burn  and
are in competition with the farm on the hill,
the snow settles comfortably on every single  tree,
I wonder,  scientifically, how much snow can a tree hold,
but some twigs?
I pray for the snow  to keep falling,
the roofs, you  would say, are kufi hats thrown from the sky,
we don't know when it will snow again,
the world is gossiping: global warming, the earth is heating up,
I think it's the other way around, the sky warmed up again
and the earth is cold
cold,
as if embalmed to stop its decomposition

*

the sky, as usual
sacrifices itself

it is snowing  white-gray

snowing

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?

dream in the night breeze
tell me
who
who crushes our cries
who keeps us on our knees

dream in the night breeze
look into my eyes
touch my lips with promises
promise me to hold me in your arms

promise me

i will plant for you a forest in the desert
to be able to shout at me
the echo to knock on every door
and ask
how to have you

- clearwater how to drink you

this loneliness is needless
the roads are superfluous
even the rain is a stranger
an intruder
it can leave
it can leave
to leave us
to leave us alone
to leave us in the lust of madness

let it be the day when we are grassroots  growing in soil
let it be the day when we are water in the riverbed
mysterious light
a whisper in the creed

you are all I have
you are all I have in my heart

when do you come?

Who Told You

You call again, and you talk endlessly
In this house, we spend many nights
Night after night, night after night
You tell me that you are mine
Now you left first, stay where you are,
Do not call me, do not ask

Why you call, who tolled you
That I miss you
Who told you that I love you
Your shadow follows me
like a spell running after me,
running after me
after you left,

How many time I have to tell you
We are the unfortunate one,

Stop calling me, stop talking with me
My home is not your home
I want to forget, I want to
Forget your voice, there is nothing
Nothing we can share,

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

You made love feel so beautiful,
so wonderful, and so difficult to have,
when all is left is burning hope,
when all is felt is pain and despair.

and the days seem lightless,
and the nights are darkless,
and the dreams are dreamless,
carrying it higher and higher.

waiting for the september leaves to fall,
waiting for the rain dressing in snowflakes,
waiting for the wildflowers to grow
in between jagged rocks perennial love.

Why God,
When spring comes love’s back in the sky?

that's right, I like rats.
I like them because they're not fussy
They don't turn their nose and they eat anything:
they don”t wonder if it's healthy, organic, ...

- They're not like moths either,
eating only furs, wool, natural silk,
rats eat plastic or chew gum,
the incisors grind
without grinding their teeth
during the day,
or at night,

- they adapt  easily in any home,
it doesn't have to be luxurious,
in the country or in the city,

- when moving to a new home
the first thing they do, - they multiply as quickly as possible,
conquering new territories,… they are many, "where there are many… there are many"

- I really admire rat women,
after giving birth seven times a year, the males abandon them
without leaving a note, a letter or alimony,
and they become  strong, durable, ready for the hole life,

- I also admire the intelligence of the rat male
they understood well how not to turn nature into whining,
"what doesn't **** you strengthens you"

- it is fascinating how the large one are the heads on sewers and basements,
and the little one are the bosses on ceilings and roofs,

- roof rats are named climbers,
astrologers, looking at the stars and moon,
writing poems,
composing music,
cooking like Ratatouille,  climbing,
climbing now, as you read,
climbing on the window of your room,

this is it, not my fault that I like rats
because they're not fussy,…

Showing care to the land that we grow crops and food,
Showing care and love to the waters we drink and swim,
Showing care and respect to the air we are breathing,

Why it is so hard?

-  afraid of losing their approval of me -

When the night falls,
and no one’striking with an eye,
My restless horses rove
with the wild Siberian winds,
Their whinnying voices call me,
Voices call me, and I scream!

Slowly, Slowly, my horses!
Do not fly into the wild winds,
Please! Slowly, don’t you see,
I didn’t have time to live!      

Understand me, my horses,
Let me sing! One more song!
Feel my deepest yearning,
for you and for the lost time.

For no time to laugh,
and for no time to cry,
For no time to love,
and no time to touch a
weeping heart.

Please! Listen, my horses,
Do not hurry! Voices call me,
Oh, how you can ride so fast?
Follow my solace in y’footsteps,
Ride on my waters, and
I’ll drink y'golden promise.

Take me on your winter sleigh,
Amble along, dance your shyness
in the wildest Siberian snow flurry,
and I’ll sing you my only song,
“I am not a prisoner.”

Let me sing! One more song!
and I’ll bring’y the apple from heaven,
and I’ll kiss you one last time,
when no one hits with an eye.

Carry me my dear horses,
Slowly, like this, Slowly, please!
When no one hunts in the sky,
and the hungry wind’s blindsight.

Please! My horses,
Slow down, Slow, Slow down,
I am loosing my powers,
and I didn’t have time to live! 

The show comes to the end,
and I can’t hear you galloping,
and I can’t see your cavalcade,
the show comes to the end,
and I lose your reins in the wind.

Please! My horses,
slow down, move slow, listen,
Please!
I didn’t have time to live!