Of arms, waves and bounds

I still sleep with books in my bed. It's somehow comforting knowing you wake up and the pages will be just as wasted as your dreams.


With every breath you get trapped in the monstrosity of the sea, how terribly sad as you will never know how to sail and the winds will never be enough. It's the same wickedness as of the one of the creature you shall never fully understand, yourself.

She wears black and has a terrible passion for poison. Of the musical sort. Not true yet not false. A bit too high pitch at moments and completely incomprehensible.

He cares not to listen. He assumed that just like the others she was a siren. She's terribly alone even when surrounded by people.

She listens to sounds that bother them and music is her air. Every shape and form...is music.

She allows herself to be trapped in the abyss of strangers...oh and then the solitude shapes into an even more solemn melancholy.

Dear Hilde, there's a bit of death in tonight's sunrise, and yet there is no shadow on that poor swan's wings.

My beloved without a name you strike me as remarkable, your laughter is in the air like dark circles. You're real just as much as you are myth, you are love just as much you are forgetfulness.

But then that is yet another story to be told, and tonight there's only time for tea, and doubts and this woman's crumb of life.

Gently forward and boundless...Sail away. The last miracle is upon those waves, and we shall not see them, yet we shall turn into waves ourselves...claiming salvation from the infinite. Two strangers mirroring their finitude in the darkness.

Cain

N-am scris nimic. Dar daca as scrie as scrie o singura carte cu o singura foaie. As da-o umanitatii si tie.
Lumea dureaza putin mai mult din cauza ta.

Cantatul m-a salvat azi ca de fiecare data. Am alergat bezmetic la acelasi copac care imi soptea ca probabil daca voi canta la apus de soare, dupa cantatul unei pasari care viseaza la fel de mult ca mine ceva bun se va intampla la capatul lumii.

Ce se intampla cu tine? De ce efectul tau asupra mediului meu e ambiguu?
De ce cazi?
De ce clipesti si ametesti cand mergi pe mijlocul versului meu?

Drumul.
Drumul il pierdem de fiecare data.
Continutul.
Il scriem de fiecare data pe urmele prietenilor nostri.
Versul.
Il lipesc pe obrazul tau in fiecare noapte.
Visul.
Ia-l in brate pana cand revine realitate.

Dansezi pentru ca pur si simplu nu poti opri
Incerci sa traduci lipsa unui a fi
Pentru ca nu apartii
Si niciodata nu vei putea
De fiecare data
A vrea inseamna
A nu avea
A renunta
A nemuri

In my attempt of translating all of those wishes you surrounded me with hope, you embraced me and it seemed all well. Unfortunately I just can not take, this is more than a burn, darling your mind is like a storm and I can't, I just can not step into it every single time. You've thrown this storm out of fear, wanting  not to escape, I'll give you my thoughts, close your eyes darling, you're my favourite goodbye. It's always too late and all you want to be is Cain and all you keep on killing is the better self, today and everyday.

Abyssal

Nobody knows the last time that we meet each other. We love the darkness because we are both made from it. Hands of shadows, dusty feet, teeth of echoes, smiles of whispers and eyes of menace.

Trust me, but I can't trust you know
Release me, oh my but I love getting caught
In your shapeless laughter
In your hourglass of my naive happy never after.

Reach for me,
I will bleed for you in angel colours
Trap me,
Try to conceal me like a dove's last flight
Discover me,
Like I am a ruin of what you loved the most.

Let's last,
Let's dive into a poem that we will never write
Fight battles,
As we will always seek the light,
Bleed like me,
As you could never love
A darkness like yours,
My all, my nevermore.

It is a tragedy,
For us to belong, as belonging becomes together
Let's separate,
Bitterless lust, abyssal forever

Of sins, love and charm

If you could see what I have seen you wouldn't dare to look at me the way you look now. I've been through all of the bleak corners of your mind and discovered myself amongst your thousand other women. Other faces in familiar places that you try to destroy with a bohemian smile.

My feet are bruised from running through your narrow streets. Test after test, blink after blink you treat me like a drop in the ocean. I run through your hands like grains of sand that look to return to the desert. But for me you, you are like water. 

All of the men I've come across have been like water. Passing through my hands, ephemeral, cold yet in need to consume it and you desire it not out of lust but out of need. Water gave me the opportunity to cover temporarily, ecstasy and bliss, escaping and dominating. What do you do? Where do you go when his frail mind becomes the sea? Oh my dear water why did you say: I’ve always been one to feel contrite Is it too late now to make things right?

Who are you I ask? Each and every single time. The answer never comes and I am always confronted with the echo of my own voice. Where's your echo? Where's your shadow? I am still waiting for the backdrop. No, no, it's completely wrong. This parade that you put for all of the fools would work sometimes for those that believed in a love that is complete and mysterious and dissolves onto a cascade of miracles. 


I need shadows, echoes, shame, darkness and an incomplete dandy. Put it all together and I shall bring you boxes with paint, drama and maybe a bit of fear. 

Darling, no map can direct how to ever make it home. Therefore let's escape today. To your favourite nowhere, just climb onto my ghostly staircase and let's balance on these pieces of wood like they're wonders.

About falling:

Darling do you like falling?
I've bruised my name on the edge of your palms
You said you would do no harm

My love do you like running?
It is the chase I have longed for
But then you run from all the letters
When I say
Do not leave, love me a little less
Dream of me a little more.

Sleep well my number three disaster
Straight into the black hole
That our minds 
Desired 
Paint me a canvas 
Shaped like a  polka dot laughter.

To care is to endure

While everybody is busy on focusing on their own things I am busy on knitting hope strings.
Getting attached and then cutting lose and letting go.

Standing alone on this side lone, traveling to nowhere, to where your hands are warm and your heart is hot but black like burning coal.
There's no station when you become a train, racing through the life of others and your own.

Abandon yourself to me, abandon grace and loneliness and hold me once and for all.
I have died in your arms many times, I have lived in your memory for decades but now I dissolve myself not into the past but into the future.

Farewell my lover, farewell ruler of the lights
This time our songs end
No rewind, no pause, no breaks
Just present tense
A lullaby as warm as a mother's embrace
Remember me
Because now my love will have no face
Trace
Whatever is left of a heart as genuine as the sky
Farewell my love
This is an ode to goodbye
This night I saw a shadow
He whispered as I left
What can not be cured
By your eyes
It shall be endured.

Open Geometric Structure

Everything constructed strictly by humans lacks humanity.

The paradox of loving and the noble art of letting go.

The Goddess of being and the God without a name.

You try to hold on to new things, new hands, get attached, run away, write poetry, sing new songs, search for past lovers under new blankets, translate manuscripts of the who knows what abstract artist that nobody heard of.

Search for meaning inside of yourself when you my love, my life are just an empty shell.
He told me: you are a beautiful art instalation in this wasteland, and what I can offer is mainly a shadow of who I am.
But darling we're both hung on string,
Of everything
Of everyone,
You were my autumn,
You were my spring,
You became the end where I begin.

So hold me tightly and then let go, it's you that I love and it's you I don't know.
While you are asking for infinite
I merely want what is an end
I don't wish for the abyss
I can not pretend
I want to stop
And offer you
A jungle of dreams
That will never come true.

I can only fly
If I live inside of you,
My quiet rectangle
With dark brush strokes
My
accidental love
On the wrong angle.

Sketches of you

You are the sketch that I have been exploring continuously since I meet you.
Unexplored pastels, unexplored dimensions of black and white.

I've told you ever since I meet you. I love those edges of yours, those violent strokes, those unfinished lines.
I feel in love with the sketch of you, because if you were complete I couldn't add fractures of me.
The beautiful thing is that we don't need to blend in, we'll stay incomplete and we'll face the world together whatever that may be.

The autumn of your leaving is permanent.
You're always absent in this sketch and I am permanently looking everywhere for those abstract strokes of you.
Staring longly and hoping that I'll find you at the corner of the street.
With a limping heart and a narrow view that contains a bruised emotional connection.
Meeting on streets that we didn't plan, getting in debt for borrowing the sky's drawer of colours.

Cover your mind with polka dots and let's escape.
But you are just like me.
A sketch and you won't leave your paper to blend in on mine.
It's paper and strings and pins that separate us.

Until one day your sketch will melt like an ice cube being dragged around in the sun.
In your last moments of consciousness you will see how the sketch of me got so monochrome.
It missed you ...
I lost you in the artificial and selfishness of becoming a piece of architecture.

It's pieces of you I could not catch.
As pieces of me they didn't match.