it appears out of nowhere
and even if I guess it
or not
I pretend to be too clever
to water its roots
with lacy butterflies of hope
too busy, too awake
to walk the walk of dreams
daily surrendered to dawn
like freedom
by caught and trialed killers
and when it stings
like a bee that knows all about
honey
all about petals and fate
it feels grateful and peaceful and forever
lost
'post-me' poem
poems with you start like the breeze on wild shores
there's salt in each verse and their words taste
like lips smeared in chocolate
before breakfast
poems without you are houses
ripped off at night by thieves
they are the empty souls untouched
by God
tombstones forgotten in winter
*
some poems are poor and some
are rich
some open the door some close it
some are bonnie and clyde
some jane and john doe
and some don't even rhyme
ritmul deșertului, ritmul lumilor trecătore, le rythme désertique des mondes passés et futurs
אין סימן
כי הכול סימן.
כשתבין
את קצב העולמות
בעבר ובעתיד המדבר
גרגר נוכחותך
יתביית על אי יציבותה
של דיונה.
החול ישמור צללים והדים
קצב אחד יקלוט מעברים
ומשב הרוח ינעץ אותך
בתוך הסחרור
your seconds stretched over me
like the arms of a lover
day and night
I thank you for my gifts
the whispers of his lips
(oh, his lips)
the air built around feathers
in towers and towers of freedom
the blades of grass betraying the wind
the blood gushing in petals of tulips
(oh, his tulips)
the sun rays crushed by skin
like strawberries by tongue
you leave me no choice
no other choice but promise
on the silence of your lambs
that I’ll be yours,
all yours
until May do us part
a friend once told me
never ever fall in love with a poet
he'll eat your eyes at breakfast
have your heart cooked for lunch
and in the evening he'll listen
quietly your laments
while drinking a glass full of tears
your tears
now this shit might be true or not
one thing's for certain
i've since written some poems
and always been keeping an empty glass nearby
Comentarii aleatorii