Archive for August, 2012

August 14, 2012

*****

torn between illusions and reality

between her lust and the sadness of the years past

I stretch out my hand, trying to touch the end of her shoulder,

there – right where I should have been, yesterday, tomorrow,

every now and again

 

Sit! Please sit down! Tell me nothing you said was true;

nothing you ever did was real; tell me the shotgun-bang-like thoughts

I came across these past 7 years – were nothing more but mere absence,

lack of yourself within my feeling, my dreams, my self

 

whereas my calf was touching the grass – nothing of you ever came

in close contact with anything familiar;

grains of pain, all over my mornings –

poured into tall glasses, served cold;

have you ever thought of the day after?

wandering by, wind in your hair, red hint of whiskey-like emotions

passing by everything ever to have been meaningful

I replicate the need to run

 

falling aside

there’s nothing between those walls

to make me change my mind

there’s nothing closer than your cold touch

within my wild imagination drifting

 

fire away!

I won’t stand in your

path

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August 13, 2012

Gind 10

Mă uit la fotografia roșcată de vreme și vîntul îmi suflă de noiembrie-n spate; nimic n-are să mi te aducă mai aproape decît zîmbetul strîmb, printre dinți albi. Îmi plouă gîndurile precum mării valurile.

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August 7, 2012

*****

do you recall the past?

the big bird, flapping its wings over us, letting

us know what tomorrow’s plans for us were?

there is no going back now, no better approach;

all we are is all we’ll ever be;

the coming of the 7 years of lust is further than ever;

I’ll never feel your breath against my collar bone again

I’ll never get to touch the inside of your thighs

I’ll never feel your fingers running down my spine again;

 

there is no hope in the flapping of the new turned-into-a-butterfly-bird

there is no chance ahead;

curling on your back-bone, alone and frightened

lies the image of a younger me, boldly smiling and

blowing smoke through the open window of

your curse

 

follow me – you should

caress me – you must

understand the villain inside my mind

troubled and sad

alone and in pain

 

I walk in silence, touching the wall;

once more – I’ll never be clean again

farewell

August 7, 2012

Gînd 9

De undeva din mine se revoltă anii ce-au trecut, cu fiecare clipă ce-am trăit-o prost spunîndu-mi “nimic din tine nu mai e real”; cuvinte pe care de prea multe ori le-am auzit, gînduri de care de prea multe ori m-am lovit; şi totuşi – nici măcar nu ştiu ce nu e cum ar trebui.

Undeva, cîndva, eu pe mine m-am minţit şcolăreşte.

August 6, 2012

Wizz-areli (late post)

Pentru ca nimic nu e mai fashion cind pleci in tari straine decit sa-ti accesorizezi ceafa lata, buzele groase, gagica blonda cu papucei roz – cu o geanta aurie Versace si un “treling” (h)Armani Jeans… Despre teniseii Adidas nici nu mai zic nimic.

Sa mer’em dara cu cursa Wizz. “Duca-ne unde ne-a duce” cum ar zice dl. Lese…

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August 6, 2012

Gind 8

Privirea din spatele miinilor asezate pe masa n-are sa spuna niciodata la fel de multe precum lungimea degetelor sau curbura unghiilor; odata cu miinile – pe masa ti-ai asezat si sufletul; nimic din tine nu mai mi-e secret.

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