STORIES
Posted on June 16, 2015 by magda
Hamburgher ori franzela cu parizer
Timpul ne mai da cate un ghiont din cand in cand, amuzandu-se: ”iti mai aduci aminte?!”. Imi aduc aminte bine toate cele…nimic nu am uitat, cum spune Darie.
In vara lui 2005 am venit acasa in vacanta, am lasat in urma avionului Finlanda occidentala si m-am reintors...
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Posted on June 9, 2015 by magda
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Posted on April 1, 2015 by magda
The wounded healer
This humanity
blinded
by consumerism,
envy,
ignorance,
bigotry,
selfishness,
greediness,
this blind and deaf
humanity is
addicted to
abused words
and needs
a white cane,
to help it
find
the path.
So, I
collect words.
Used,
broken,
senseless,
dying,
barely breathing,
scared,
vintage words.
Who
out of mercy will revive the single essential word that will be the white cane to save
our humanity? Say it!
Thank you, Daniel Brick, for loving the words, for helping...
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Posted on March 25, 2015 by magda
Donation
I have collected
words
since I was born fascinated by their
power
uniqueness.
I’d like to donate
words,
excessively used,
eventually broken,
some without sense,
so they could fill
an empty silence
some wounded,
mutilated,
so they could fit
in the Procrustes’ bed
of a text message
or a Facebook ‘share’,
some without soul,
so they’d be fit
to lie.
Their letters could be
reused
for different purposes
and arrangements.
I have collected
words
since I was born...
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Posted on March 25, 2015 by magda
Mountain Ash
Mornings’ tears refresh your eyesOccult forces in disguiseUrns of ashes from the skies.Name of names and One of onesTime will call the Son of sonsAlchemy that heals and stuns.In my dreams I pass time throughName of names, to drink from you.
All my eyes perceive your mindSecular with you to...
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Posted on March 1, 2015 by magda
The legend of Martisor
Once upon a time there was an old woman named, Dochia, who lived in the Carpathians, in that country who has the shape of a heart, called Romania.
Dochia had a son who married a young innocent girl. The son was a shepherd; he lived far away from...
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Posted on February 16, 2015 by magda
Willed out
I live vis-à-vis.I see you every morningnakedthrough your wide opened windows.If you saw me,you’d smile,so I hide.I study you.I count the women you wear every nightand I mark thosewho gain their rightto open your morning windows.I know your true facewhile you are alone.I even saw you cryingafter you loved...
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Posted on January 20, 2015 by magda
Garden of War
The pain in their eyes, still fresh, bleeding. I know their sleepless nights, trying to put together the missing pieces of this puzzle called life. A Poet who writes in the garden and then must write in the war, may loose the silence of his soul, fear and...
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Posted on January 17, 2015 by magda
Birthdays
I’ll bake tonight a rounded caketo celebrate the wish I makeI’ll lit my candles with the Moonand let them glow in nightly gloom.
I wish myself a better year,to feel and see what I can’t hear,and as a snake sheds its own skinI’d like to shed my old chagrin.
In darkened room...
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Posted on January 11, 2015 by magda
Hypocrisy
She’s dressed in black with white high heels,
A designed dress her ways reveals,
She fakes some tears with mini skills,
She hides her face and what she feels.
She wants to say: “I am a saint,
I can’t bear badness, I do faint,
I talk to angels while I paint,
I am suave, fragile and quaint”.
Her...
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