It all started with images in the “review”
floating slowly in the night of missing words.
Twenty five fishes struggling in
a broken net, looking for nothing but survival.
The starry skyline shining in the horizon
at her, at him, at their blue love and hatred.
The girl in red kissing the hummingbird,
both in a cage; both inside the wooden frame.
The three angels, hand in hand,
in pride , they break through the soldiers’ parade.
Still no words. Still no hope.
Not tonight.
S
The whole town has fallen asleep.
As the blinds narrate their wandering lives,
their world is magnified into nothing but a fantasy.
Calm is the night, hiding the miracles in its arms.
Full is the moon, lighting up the alleys and the brooks.
Your journey proceeds to the dust and I dare you to
seek me,
sit beside me,
seal the night with a kiss,
and confess the truth of redemption.
S
Thirty nine minutes left
and the golden rings await
a special love affair.
“Others and I” is hanging there
and his blue eyes are climbing
above all stories.
What an odd neighborhood;
who would imagine their words?
Don’t tell me I should go.
Twenty nine minutes left
on my own – will I
ever recover from you?
S
Where is the path?
In sixty five miles or less,
and the tale never began to end.
The wind howls with the
forest wolves in an early dawn;
the train passes a hundred directions,
witnessing the hasty travellers,
chanting a melody to their beloveds.
The moon shines; the stars shame.
Into her thirsty eyes, he pleads to look.
Let’s take the road – right or wrong –
and fly among the sparkles.
S
Casting you a glance
and I’m getting lost
in tomorrow.
Silver, your precious
hair is going;
one strand at a time.
Gray, your sky-blue eyes
are turning to;
blink after blink.
After all, beauty does live
among us – among the
lovers’ charm.
S
Two years ago on this day, I ended certain emotional affairs of mine, crossed boundaries I never thought I would cross, and took a short trip to Paris.
Today, I still treasure my decision and every moment of that trip.
Today, I admire life on the cutting edge.
S
After a hardcore cross-country trip to Calgary and Ottawa, all within 3 days, I’m back in my home sweet home.
My first time in Calgary, called Cowtown by the locals, left me with the friendliest impression. I finally met – in real life! – the two coolest tweeters I’m in contact with. How did it go? Awesome. How were they? More awesome. Are we going to meet again? Hell yes. Ottawa was yet again a short and busy trip, the highlight being its blue sky and work-related stuff.
See, I’m already getting better with my updates – this is, of course, if you even give a dime!
Have a wonderful week.
S
She runs, ran, runs
under the wet April sky;
witnessing two homeless
geese and a lonely towel
lying on the bench.
In the name of faith
she then lies – why?
To sacrifice tiny hopes;
to kill the envious;
to love their smiles.
S
How can I have faith in you and your dreams
while reddish ink is leaking from the rival’s lips?
Where have you gone? To the world of opulence?
What drug can heal this dangerous liaison?
I’m free from your anchored heart, out of my own mind,
crazy in love for an unknown soul – year after year.
The passing days; even the time is unfaithful today.
We sever ties and I bid you farewell. Alas, forever.
S
