You jump

..

I jump

in deep water

not to cross the ocean

not to compete with the killer whales

or the great white sharks

not to find the biggest pearl in the world

or Nemo

not to solve the mysteries of Titanic

or the secret of alternative life

not to understand about sand

and seagulls and sailors

and the goodness of algae

not to watch the Spanish dancers

or the dolphins

or the corral grow

not to feel the salt climbing into my pores

and the big blue flooding my senses

I jump

in deep water

just to be with you

wet, under, holding.

our hands and our breaths

..

Optimus Anonymous

as birds scratch the sky

so the clouds can bleed

feathers and fear

over a world in greed

we watch with our hands

soft and ready to kill

for whatever we love

or the secrets we seal

collapsed in the same

cull de sack of the mind

thoughts linger alone

in the land of the blind

we never surrender

when sick and in love

become pure and tender

in God’s hand a dove

and good lies in bad

when the worse fills our hope

are you ready to die?

are you ready to cope?

without knowing how

you can never succeed

so release your birds

so your clouds can bleed

Issues

laid on the table

love looks rather silly

naked

wobbly

feelings spreading inside a

soft white belly

in knots

ticklish ears

weakness at the knees

no eye contact

muddled words

sweaty palms

you put the knife down

and say

to yourself

‘is this it?’

then

you go out

as you do

and slam the door

with the ‘gone for lunch’ sign

hanging on the outside

so all can see

all but love

Open letter

hi there God,

I’m here @ your mercy as usual

no, I’m not alone

although at times

I feel like a balloon of emotions

in a world of pins 

I haven’t got much time

(‘here we go again’ you must think)

they say you don’t have either

although yours is a bit of an eternity, isn’t it?

but who am I to judge?(who am I full stop?)

and no, this is not a prayer.

(I bet you had enough of: God, please this, God please that)

and we’re not friends 

on face book or anything

so

I’m not even asking for forgiveness

as my sins are in progress

and you know it

(don’t you?)

I was just wondering,

with my human mind,

which separated from the soul you gave me a while ago (God, it seems ages now!)

sums up to 0

so, I was wondering

about the schedule

of my personally designed Bang (nosy me!)

my Nokia diary, full of daily tasks or endless ‘to do’ lists could squeeze in the time, the date even the minute 

my minute!

(Nokias are great! The one I have now has blue tooth and GPS and a 12 megapixel camera with video editing. Yes! I know! A M A Z I N G!)

so

go oooon!

I could really look the part, you know?

the day before

I could care and sing more than I usually do

I could smell flowers, drive over the limit and smile at the cameras on the M25

please others, kiss,

dance tango (which I’m really not good at!)

roll in the grass and hug people I know nothing about

possibly resist temptation (I’m not good at that either!)

and defeat the feeling of: ‘what I want - I get’

(or at least try!)

for,

(what I gather, from your sources)

I do quite a lot of and

it kind of rocks a few boats in the waters of heaven

well, better dash,

you know me (better than anyone, I say!) 

always on the go

give me a sign, 

and my love 

to JC

all yours, God, all yours,

me

x

Cold guitar

and when I wish it to be true
one more time
just this once

the universe listens

and sends down its moons

wrapped up in sonatas

these fingers searching and searching

will they find me?

deep down

where the ropes end

where the light is thin

like a last breath

like a string

stretched beyond death

in a perfect tune

me,

this piece of wood

...to Daddy

despre nimic

ma gindeam sa-ti scriu despre vreme

dar despre ea vei citi in ziarul de miine

vei afla cit de mult a plouat la mine

cum totul s-a umplut

si a luat-o la vale

in torente

pina cind mi-au tremurat genunchii

si-a trebuit sa ma asez

pe-un morman de lucruri

din care nu stiu ce sa aleg

asa ca iti scriu pe fuga

fara diacritice

fara majuscule

literele astea sint oricum inca vii

si dor ca dracu’

iar daca ar fi sa le dau un nume

ar fi cu siguranta lebede negre

cu gitul uscat de sunetul ce nu

vrea sa iasa

So, what is Xmas for you?

..the red cheeks of children,

the scarves and the rush

the patches of snow

lips in strawberry crush

I finish today the tasks of tomorrow

I’ll make a new list of TO DO

and to borrow

more time more time

I need it for something

perhaps to arrange all these cards on a word string

the kitchen in frenzies

the turkey asleep

the spuds and the pies

and the microwave bleep

the tree in the corner the cat and the guests

and the million dollar last minute request

the presents wrapped up

the smiles in their eyes

the mulled wine smells good

(I ‘m having a high!)

the sneezing, the coughing

the ‘I finished I think’

the sore feet and headache

the ‘I need that drink’

my eyes getting heavy

my glass gleaming red

the sounds bypassing

the thoughts in my head

as I sit by the fire

they should now all agree

that mission’s accomplished

...and this is Christmas for me

picture taken from the internet

Santa Claus Bailout Hearings

There are many concerns in the world...The biggest of them all, right now,  is this.....I tell you...



(video from You Tube)

1 2 1

december

so tough

on ears and throats

sore

with missing

each other’s voice

these toes

frozen and curled

under rough

silent blankets

of faraway and waiting

only our thumbs

warm warm

alive with

significant letters

filling

screens and

the meaning of days

“afflicted by love's madness all are blind”

and

I can’t see

those eyes

lip-reading my

xxx

(quote by Sextus Propertius)

"I'm not going to think about her" - Tales of Mere Existence by Lev Yilmaz