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Nov 2018 · 140
sharp your hand
Something rises in the evening sun
as it's touching the roof of my sky.
And I wonder, how would it be
your sharpened hand above the sea
to stretch my heart once more on thee
and simply melt it by your beam.
Sep 2018 · 251
may our hearts melt the ice
If I were the winter which would freeze your soul
I'd turn your tears into the very icicles
wherewith I'd raise a 'till the Sun monument
just to warm you with soft rains where I shall swim
and I'd even drown myself,
for the spring that came.
Aug 2018 · 165
shouting out loud
shout your war
and I'll train myself into the soldier
your army shall never have.

shout your love
and I'll get dressed with the very coat
within the war shall never be.
Jul 2018 · 489
The choice
There are rumours above the city of lights
that its light might turn on the very night,
and their fangs shall glorious glance within the dark
obviously ready to fight, as they surely might.
May 2018 · 166
my eyes are getting burnt
by the beams of the sun,
and I'm blinking...

my legs are crossing the desert
and the beams are everywhere,
and I'm blinking...

my heart is seeking for night
and its dark remains in soul,
and I'm blinking...

as I'm blinking through the desert,
through the beams and through the dark,
what the sand I sail astray,
what the blaze I make it dust...
Mar 2018 · 163
Near the desert
What burden thy mind could be
if you spread out your origin,
and what grief shall you gain on thee
if the desert you made shall bring it's mean.
I hope you all will understand the message I'm trying to express.
Feb 2018 · 204
Me, My Mind and I
Here we stand together deep
Me, my mind and I,
Still I seek my grief to weep
In those depths of breathing lie.

We do feel the feral fear
Me, my mind and I,
Where my mind’s trying to clear
Our ciclic bis deny.

We stare beauty in the depths
Me, my mind and I,
They’re compelling me to breast
All my feelings’ passing by.

So we teach ourselves to feel,
Me, my mind and I,
And my heart’s startin’ to fill
With the tears of the cry.

Then we see the light in sky,
Me, my mind and I,
One in run, one in deny
While my tears started dry.

‘til the light they still kept beating,
Just my mind and I,
Now they’re hurt and they are bleeding
And die.
A battle inside my body.
Jan 2018 · 236
The Calling
Mother, mother;

Give me eyes to see a world
Where my heart becomes that bold.

Mother, mother;

Give me ears, to hear my foes
While they talk within the wolves.

Father, father;

Give me strength to can at least
Mock them back with their own fists.

Brother, brother;

Keep me safe to can grow up
And smash them all to help your nap.

Sister, sister;

Give me hug to feel the love,
That shall help me to lead the gov.

Jesus, Jesus;

Give me hope to see the better
And to love the human feather.
Jan 2018 · 286
The Colectiv Tragedy
We all know
That we shall fade
First, we grow
And hope for late.

You saw dozens people
Singing last beside your art,
And behind there was the reaper
Waiting for the final taunt.

Not for long
Your souls were ardent
And their faces
Were so glow
And not because the fire's advent
But because the lyrics' known.

Your music told us that
There's no life without the art
No give in, that was the story
And you felt your lyrics glory.

You were fighters, I admit
Fighting souls, against the lit
And your lyrics don't fit
With your bodies in the pit.

And the fire, after all
Was the unmerciful goal
And the reaper near the wall
It was death, beneath the soul.
I wrote this poem to show my respect for those who died in the Colectiv Tragedy in Bucharest, 30 Oct. 2015. It was a black day where more than 100 people died in unmerciful flames. We will always remember you!
Jan 2018 · 246
The Locked House of Yours
"even the most ironed door can be opened"
he said: "maybe I'm not the key you were looking for, but I'm the key you need"

behind plenty-ironed door
there's the carpet streched on floor
and the door itself it's locked
trodden by the savage cold.

but inside it is as cold
as the man forgot the hearth
and there's nobody too bold
to fulfill the chimney's glow.

on the walls I see your pictures
memories with your belonged
with their wings against our curse
fainted down, when the time have bonged.

from outside I see a ruin
a poor house ready to fall
and I hate that you're not doin'
and refuse your only call.

back inside, I see the carpet
outstretched down, being still trampled
by your once beloved and left
it is ******, without a hope
triggered by your burdened rope.

near the pictures stands the clock
counting down your priceless life
with your mind against your soul
so's the hollow 'gainst the whole.

why you keep your ironed door
locked up, fallen in knees
with your carpet
burdened on the floor
when the-entire house still seek
for your own evanesced keys?
Jan 2018 · 275
The Story of a Proud Pawn
Near the river
Flowing down,
Against the forest
Is its pawn.
And he is feeling
Not alone,
But he is carrying
Up his crown.
And in spite
Of his own will
It becomes night
And he feels ill.
Then the crown
Started to hurt,
He fell down
Weeping alone.
Then he touched
His burdened head
And he screamed
With his demand.
Then the forest
Raised against
Watching away
And too sad.
Then he saw
A million eyes
Watching him
And no one tries
To make him feel
No more afraid.
But there is still
Someone who cares
Who can stop his illness
And his denies.
But there's the crown
Pressing up the pain
And the pawn is falling down
Then he feels forsaken,
Then the girl in front of him
Who kept the secret 'bout the win
Called his name and near knelt,
Told him not to tight the belt.
'Cause the crown he's wearing now
It's the poison of his mind
And the pain he feels did grow
Represents his own mankind.
Where the autumn
Crossed beyond,
There's the winter
With its sound.

And into the foggy holt
There's the earth waiting for long
And the cloudy charged sky
Broke the air and started cry.

And he doesn't water anymore
With liquid drops coming across.
Then the speed started to slow
And from now we see the snow.

Dancing sluggish in the air
Charging up the atmosphere
We can see billions of white
Pleasing up our little sight.

And into the covered ground
Against the cold, against the sound
There are flowers tilted down
Waiting for winter's uncrown.

And the earth itself it's cold
And the pale sun it seems too bald,
Without it's rays of warming season's cold,
So the light falls in season's tomb.

And in spite of all their harm
And the world's falling down,
All those flakes are still in air
Coming down at the first tier.

So the view of ruthless snow
It's the hell of artic glow
And instead of melting ice
There's the whiteness of boundless size.
Jan 2018 · 272
Wild, forsaken flower
"you cannot hide from world"
he says:
"the world is everywhere"

between million colored bunches
under colored boundless sky
there you lay behind your fences
too afraid to cross it by
your heart, is in chains
and not because your wilderness
but because of your faded blaze.

and, in desert, where you lay
you're alone, as if you say
all this sand is lonely too
made from one
no more than two.

here you blame
your eternal forsakenness
and you have drown
the sand forgiveness.
you're alone, but maybe why?
in this coldness, desert dry
where your stain's beneath its glamour
and your soul stretched by behaviour.

and the world it's made of sand
fulfilled by her baked ground
where you lay behind your garden
blaming her for your own scandal.

so you see
the boundless desert
with its sand,
outstretched and
feeling its bay.
but instead
of carrying mountains
when he knows that he shall fail,
he is here,
approaching cereals,
making love
and endless sail.

and the sorrow you have made
hiding just behind your fence
you should know that you shall fade
if you'll still lay in your own trance.
Jan 2018 · 493
Endless Waters
"you can't fill my heart"
he says:
"I'm an ocean"

beneath the blue-clear sky
it is my heart
fulfilled with dreams
and no more dry.

and in the sea
as you come far, deep and deep,
I tell you now:
you cannot be
my final drip.

and how can you seek
my heart to clip?
if I'm everywhere
so I am here, my dear.

— The End —