Posts Tagged With: feelings

working day shirt


my body like a bugle
I listen
to the hot sea rolling over sand
to the sky sticking to earth like a mellow pumpkin
with all its stars

far and away
high over this mud
gathered under the soles as big as a mountain
there is my country
the place where I can put my finger on warm bread
on the star from the stag’s front
on the bell’s rope in the old church

from sunset towards sunrise
I too I become whiter
deep into my bones
along with this only sun
always full circle
bound to be turning around my house
as if it were the world’s beginning now

Categories: My poems in 2013 | Tags: , , | 2 Comments

One of Us Is Crying


I feel so guilty, my dear friend.
Like you, I am an honest person,
I will tell the plain truth this time,
begging you on my trope knees to forgive!
I did what all my brothers did.

Forgive my wild imagery, my baroque chain of metaphors,
my desert without flowers and all my singing out of tune!
Look what I did, open your eyes above your grass roots world.
I made you waste your pristine love,
your timeless memories, your treasured moments.
I drowned your life in despair. I was so lame my friend,
unable to shine brighter, to gather readers for your words
to understand your real feelings.

I’m a heartbreaker, I’m ashamed.
No one looked closer in my eyes
to see how many sleepless nights, headaches or smoking abuses
I made you go through,
only because you trusted me, believing I’ll be good for others.
And the few who read me condemned you
since I wasn’t beautiful or attractive for them.

Hell over me! You thought about paradise islands,
your solitude, Robinson Crusoe’s Bible,
white fairies hiding inside cherry trees…
I am the one to blame. I was too greedy to express it all.
Your feelings were forget-me-nots,
I was a voracious weed killing those flowers one by one,
a poisoned mistletoe climbing your tree of wonders.

Do you remember when you ceased bringing life
to my brothers, the other poems?
Weren’t you happier those days?
I don’t call you mom, it is too late for that and I am guilty
for all your poetry dreams or harsh realities, my woman-poet.
I drained your Milky Way full of newborn stars.
I made you feel weak and despised.

Please take it easy, open your eyes,
forgive me.
Leave me.

Categories: My poems in 2013 | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

Compulsory


they have exiled me
in a city with glass pavements
from my yesterday remained
only expired oxygen
I’m breathing rarely from the depths
like a diver
only through a mask
anyway no one recognize me
neither do I

people carry one sun ball
instead of their heart
they walk on tiptoes
unwinding little by little
entangled threads behind them
forgotten words in the Tower of Babel
feelings in a big kneader

I’m stepping from knot to knot
with naked soles softening
crumpled by too much heat
like newborn wrinkles

I started to talk in my mind
learning the deaf alphabet
my shadow abjured me
she stays hung without tongue
on the Pole Star

not even she can remain here
still and nailed

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Clockwise Order


Working hard with my heart
denouncing its transitory tick-tock,
decorating it with artificial flowers,
keeping the hope linked to its fibers,
stopping the fancy arrhythmia,
postponing the boredom infarct.

While luckily
I wasn’t a magician.

.

Categories: My Poems in 2008 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Scorching


do cover my sleep with stones
you stranger in a blue coat
if you have a light touch
they will become hearth baked bread
round between shoulders and hips

my life is a hot oven
as long as I will sleep the dough will be softer
slowly it will froth again
I will be just a salt grain in the middle
kneaded inside

don’t ask for my name
don’t wake me up at any cost
don’t cry if you will hear me whining
like a baby in a trough
I will vanish within the boiling leaven

keep your tears safe
you must have the heart to liquefy
that small bead of yeast
left in the end

Categories: My Poems in 2011 | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.