Ana Mocanu: Poems

Jul 2020 · 139

In defense

Ana Mocanu Jul 2020

Tell me about your joys, and pains,
about the days you’ve missed your trains
or about those you’ve missed the sense
of what’s important, in defense
of what is not; and what you did
when time did nothing but to grid
all your tight, imprisoned thoughts
as if were haunted by a curse
of millenary, empty words
of those who said what should have not…

Tell me about your joys, and pains,
and how you’ve tried to catch your trains...

Jul 2020 · 142

Amicitia

Ana Mocanu Jul 2020

Amicitia

It’s like the life’s tree planted in your heart;
That grows so slowly, not to harm the veins
That grows so quiet, not to hear its pains
But loud enough to let you know is there.

Its roots are strong, as they are filled with trust
Its flowers… all bloom honesty and hope
And gives, and takes, and spreads just love;
Might miss a way, but it never gets lost.

Jul 2020 · 108

I'll wait.

Ana Mocanu Jul 2020

I'll wait.

So if you tell me that there's nothing there
beyond the clouds of dust in one’s despair

Or if you tell me mountains can forget
the feet of man who walked them, step by step

So if you tell me oceans haven’t met
the tragedy of waves that keep unrest

Or if you tell me birds can chitter wise
at times when crying all of their despise

So if you tell me there’s no sense in how
love sets us free of any deprived vow

Or if you tell me one has never faced
the agonies and fears to forget

I’ll think again the mysteries of life
for then I’ll wait
until they raise me to their rise.

Jul 2020 · 95

Carousel

Ana Mocanu Jul 2020

Carousel

Life’s like a carousel that never stops.
It spins in a circle, round and round
Your days gather colors of what is around
Your past… just an echo of all that got lost.

You pick what you can; you get down and choose
But don’t choose too much, fearing not to lose.
You scream of despair when missed your turn
And sudden’ a light takes you back in raw.

It's then when you know for sure, and for all
That life’s, above all, a carousel of hope.

Jul 2020 · 136

Drink from a rainbow

Ana Mocanu Jul 2020

Drink from a rainbow

Today seems just fine
to drink from a rainbow.
To pour thoughts in colours
that shine above shadow
to walk them backwards
the time’s request
for that lifetime’s protest
that’s been empty of conquest.
To dance on its edges
get freed from revenges
that disturbed the spectrum:

Idyllic momentum!

Today seems just fine
to drink from a rainbow…

Jul 2020 · 97

A swan's tale

Ana Mocanu Jul 2020

A swan's tale

One day, at the shore of a lake,
where only dreams can dream someone to take
a swan came by my side
to conversate.
She was so close, her elegance could read
my love for it.
She was so keen to speak…
I asked her how she’s been
and how it feels to float
in loneliness, in doubt,
in love, in happiness,
in dare, or in regress.
She turned her gaze upon the pond
and trusted me to understand her word.
There is no loneliness my lake cannot caress
there is no doubt a pond cannot suppress
there is no wave that hasn’t met regress…
and if there is, like static waves,
is to behold my floating
or hold on to my dreams
is to learn to forgive
or to mischievously, yet unintentionally,
to dare to love, to long for, or impress
for happiness.

Jun 2020 · 105

A Poem of (non)Sense

Ana Mocanu Jun 2020

A Poem of (non)Sense

Time cheats
minutes play
the world’s display.

Life beats
the rhythms of my heart
~ a rhapsody.
It goes astray,
risks its confusing game
but... no delay.

Words fight their legacy;
~ ecstatic tragedy
with no eulogy.

The gaze of sky is shy
not knowing why;
~ a child’s eye.

Some windows are cemented
like thoughts when tormented
like hearts left unmended…

Magic loses its story
in the Face of Glory.
Glory ~ half of the story.

Some trees are so high
like humans seem
before they lie.

Languages fade
when we connect:
~ a superficial tie.

Confidence’s like a fortress
the higher its walls
the deeper its foundation
the stronger its reasons
the threatening the weapons…

Betrayal has no shame;
resisting memories
~ a touch of pain.

If envy’d be a poem
lyrics would eat themselves.
How would the world, then, look like?
~ a poem of nonsense.

— The End —