January, 2017

Lalaland

POSTED IN contemporary poetry January 17, 2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lalaland

 
My aunt used to live in Paris
I remember, she used to come home and tell us
stories about being abroad and

I remember that she told us she jumped in the river once,
Barefoot

She smiled,
Leapt, without looking
And She tumbled into the Seine!
The water was freezing
she spent a month sneezing
but said she would do it, again

Here’s to the ones
who dream
Foolish, as they may seem
Here’s to the hearts
that ache
Here’s to the mess
we make

She captured a feeling
Sky with no ceiling
Sunset inside a frame
She lives in her liquor
and died with a flicker
I’ll always remember the flame

Here’s to the ones
who dream
Foolish, as they may seem
Here’s to the hearts
that ache
Here’s to the mess
we make

She told me:
A bit of madness is key
to give us to color to see
Who knows where it will lead us?

And that’s why they need us,
So bring on the rebels
The ripples from pebbles
The painters, and poets, and plays

And here’s to the fools
who dream
Crazy, as they may seem
Here’s to the hearts that break
Here’s to the mess we make

I trace it all back,
to that
Her, and the snow, and the sand
Smiling through it
She said
She’d do it,
Again.

Si…

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, Stories January 17, 2017

Si…

…cad zapezile-ostenite,
si-n mine urla lupi natangi,
adulmecand poteci gresite.
Te-astept pe tine sa-i alungi.

… fug de oameni printre oameni,
si-n inima-mi omatu-i greu,
si sunt un nimeni printre nimeni,
te cat pe tine, omul meu.

…vantul suduie napraznic,
si limba lui nu-i limba mea,
la moartea dorului fac praznic.
Te-astept sa plangi cu fulgi de nea.

…iar ma nasc in asta lume,
o anonima inutila,
si n-am capitol, nici volume.
Doar tu, prefata mea subtila.

Vintage print

Tonight

POSTED IN Stories January 1, 2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tonight

Tonight I’ll drink, I’ll drink tonight
to the New Year, to the new “might”,
to those who crushed my dreams and flight,
to all my hopes that suffered blight.

I raise the glass to the New Year,
for the new harvesting I cheer,
for what I’ve seen and for the seer,
for everything that I hold dear.

I’ll drink to dead and to alive,
to those who smile and those who strive,
to those who waste life to contrive,
to those who every day survive.

I’ll drink to clouds and to the light,
to all the stars in human plight,
all shining silent, shining bright,
so far away from our sight.

Tonight I’ll drink a poisonous drink,
I’ll give myself the time to think
before I die, perhaps a blink.
I’ll give my pen a glass of ink.

 

 

 

Vintage print