Fall Bloom

that blond girl
with long long hair
is a color
of delightful luminosity
by a precise
poetic sensuality
of the tongue
tapping the palate
hitting the right note
manifesting a tone
an equivalence of a smile
in all worlds

She –
made of lustrous transparent rose skin
is a goddess of temptation
the curling ice queen
on a museum floor
manifesting nudity to
not believing eyes
once dressed up
in tightly packed dark clothing
unfitting to the straight torso

jutting out the shine of
her far away alluring looks
the porter of ancient nordic landscapes is her eyes
which you’d choiceless fly through

She – the divine breeze made to softly aerate
angelic locks –
innocence of youthful dreams

joy may you call her laughter -unheard – freezing time
rebuilding traces of an unlived dream

She is here today

to harmonize the thought chords
attuned by the subtle passage
made of blurry sets of colors and lines
flowing at a readable rate  
along the dark November backgrounds
of an intoxicated Sunday morning

Red is still red in the neon
as if too early to be awake
clock hitting the afternoon
wall of fame signs rolling lonely
to haunt ghosts of yesterday nights
which have never come alive until they got brighter than the stars

Dark that shall make the silhouettes forget and reanimate
the never starting and neverending play of zombies
looking for a pure soul

always somewhere else
failing to find one

Flashes of illusion swept by the persistent horns

to be replaced in their place
not as divinity
but as an administrative layer of impurity
All replaceable at once
while everyday stays the same
while everyday they think is different
except for the old man

the old man doesn’t think
wearing a cap
sits there outside
at the most invisible corner of an old theater cafe

He sees everything he has three eyes
He hears everything he has three ears
He reads everything always the same newspaper
turning the pages in the same tempo of this chimerical dream

I am being observed I know
while writing beside him
and he says silently :
I don’t wanna read yours
but I can read you
if i want to
and he attempts to go
many many times

while I write I wish him stay
as if keeping an admirer beside my words
an anonymous faceless friend
and I speed up as I walk fast with my pen I fly
and he gravitates back to his chair again

I want to finish this up quickly and walk away at once without even looking at him not even once
that’s the perfect scenario I think mixing up a reality to a dream
considering the urgent importance of this line makes me immerse and see nothing other than the self  but alas the traffic lights turn to green

and She – the profile of my beauty queen
holding a beaker to go
raises her head dancingly
arcs the neck
and in slow motion
throws a laughter to the air
whose weight should be a blissful wiege
for my loving looks –
made of a shape of a missing
of what I could have never been
– halving her pink coat in well fitting blue to her jeans

and she steps forward to fade away
leaving me chained to the glorious gravity
of this untouchable dream

on this invisible island of mirrors
which neither she nor anybody else has ever seen
but me

hopelessly sculpting now
a reflection of an illusion
made real
through the weight of these words
me is  a sad melody
of an autumn leaf
falling for her dream

There is a light

There is a light we hold

it shines
-almost literally-

from inside

like when
the electric bulb
first time realized
the essence
of its very source


still in a same
fit for itself box
the once a dark corner
by the embracing romance
of its truth

As visible such a bulb is to eyes
(and as such )
sensuous is this light to us
when we  fully are
inside the heart

we breathe
in asana
the sun shines
for the one



photo by Alin –  2007



Love Cry

here was you first
and ever after
I made a yesterday

residues of a past
and woke up
in an enchanting sky
of a place
where I want to be

I said thank you
looking through

We were this blissful rue
made of pastel tones of pink blue
something pale and light
but still and still

blew face to face
me one side of the hue
you the other side as if
if we could have kissed
the sky would become true

I said thank you again
started fading
moving farther
away from me

you are alright now
you said
ready to go up

I cried
only that moment

I will never be able to touch you again
I will never be able to see you again
I will never be able to miss and paint for you again
I will never fear and hide under the blanket of your love again

and I cried
unstoppable tears
became rivers on landscapes
me cheekless
an aura just

why then do I cry I asked
are you sure I am ready?
are you sure the emotions
neutralized already?

you said
you don’t cry alone
see this crystal teardrop

you crystalized a teardrop
to show me that
my desire for you
is pure
pure enough to go
for us both

for us to be apart as such
is unbearable
for us face to face
as two auras just
made by our own minds
until we would realize
you are I and I is you
shape of you is in my mind only

I looked through the crystal
and saw the most beautiful bloom

you said
this is not yours only

this is a shared teardrop

when you cry it is I that cries
when I cry it is you that cries

and you left

I saw
my body reshaping
in the lightness of the dark
and felt that body
for the first time
again and again
after  the last time
as if
ages ago

how long has it been we were in exile?

questions disappeared traceless

No we don’t wonder
in our completeness

you were
my green lines
I was your red lines
contouring one line body
in each other transcendentally

I awoke
opened my eyes
in an inaugural
poetic physical balance
feeling us in the chest
us filling the chest
non separately
we became one

and looked around
a room we stood in
two trees outside
being shaken
by the storm
endlessly moving

however tough
even these branches
were surprised
seeing us
in one
as one

while they were rooted as two
while they knew to see
us as two
generations long
they mumbled
and Now!

we are  shockingly anew
so much so that
they stopped
got truly tough
first time
because of us
and kept it still  
like a rock
against the wind

like  a Ssshhh after a blast
engraved over the window glass
to be able to see us

Storm continued
in its furious Godliness just
as required

title is inspired by :
Four  Tet – Love Cry



we shall test once
this ‘nothing is coincidental’
to sense all senses
as if not ours
to fill a bucket full
of thoughts
as if not ours
to place the body
in a tree
as if not ours

and connect
these lines
to a wireframe
as the collaborative work
of the ingenious director
and the engineer
both of which
staged their dream
as one complete piece
not longer than
all that could be perceived
in one lifetime

“so much work
oh so much work
still to be done …”
s/he said
in the meantime

yet 5 minutes should  just be enough
for that …resolution
without wondering and complaint

you know what to do
you walk the path
like a tailor
sleeping and waking up
working on one garment just
tagged as life

tailor that will sleep and wake up
until the garment is unpatched
so they will disappear all together
a garment that makes one invisible
when cycles are dropped

when autumn leaves shower
to show off
what they can do for me -jubilantly
as I pass
because I pass
I hear the twithoo
of the nobly circling wild bird
resonating from far aways and depths of the
valleys that are known so well to both of us
one of us though  forgets sometimes:)

the bird of wisdom is there
to remind me of
who I truly am
once again
by the sharpness of the sound
that contours the visibility of the thick mist
as friendly monsters of childhood dreams

and I look up

Sky is
while you would be reading these lines

No you can’t disprove me
nothing is coincidental
but I still like to play the coward sometimes
and incidentally 😉
hide under the safe blanket of your poetry
making it a patchy garment of you and me
that will be dropped someday
non coincidentally
for one love only