I will not write a poem. Unless the poem scribbles itself, I stubbornly stand for the prose unleashed from the uncried tears of a child, unborn yet ready to exist. A child who sees injustice, who fails to understand the lies unless a story’s on the stage, a different one than the reality of life.
A poem from “Parentheses”, which is a work in progress, still. 😉 Yet, I’ve included some of the English poems in “Memories” (“amintiri”), my latest Romanian book that has been published in July. Illustrations and cover for Parentheses by Jade Ene.
For https://dversepoets.com/2018/04/05/openlinknight-217/ Last summer I started writing my thoughts in English. I don’t know why. Phrasing in English, whatever I was experiencing, was not a choice of the ego-mind. It simply came this way, it has been born this way. A cycle of poems entitled Parentheses (The Diary of Renovation) grew out while parentheses became
Between the wor(l)ds A life between the worlds (my-world, I-world, your-world) between the shadows of the words (an ongoing process, the process of going on) in a quest for a reality of beauty and of joy (serenity of love, love of serenity) we found our pulse beaming that white and golden light (over all
Christ-mas(s) became a time of celebration all over the world. Whatever religion, whatever cultural or ethnical roots, no matter what continent, this time of the year is dedicated to happiness, to love and care, to the joy of being Humans . People want to please their dear ones, want to surprise them with nice and