contemporary poetry

of romania

was looking
for a first edition of Cioran
Bucharest centrum
when the clouds started to resemble
huge Russian cathedrals –
the formulas of the shades
when the leaves impress their echo
on the sidewalk
multiplied the shadows of my doubts
was the equation of invisibility
the sole proof of my awareness?
could enlightenment
reemerge
as the metronome of two insect antennae
at the feet of a unambitious cop
sipping his coffee?
I was at the edge
blurred by the stream of accelerating
cosmic mirage
awaiting a cacophony of perception
to belittle the borders of I-ness and other-ness,
corridors of unwavering brilliance
like the eyes of the drunk woman
that woke up moments ago
after dreaming on the sidewalk
that she was a cat
licking with her coarse tongue
the creamy nipples of the
colorless night.

 

 

Poetry 2011

intonations of the bizarre

 

presence.

the cliff of a perfume
without warning
shattering my glass of mindlessness
awake at a bridge

caterpillar of eyes in a crowd
dragging the body of time to nowhere

the grass grows like punks from the cathedral

the tattoo was arrested
from the cadence of her breasts

the oblique sunlight was lighting up
his face like a field of camels
a wealth of lifelong wayfaring

the extinct tribes are hidden in Berlin
where a sprinkle of immesurabilitttty
is part of any local

perfume.

about a girl

Since she had lost
all crystals and ponds in her eyes
I had reason to believe
that a furious cobweb
had adhered to her forehead
as a continent of thistle
rooted in the wasteland of her frivolous skin
and yet I’m sure that she was once radiant
as a mirror pointed to the sea,
that once her teeth were rays
piercing through her naturally bitter lips
transforming her semblance
from rock to clouds of summer –
Yes! I had good reason
to suppose that if she were a bed
her springs would pierce out from
the mattress to torture my sleep,
but being still a napkin
her asperity would crack
at the touch of
the first drop
of a kiss.

Poetry 2011

voluminous

carmine essence clouds

Cumulous figment of joy

the art of white eyes

I sense a bird stretching experience

colonizing an empty nest of laughter

my tongue is ripe with twilight

savoring the underbelly of clouds

their pink veins of magic

the iris coils on expanses of clarity

carmine volumes of essence.

 

 

 

above distinction

Is there a possibility
of ache and wonder

some knowledge
of cave and cadence

has man
any recognition
of the dream
in the edifice
of infinity

the sun
is drowning
in red essence

everything
sleeps
like a butterfly
in flight

lucid
shapeless
earth.

revolutions of the heart

ancient_heart_poem

I only dream
of filling the body with dry sand
to relegate desire to veins of darkness
flowing relentlessly towards a dragging sea –
if hands and fangs were buried in true illusion,
thirsty accidents and ultimate beginnings;
the taste of polar penumbras
to blind the eyes with totality
defoliate the skin as absurd autumns
to lay thought as a carpet over existence
and roll down the slopes of nothingness,
as the denuded birds throw off their wings
to join the worms wallowing in the mud
of my ancient heart.

 

 

Poetry 2011

arm of silence

New silence poetry

Robbed by arm of silence
So gripped by gust of blood
Skin and memory
Armored in the forgotten touch
My borrowed energy
In the wisp of a climax
There in the moment
Of utter gentleness
Passivity
I am passing by
The tortures of knowing
Essence of ugliness and existence
As a prostitute of pain
I am the swallowing,
Bubbles of rain and rust
The peel of utter
Hidings, remnants
Like anthill happiness.

signify if not the fear

Poetry blog

Poem of dew legs
towards the heavy
impulse of bottom breath
the eyes turn road to exile
laughing culmination of clouds

poem of bitter it
ourselves tapping one universe
adhered living blindness
the motion of emptiness
the physics higher and unbroken

poem of tide or meaning
wrestling rustle of weight
hands dancing communication
the voice of whole suffering fingers
back and forth in speeding wounds

poem of cigarettes
transformation the blurry face
a voice of fatal fury
the organ of trembling gray
to smoke the blue song

a chasm of notes
eternally
behind the thistle
of your victim
eyes.

 

 

Poetry 2011

from the urinal

pee poem

I’m a starry sky
staring down a urinal
yellow piss
but isn’t it cute enough
to be a golden stream of light?
I have a nose, mirror!
it’s sticking out my fucking face
I’m ruined
the candle is going out
and there is so much more drink
to saturate the clouds of my eyes
I’m at a part
ending this exercise
of absolution
chirp, chirp
a tongue on the roofs,
I have a fantasy
you see,
wet, damp like the grass
or the epiphany of flight
my lungs are tired
a mouthful of beer
to exist
and in some room,
to sleep.

Absurd (Drunken) Poetry