*** 

A visit to a friend

I’ve come to you like coffee.

My soul is heavy with the rain,

It’s leaving fleeting traces on your chair.

I’ve come to you like a cigar

A moment we remain hanging in the smoke

As dreaming bubbles above this world….

Please play the purifying music

Of those times when we’ve been conceived -

And I’ll be back to you at midnight -

A melody you can’t get out of your mind.

***

Supernal revelation

Kiss me and I’ll look into

The blue embracing gently

Air, houses and birds.

Like that, we have embraced us in the time –

It’s time to lay the bed for us.

***

Night temples

After all that useless sins

Do you feel the soul rising shamelessly?

Ice nails are winking by the eyes

Like stars in unseen churches.

***

A sigh

The wind is flashing over the dark skin.

A current pierces me to the bones, I feel like crying…

The stars are glowing scales

Left of us

Over the dark skin of night.

***

Beyond my strength

Why have I laughed at what

Today I swear by.

Why have I raised you,

City of my dreams, so high,

My small home withers in the shadow?

This time

I long for growing in a tree

To break your cruel castles up.

***

I wonder

The table’s staying with the cloth in white.

A woman having waited for the host all night.

The cigarette-hole’s showing rotten wood.

The hollow’s picking up the crumbs,

It will be, it won’t be –

The sparrow’s pecking them.

I’ve lost the beads,

They’ve rolled to somewhere.

I wonder if the sparrow’s children have been sated with

The bread of hope.

***

Creation

Every bright creation is a hard dream today.

As if unseen magic’s pulling the wires

But when we step in – it takes to its heels.

As if we’ve been living for a long time -

Yet a second has been tickling us.

You actually exist – why can’t I kiss you?

***

No home

I mixed together soap with water

And started to recall –

A bubble fat and warm like Mother,

Another one stiff, firm like Father;

One for the pure solace that is called Friend,

One multiform like Love.

They piled together – a balloon

As big as God Himself.

Through it I looked upon the motley world –

I was about to see

Illusions in the sundown,

The motion in the eye’s periphery becoming true…

But better so be it – unfinished,

Born from an artist’s hand –

With a feeling of something lived not to the end,

That is to stay even after body –

A dream with which it’s lightly for the soul to kiss

And gently to step over.