sâmbătă, 12 septembrie 2015

woman crusader

 I cover the heart of the rain
 with one only tooth
 the woman crusader is spreading
 her gown is raining stars
 above a mountain her footsteps
 are crushing the neck
 of the unspeakable man
 is a shuffling of a thought
with round cheek is bowing
the smile is fading away
 the woman becomes dark
 is the day of Sabbath it’s the day when
 blood pours into goblets
 pray, dance and drink
 till the angels return
 with an iron foot
the crusaders cut deep
the wax shoulder
the woman bleeds
tomorrow on we will not
give tribute
they mumble when hemming
savagely the woman’s abdomen
with sand breast

luni, 27 iulie 2015

the shrine of life

I dream myself door – living image
carved by a hand
too skilfull a door that opens
towards the leaden ray I love the sea
the chilly air of the iron nights because
only at night I have time for moans
my dear seeker of wishes
then I have lively times descended
of roars of dreams
I ease your crushed knees
burned hands which have carried
with honour a rusty sword
as a daughter of death
in fight
I dream myself
like this
as if I opened
the same door – empty image-
craved over a
shrine of lives
underneath your shirt