Monday, December 28, 2009

For the love of...

hai să negociem cu pistolul la tîmplă
să ne tragem frica peste genunchi
şi să aşteptăm lumina să ne deşire neputinţa

priveşte scaunele goale din noi
ceaţa dintre ele
sîntem inocupabili, my love!

ridică pocalul, dă ultima amintire peste cap
promit să nu-mi amintesc viitorul
nici albul petalelor de magnolie înflorită iarna
într-o criză de amnezie

să numărăm invers anii
cu degete umezite de lacrimi
(pentru acurateţe)
sprijiniţi de pereţi ce colapsează
încet şi sigur

regina mea şi nebunul tău se plac

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Merry Christmas and a Happy 2010!

Wishing all the readers of this blog a Merry Christmas and a fulfilling 2010! God bless...x

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The tightrope walker

walking on this wire
eyes glued ahead
arms widely stretched
open hearted
feet poking the air
one in front of the other
I am doing it

if you’re close enough
you may also hear
me humming a tune
the public inside
is clapping
what a marvellous act!
no net!
will she make it?

A quick glance in the mirror
glowing cheeks
!Love is evoL!

I am the perfect tightrope walker
Do not try this a-lone!

Sunday, December 06, 2009

from one to another...(to my good friend and rival Gunsel Djemal)

she was in love with bukowski
so she wrote him a poem
and poured another glass
while rain was flooding her thoughts
and nobody really cared
not even bukowski
who did not even stir
down in his grave
people are boring
he would have told her
women are predictable
same hair dos and make up and shoes
wherever you turn
same nagging and flip flops and scarfs everywhere
but she wouldn’t listen
she went to the off license
poured another glass
and wrote another poem
to bukowski
who she was in love with
just like I was..

Saturday, December 05, 2009

to live is...

on top of the world
or something big, anyway
I sit by the window
and my fingertips crawl
on cold glass
you’re on the other side
but most of the time you’re not
and my fingertips carry on crawling
minute by minute
another hour
most days

riding this black stallion I am
unable to be stopped
and there’s
no peace embracing my thighs
his harness digging through flesh
keep riding
I say to myself
and let this wind show you mercy
blowing the hair of your troubled face
keep riding
and let this rain wash the burning desert
of your lips
and I ride
this stallion into the horizon and beyond
minute by minute
another hour
most days

sitting by the window
fingertips crawling on cold glass
people are staring through
let them