My Poems in 2009

Cold Spring


In the early mornings
leaves hearts are sacrificed
cold cherries are turning red
fresh grasses toughen
left by dew drops
as usual

Stones grow or lessen on the road
through each rain
notched wooden blinds close
or open still green
behind every shady wall
sleeps an old doll in its cradle

I walk with my straight back
among frozen flower buds
wrapping my front and my waist
in unwoven veils of fortune
reversely

I hide a cold spring
waiting for wild wheat to sprout
under all these

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Sunset Stars


The mountains are calling
for newborn spring waters
to grind smoothly
their hearts of stone.

The forest is sparkling
in its mirthful leaves
like sacred towels wiping off
the sunset’s rusty glow.

I took my words out,
brought them to the watermill,
my eyelids got whiter,
losing their pulse.

Through wide open eyes,
frozen at once,
a star’s deep light reached me
like a breeze.

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Waving Goodbye


Walking the line
between sky and earth,
sand waves disappear
falling in the desert,
like a goodbye sign
from a distance
yet so near.

I’m wandering
under rain and shadows,
dioptral numbers grow
trying to decipher signs,
barren little stones
in a labyrinth
always round.

It is obvious I waited for you
until mountains and winds
understood to make peace
and we were reborn
in separate seas.

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Velocity


The train whines on its rails,
cornflowers wither
in a deserted small station.
Someone has built a road nearby
twining like vines
between walnuts and hazels.

The travelers rest in the shade,
cyclists fall asleep on handlebars,
horse-drawn wagons loiter in dust,
old songs are hummed once again
near the freshly plowed stubble field.

The road expends its transitory prints
slowly and painstakingly
in this age of velocities
aiming different directions.

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Ecological


Automatic doors and stairs
Suffocate the boulevard
Eroded by laryngitis.
Cars are puffing hot
A dry cough
The trees wash away the slag
Dripping on heart shaped leaves.
Red headlights
Roll like mill wheels
Falling heavy in our stomach.
Traffic indicators flash
Fog warnings
Like early spring sneezes.
All engines are rattling
Linked one to another
In a row of seashells.
And over the entire beach
The sun is setting down
Orange and soft.

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