Posts Tagged With: struggle

Bustards


let it rain my fist is full of sunshine grain
I feed the red bustards in my chest
otherwise they would fly against the odds
life’s precious moments
swelled like silk worms’ cocoons
we need both rain and sunshine
but we don’t need red bustards
I’m afraid to speak ungracious words
because they would fall on the ground
and any seed can germinate on fertile soil

in this night of the iguana love is still here
and the rest is silence

Categories: My Poems in 2015, Uncategorized | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Silence


I hide in a Sunday’s shell,
a frosty and white holiday,
my thoughts are locked in a warm cellar,
mice are nibbling in the satchel with memories.

Because of too much silence
I dream that roosters sing,
waking up wrapped in a down pillow,
amidst roots of writhed wings
still ticking slowly
on their first flight.

Electric bells toll in the rain,
heavy scales raise upon me
knocking the dimmed windows.

Life is like marching slowly
over tiny stones.

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

Hardcover


I began to dig inside words
tunnels for the siege of a crystal fortress
raised unexpectedly
right in the middle of poppy fields
where children pick up flowers
slowly learning how they fade

I scrape in silence bending forward
tomorrow’s earth compresses me
heavy mounds cover dry roots
nails with purple blood berries
scratch in depths a secret map
many bridges I can’t locate
between mankind and sky

my heart throbs on a desert street
trying to hide from its old fears
I will bite further from a frozen silence
once filling up the fountain
of rejuvenation

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

Without Denial


I stretch my arms suddenly
The muscle fibers hurt
Like a green leaf
Stabbed by a dagger.
My eyes are bleeding
Young hatchlings
Fighting to break
Their egg’s shell.
I clasp my fist
My heart throbs
Digging inside my brain.

I must never forget
I repeat to myself
Under heavy fog like cinders
Something is shining
Only the truth doesn’t hurt
Always fiery and bright.

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

The Operation


the surgeon japes coarsely about death
as if he were taunting an old cocotte
the patient keeps silent bottling up inside
waking up below
accepting in extremis to reenter his placenta
under bright lamps and blades
like a premature baby

his eyelids are beating from heart to heart
he’s set free among valves
looking around him
bloody defeated fighting with cut off flesh
taken out from the place where the spirit
closes up like handcuffs on a virgin’s hand

the lights are whirling and stinging under retina
in the recovery room for a long time
the same day staff replaces the night staff
it’s like a white dream with hidden thorns
the patient is still sleeping
perfusion serum drips in his blood
as if it were a silent hailstorm

he wakes up again without any thought
without looking to himself
floating like fresh egg yolk in the glair
wrapped in stamped crumpled bed sheets

he will wear the same name
shedding his old snake skin
crawling brand-new in a new world
biting deeper with his front teeth
even the moon as big as she is
doesn’t stay always in her sky
.
.

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

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