[x]

Metamorphosesat first you crawl,
eternal flow,
the thoughts that race,
the body slow
and then you stop,
and sleep, and dream,
cocooned in silk,
no thought, no scream

at last... you rise!
into the night
a lunar moth
in search of light

RainToday
rain caught us by surprise
we started running for shelter,
but then you stopped
and, confused, I turned to you...
you gave me one of your big smiles
with your wet hair framing your sweet face...
we had forgotten
that the rain
was just another reason
to take our clothes off

Hall of MirrorsEvery time I turned an inner eye
all I could see were infinite reflections of myself
in cold mirrors
with no flaws

But now I've started to replace each mirror
with an image
of you
and I smile
each time I turn
an inner eye

Metamorphobiait is a wonder all the changes
that one endures in a day
at dawn, in fear, desperation,
then words pull you from the abyss,
your lungs inhale a swift elation,
the eyes perceive a kind of bliss,
then clouds, dark clouds, again in silence
the rain, the wind, the sun again
at last the dark, the taste of violence,
the sensual rhythm of a train
and like emerging as imago
you exchange fear for delight
you are a thing of many faces
depressed by day, a god by night

Stranger in a strange landa cooked meal in winter,
a warm bed at night,
a child, parent, love,
a home with a chimney,
the fields filled with flowers,
a forest in shade
on a hot summer day,
the silence of sunsets...

I look for their meaning
in books full of wisdom,
but sometimes, out here,
they don’t mean a thing

Babelthe Tower was built
around our senses,
our touch, taste and smell,
the eyes with their lenses

the fall of the Tower
rushed air in our lungs
and brought the delightful
confusion of tongues

The Inspiration ImperativeTo break from inspiration is like taking your jacket off...
Except that it's a straitjacket, with long sleeves tied to the back, and you are bound with chains and locks, hanging head down, immersed in a pool of water and you have but a few minutes to escape before you are lost again to the sweet delirium of hypoxia.

Toamna tarzieToamnă târzie

mintea mi-e grea
cu vise și pietre
și veștede frunze
de toamnă.

o toamnă târzie,
amară și aspră
sărut de mormânt,
o doamnă târzie...

o damă-n veșmânt
din palide frunze
și când îl dezbracă
sub el
doar schelete

în gheare mă prinde
iubirea mi-o fură
și-mi dă voluptate
pe-o lespede sumbră
sicriu al simţirii
din frunze și pietre

ZileTe speli pe dinţi de dimineaţă,
zâmbești oglinzii solitar,
uiţi robinetul... îţi vezi pieptul
cu coaste fine de ogar
Mănânci fără prea multă poftă
ceva ce-a fost odată pui,
îţi iei pantofii de sub masă
și haina ruptă dintr-un cui
Te duci la lucru, vii acasă,
fără să faci din nou nimic,
îţi faci curaj și-ţi zici că poate
de mâine-ai să lucrezi un pic
Şi obosit, frustrat, pe gânduri,
citești un rând, adormi târziu
și te trezești de dimineaţă
de trei ori mort, o dată viu.

BerriroseShe came at me with hand-fulls of mallow,
yet I countered her with marigolds and regarded her with mint.

My love lies bleeding in soil that will not yield to the till, rocks too jagged to plough
through.

Her orchid face and oxeye daisy smile thrust her bouquet forward...again.

I returned the gesture with striped carnations.

She laughed and left me confused while pointing down to the mud at my feet.

"It all grows in that mud, silly boy" she stated with her eyes.

In my wallow I had forgotten that it had started raining.

IFIf I spoke correctly the Shakespeare language

I would say

Thou are the light that guides my steps on the path of love
Thou are the flower that brightens my heart by its mere presence
Thou are the spark that warms my soul

But I only know the language of Molière

And

Darkness surrounds us
The flowers fade
The rain keeps falling

You walk away beautiful stranger and you do not understand what my tears want to tell you...

Si

Si je parlais correctement la langue de Shakespeare

Je dirais

Tu es la lumière qui guide mes pas sur le chemin de l'amour
Tu es la fleur qui égaie mon coeur par sa seule présence
Tu es l'étincelle qui réchauffe

the moon is on a line of poetry woven

the moon is on the horizon
a line of poetry woven
over the hills holding up night
into another line of poetry
a lamp, a friend, a guide
these are the tapestries
witnessed through a moment
of life's doings
and then again, another occurance
the comings and goings
moon beads strung together
woven within and without

Terminal frostI am contemplating stillness. A desolate and flat land breathing an unnatural silence.
The ploughed dirt has taken monstrous shapes as if the hand of a tormented sculptor wanted to impress his agony on this land.
The traces of my footsteps are long gone, probably blown away by the blizzard. And the snow... the snow is a dirty white. It doesn't even have that feel, the one I remember from childhood. It crumbles in my hands, like sand. The sky is also grey and if it weren't for distant trees you would not be able to place the horizon in the picture.
Everything is frozen. The trees have frozen, birds on branches frozen too, looking quiet and at peace.
I have to move now. I remember I was going somewhere... North... I think. I'm in no hurry, but I've seen all I can from this point. My hands are a bit cold, but it's bearable. Chest feels warm enough and the walk will get my heart pumping again.
It's going to be a hard winter. Hard for the land... hard for the trees... h

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PhantomWhen life
or fate
or whatever it is
that puts things together
and takes them apart...
when It
amputated you,
it left me
with a phantom
limb
and you are still attached
to my body
when I dance
and make love
alone

EmptinessI stopped cleaning my room
dust lays everywhere
but I'm confident the void inside me
will suck it all in
and leave my room
clean

ZenSometimes
In the zen garden
Rocks contemplate people

IzvorŞi când imensitatea oceanelor nu mai e de ajuns,
trag corabia la ţărm,
dau jos flamura neagră, de corsar,
fac din ancoră plug, și-l trag cu lanţuri grele prin pământ,
de catarge agăţ haine albe și moi, la uscat,
și le voi îmbrăca după ce ies din armură, din sudoare, și din sânge închegat,
iar din cârmă voi face un carusel, frumos, de copil...
Tânjesc după pământ, și acum am eșuat, pierdut pe-o plajă,
cu picioarele în nămol, uitându-mă spre pădurea care freamătă în depărtare.
În spatele meu oceanul urlă furios, aruncă val după val, mă cheamă înapoi,
dar nu mă mișc, cunosc oceanul, iluzia libertăţii, fuga...
Vreau pământ moale sub picioare, umbra pădurii, pat de frunze,
apă din izvor.

Aur si plumbUn gând de aur, dar se simte
mai greu ca un pumnal de plumb
ce intră-n coaste, se învârte,
și caută să iasă prin minte...
Stilou de aur, scrie versuri,
dar lasă urme ca de plumb,
pe foi mânjite de cerneală,
și de cafea, și alte resturi...

Un glonţ de aur, dar se simte
mai tandru ca o zi de plumb,
îl pun aici, închid capacul,
și ca un gând, îl scot prin minte.

RozeAm văzut niște roze întunecate, cu spini,
Le-am atins și m-am rănit,
și am mers mai departe...
Am văzut niște roze de un roșu aprins, cu spini,
Le-am atins și m-am rănit,
și am mers mai departe...
Am văzut niște roze albe, fără spini,
și am trecut mai departe...

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Submitted: January 22
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Ash and Snow

by *NegativeFeedback, Jan 22, 2013, 7:44:46 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

The sun goes out
You close the door
And sounds subside
In your dark room
As we collide
Down on the floor

We lay embraced
Inhaling slow
Cocooned in glue
In your dark room
I lay on you
Like ash on snow

Ash and Snowby *NegativeFeedback

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

=Wordeea Feb 23, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

feat here / ici : [link]

*lombregrise Jan 31, 2013 Professional Writer

TAG! you've been tweeted by the Fortress ! /
COUCOU ! la forteresse vous a tweeté ! [link]

`tiganusi Jan 23, 2013 Professional

"cocooned in glue" is a pretty damn fierce image. good work.

=Wordeea Jan 22, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

j'aime beaucoup

~Filichen Jan 22, 2013 Hobbyist Digital Artist

This is really, really, really nice. Excellent imagery. I adore the last line.

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