Posts Tagged With: old

Amid odds and ends the grass is green

If you want to watch again some camcorder pics and old pics from the village of my grandparents, flourishing in my childhood, deserted and ruined in 2009-2011 when I wentr there. Who knows where the time goes? Some new families moved there in the past years. i warn you: it is too long and I have other better pictures, but on the hard disk of my computer that broke…these ones were on facebook, some are duplicated.

once upon a time

and this is the youtube videoclip/ slideshow:

Categories: Memories | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The elusive butterfly

the house mouse squeaks under the heavy wardrobe
crumbs are falling
from grandpa’s black pipe
the whipped cream ice cream is dry in the compote bowl
the clock fell behind with a couple of polar nights

not I
I didn’t care for old things and I seldom dreamed to taste
carob beans to my heart’s content
rag dolls don’t smile but they laugh
their mouth stretched
double stitched with thread
it is a word too big for a three years old child
I forgot three years ago how much I loved from this world
I don’t forgive what’s left for me
that triangle in a circle vanished under my eyelids
traveling stars race
between my lungs’ alveolae

before falling asleep
it gets always cold
the postman rings the way he did when I lost my address
where the world had forgotten me
this is something new
the history still repeating itself
in place of the best gift

Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

A Hibernal Corrida

I stretched crisscrossed laundry wires
on my memory canvas
I’m watching the movie through the washing machine’s porthole
a gray helter-skelter
swollen like a castrated ten year old cat

clamped one by one in wooden pegs
black and white mice are swinging
like the first Mickey Mouse cartoons
the wires stretched to the limit spread water drops
the snow on the Tesla TV screen
whispers children good night

not everything can be washed
I pulled the ghosts by the hair
bed sheets gone yellow burned with cigarette ashes
where black days and white nights lay a long time
I take them out to dry before the first rinsing
otherwise they don’t freeze

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

A Poet’s Shadow

Coming out from the wall’s core,
where there is no window,
you can hear knotted strings
playing a soft cantilena,
lulling to sleep all past phantoms
coming alive in the shade.

The poet’s eyes are freezing them,
carving everything in stone.

My heart has found a revolving door
towards the old attic
where the moon keeps turning around
like an old gramophone.
Always the same tune.

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

A Heart’s Nook

Teardrops are cried
between the eyes’ corners,
they fall like lime tree flowers
shaken by trolleybus poles,
they gather among dry wrinkles
like vine sap bursting in March.

I’m crying without tears,
cautiously keeping within reach,
ready for any eventuality,
a squared jewelry case
with painted roses
on its lid.

Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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