Poetry comes and takes possession of your mind, your words, your vision… sometimes of your whole life. She takes everything because she gives everything. She has her rights. This new book, still in the process of pre-printing, called Memories, went through many changes. Who knows, it might be a natural, like the natural change of
Categorie: English
Only she knows This sadness (Always hidden in hindrance) this quest for joy (a distance between us) always painful and wise (an always that stays in our eyes.) Can we survive the sadness of this world? (Only she knows, the Mother.) Image source: http://www.roerich.org/museum-paintings-catalogue.php
How many todays till eternity? Calling the name (thousands of trumpets twisting the air) a stamp, a picture, a drop of sun (encircled by lines and dots) is honoring that fragment we know (forgetting the vastness of the unknown) living beyond the boundaries of letters (though) we honor a name and a time (thus
Too hot for a poem, too hot for a dream, too hot for a feeling (except this song thrusting through the heat, a song that I heard when I still hoped you do exist). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCeX6ONLvgs
This Sunday’s quietude clears the space The sky’s light burns every scam in mind (waiting for anything, in limbo states, desires, expectations, stupid plans, a chain of words that paves reality) A green-white-golden peace Fills the air that I breathe. This Sunday’s spotless sky Reminds me of a mountain, The clear encompassing vision
Worlds of Words 