Se afişează cele mai noi postări cu eticheta poems. Doresc să se afişeze postări mai vechi
Se afişează cele mai noi postări cu eticheta poems. Doresc să se afişeze postări mai vechi

27 februarie 2009

self-portrait

1 comentarii
(în urmă cu câteva seri, într-o postură în care nu am realizat că mi se văd toate gândurile! Testul e simplu: la ce mă gândeam?!!)

Sunt floarea care nu-nflorește niciodată,
copacul care se-agață și de ultima rază a soarelui
... fumul care urcă printre vibrațiile glasului!
Sunt carnea neinventată de la marginea viselor...
Sunt iarba care nu crește niciodată verde,
stânca joasă de la malul mării întunecate.
Sunt cea care se va găsi în fiecare dintre norii ei,
pasărea care va căuta, ridicându-se pe aripi de sticlă împotriva legii ploii!
(notă: versurile sunt doar ca să inducă-n eroare!)

3 februarie 2009

my biological clock has stopped ticking...

0 comentarii
rutină.
15.05.2001

... aceleași lucruri idioate le văd în fiecare zi,
aceleași străzi, aceiași pomi,
aceleași vechi trotuare gri.

... aceleași sentimente surde le am în fiecare ceas,
aceeași neagră plictiseală,
același gol demult rămas.

... cu-aceleași chipuri reci și acre trăiesc în fiecare zi,
aceiași oameni prea scârbiți,
aceleași fețe purpurii.

... aceleași gesturi negândite le fac în fiecare ceas,
același dat tâmpit din cap,
același mers,
același pas.

28 ianuarie 2009

a season in hell...

0 comentarii

"Într-o seară, am luat Frumusețea pe genunchi.
Și mi s-a părut amară.
Și-am ocărât-o!"

Arthur Rimbaud
"Un Anotimp În Infern"

2 martie 2008

heartbeats...

0 comentarii
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)

Mary Frye

14 august 2007

green...

0 comentarii

Singuratatea mea se pierde intre noi amandoi
Unu cu unu fac doi
Si totu-i ranced, verde.

Speranta mea se pierde pe-o strada intunecata,
Vreau s-o mai vad odata
In viata mea cea verde.

Frumusetea mea se pierde in mlastini si-n noroi,
Ce rost avem noi doi,
Cand fata mea e verde?

Sufletul meu se pierde si nu-i decat o pata
Vreau sa-l mai vad odata,
In moartea mea cea verde.

dark hours...

0 comentarii
In fiecare seara,
in umbra barelor
ce-mi liniaza peretele celulei
ca pe o hartie,
imi tarasc sufletul pe ziduri
si pe podele, pana cand
lumina lunii se stinge
sau zidurile se topesc.

Timp de cateva ore intunecate
imi aduc aminte de mine.
Spre zori iau fiecare cuvant in palme
si-l modelez pana capata o culoare alba.
Am invatat sa nu mai simt nimic
desi palmele-mi sangerande dor.

Sterg scarbita sangele
de pe mainile-mi murdare si tremurande...
Tacerea se aduna, sufocandu-ma.
Sper sa aflu o revelatie pe masura ce noaptea ma-nconjoara.
Iar cand voi deschide mainile,
ele sa fie albe, palide si goale...
Se lasa noaptea si nu pot opri
aceasta moarte continua.

salted pain...

0 comentarii
Durerea mea e dincolo de tine.
I-am pus lacat pentru a fi sigura
ca nu vei ajunge niciodata la ea.
Dincolo de ocean sunt eu.
In sfarsit... l-am trecut inot,
si m-am spalat de pacatul de a te fi atins,
de a te fi sarutat.
M-am spalat de pacatul de a fi fost a ta.
Mi-e trupul sarat
de drumul lung petrecut inot.
Mi-e creierul sarat
de gandurile negre ce nu-mi dau pace.
Mi-e sufletul sarat
de regretul de a nu te mai avea niciodata.
Mi-e inima sarata
de durerea de a te fi pierdut pentru totdeauna.
Aici, pe acest taram virtual,
Sunt doar o clandestina plina de sare.
Degeaba-mi curat trupul si sufletul.
Ma ustura palmele, papilele gustative.
Ma ustura ochii...
Stau infrigurata si ascult sunetul valurilor sparte la mal.
Am impresia ca vorbesc intre ele, ma hranesc cu secretele lor,
si totusi... nu-mi potolesc foamea.
Calmul, sinistrul si noutatea ma inspaimanta...
Deja... nu mai simt nimic: nici apa sarata, nici nisipul ud,
nici aerul taios si rece, nici macar dragostea ta.
Nu mai simt nimic,
acum,
aici,
dincolo de tine.

10 august 2007

introducing... e.e. cummings

0 comentarii
"I carry your heart with me"
Edward Estlin Cummings (1894 - 1962)


I carry your heart with me
I carry it in my heart...
I am never without it,
Anywhere I go you go, my dear;
and whatever is done by only me
is your doing, my darling!
I fear no fate,
for you are my fate, my sweet
I want no world,
for beautiful you are my world, my true!
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing - is you.
........................................................................
here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide!
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart...
I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart!


"It may not allways be so"

It may not always be so; and I say that if your lips, which i have loved,
should touch another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch his heart,
as mine in time not far away;
If on another's face your sweet hair lay in such a silence as i know,
or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

If this should be, I say - if this should be - you of my heart, send me a little word;
that I may go unto him, and take his hands, saying
"Accept all happiness from me."
Then shall I turn my face, and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.

"I like my body when it is with your body"

I like my body when it is with your body.
It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
I like your body.
I like what it does,
I like its hows.
I like to feel the spine of your body
and its bones,
and the trembling-firm-smoothness
and which I will again and again and again kiss,
I like kissing this and that of you,
I like slowly stroking the shocking fuzz of your electric fur,
and what-is-it comes over parting flesh . . . .
And eyes big Love-crumbs,
and possibly I like the thrill of under me you - quite so new!

"Somewhere I have never travelled"

Somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near... your slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens, touching skilfully, mysteriously her first rose or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands!

"You Said"

You said: "Is there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body, to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?"
Looking into your eyes

"Nothing" i said, "except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever."
....and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a hand
which moved as though
fingers touch a girl's breast, lightly!
"Do you believe in always?"
the wind said to the rain.
"I am too busy with my flowers to believe"
the rain answered...


"You are like the rain"


I have found what you are like the rain,
Who feathers frightened fields with the superior dust-of-sleep
Wields easily the pale club of the wind and swirled justly souls of flower strike
the air in utterable coolness deeds of green thrilling light
with thinned newfragile yellows lurch and press-in the woods
which stutter and sing...
And the coolness of your smile is stirring of birds between my arms;
but I should rather than anything have - almost when hugeness will shut quietly - almost, your kiss!

9 august 2007

the magic mountain!

0 comentarii

“How bewitching the beauty of the human body, composed not of paint or stone, but of living, corruptible matter, charged with the secret fevers of life and decay! Consider the wonderful asymmetry of this structure: Shoulders and hips and nipples swelling on either side of the breast, and ribs arranged in pairs, and the navel centered in the belly’s softness, and the dark sex between the thighs. Consider the shoulder blades moving beneath the silky skin of the back, and the backbone in its descent to the paired richness of the cool buttocks, and the great branching of vessels and nerves that passes from the torso to the arms by way of the armpits, and how the structure of the arms corresponds to that of the legs!” - Thomas Mann - The Magic Mountain

7 august 2007

today's song... vama veche - cantec prost

0 comentarii

Ma despart... ma intunec de tine,
... prin acest plans ingandurat.
Citeste, inchide-mi ochii,
oglinda a mea - tu.

Nici un cuvant nu umple
durerea de a te fi atins cu mainile,
Taina de a te fi salvat
undeva in trecut.
Undeva, in trecut e un tarm,
O intindere de fluviu de piatra.

Iarta-ma, tu - de pe acum,
de sare spala-ma.
Nimeni nu tace,
Nimeni nu spune,
Nimeni nu poate.

6 august 2007

today is your day!

0 comentarii
"Oh, the Places You'll Go!"
(Theodor Seuss Geisel)

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.
You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care. About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there." With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any you'll want to go down. In that case, of course, you'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there in the wide open air. Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen, don't worry. Don't stew. Just go right along. You'll start happening too.
Oh! The places you'll go! You'll be on your way up! You'll be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.
You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest... except when you don't, because, sometimes, you won't.
I'm sorry to say so but, sadly, it's true and Hang-ups can happen to you.
You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You'll be left in a Lurch.
You'll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump. And the chances are, then, that you'll be in a Slump.
And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done. You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win? And IF you go in, should you turn left or right... or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place... for people just waiting. Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or a No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.
NO! That's not for you!
Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying. You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping, once more you'll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you're that kind of a guy!
Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.
Except when they don't. Because, sometimes, they won't.
I'm afraid that some times you'll play lonely games too. Games you can't win 'cause you'll play against you.
All Alone! Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you'll be quite a lot.
And when you're alone, there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.
But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks how. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak.
On and on you will hike and I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.
You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
Kid, you'll move mountains!
So... be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea, you're off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way!

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