Monthly Archives: May 2012

First Flight


two black eyes are closer
to one another
the closer they are
the farther the world seems
teardrops are useless
under thick mascara purple make-up
many other dark rings are hiding
the two eyes blink dry at once
hoping no one will notice
the more they blink
the emptier the waiting room

two other girls stay shoulder to shoulder
crying their troubles with true tears
the lonely girl looks at them so clearly
wondering if they are noticing her
tightening her dress belt
weighing the heavy suitcase after a sleepless night
before the long distance plane race
a slight dizziness it’s the sign morning is there
and she is lucky to see perfectly
heeding to the announcements
so hard to hear by those with wide opened eyes

either silence or carelessness or teardrops
personal
hidden under make-up
or under a rain of words
the deeper they are hidden
the heavier to pass them
between the others
from one customs area to another
.
.

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , , , | 4 Comments

A Romantic Letter


(Or a clavi-chord fugue)

Once I kept in my palm a rough fruit seed waiting for that crumb of time to spring out mirrored in future waters. Just looking in your eyes stones began to tremble, crevices of eternity appeared. You looked calm as a soft song yet troubled like embers bitter heat. And I looked again, suddenly sloping on melting ice, winds started to whisper as if to break the circle of night. You were a snowflake floating on my breath. I would have wanted you to define me, to call me, because I was like a child without name, that seed would have grown into a winged tree, a moment escaping clockwise order.
Then shadows weighed over my eyes and my hopes sparkled like a flint steel, dissolving at once. Peaceful rains settled dark rings over a transparent, motionless desert. I stopped seeing you, dreams hid in the air and inside rocks, that seed closed its shell. Cool and gentle, ethereal emptiness shaped a statue within myself.
Gradually even the shadows disappeared like dripping arpeggios. Daily questions covered everything with snow. But the trace of difficult steps led to an obstinate memory trapping me in a white silence. Your faraway call was still striking me like the blood forgetting its way until summer tears ended their warm whirl in a frozen sea. I forgot you, the light between us left a feeble abandon gesture through a locked window wing.
And when another morning opened it, I saw at a far distance that first moment enchained by my surprise and your smile. It was a clear blue sky.

Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

If I Were a Wheat Field


When I was a child
I wanted to grow among people
with my words swaying forever
within the ripe wheat breeze.

Dreams gathered like dew
inside cold and clean pitchers
while singing fountains
were stemming from my heart,
barefooted on city streets.
The hours lost
in an abacus without beads
were melting night into day
and day into gray snowfall.

Tears are burning dry
over the vines with sour grapes.
And how I crave
to break this light’s wheat ears
in two, in three…
in pieces I can’t count.

.

Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , | 6 Comments

Chain Reaction


Someone was dragging an iron ball behind his right foot. Someone else was looking at him measuring the length of his pace and the speed of his movements. Another one was combining the figures like a mathematician. Another one was explaining those numbers illogically. The last one was inventing new theories about all of them.
Somewhere else a trumpet was blowing.

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | 8 Comments

The Staircase


the spiral stairs banister is rusty
spiders are hidden in the corners
pigeons hustle and bustle can be heard in the attic
the old plaster smelling like sour cabbage
loses stripe after stripe absorbing autumn mist
through round and small windows

the old man fell asleep early
he played all day long with lotto pieces
counting and shuffling them many times
now he cannot make the difference
between a white and a red poppy on the lapel

the old woman forgot the rum essence flavor
she baked pancakes putting inside a drop of acetone
filling them with one year old quince jam
placing everything on a nickel silver plate
starting to knit again a large brim hat
adorned with strawberries and cornflowers

their grandsons came shaking the staircase
from its foundations
there was much more sunlight at every window
the children whistling in clay flutes
threw away the pancakes to the dog
sharing between them the lotto pieces
and the jam left in the jar

many colored yarn balls rolled downstairs
until they reached the first floor

Categories: My Poems in 2011 | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

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