CONTEMPORARY POETRY

Si a stiut sa scrie viata / And he could spell Life

                      Si a stiut sa scrie viata   Un baiat nu stia Sa scrie decât propriul sau nume Nu conteaza care Era acel nume Atunci se îndragosti de o fata. O fata cu ochi adânci si frumosi, Ochi care l-au învatat sa citeasca. O fata vie si calda Ca o vara. El Îi iubea miscarea plina de viata Cu care îsi scutura parul plin...Read More »

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Ti è mai capitato?

                    Ti è mai capitato? Ti è mai capitato di vedere una persona e capire che in qualche modo ti appartiene? Un appartenere di sensi, di labbra quasi fosse una tua seconda pelle. Ti è mai capitato di pensare a una persona quando ti svegli e prima di addormentarti? Vedertela lì, insieme a te in un dialogo fatto di...Read More »

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Ho posato la maschera

                    Ho posato la maschera     Ho posato la maschera Ho posato la maschera e mi sono visto allo specchio…. Ero il bambino di tanti anni fa…. Non ero cambiato per niente…. E’ questo il vantaggio di sapersi togliere la maschera Si è sempre il bambino il passato che resta, il bambino. Ho posato la maschera e me la sono rimessa. Così...Read More »

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Irinel

                    Irinel “…to remember many, many years from now the time when I was thirteen and when my most fervent wish was not to have passed away before I have lived Life.” “The day when with a twitch Happy and full of wonder I sipped the air’s scent Welcoming me sweet and bitter Inciting me to the...Read More »

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Sunday

                Sunday My Sunday is a gorgeous sunny day (f-i-n-a-l-l-y the sun shines!). I’m sitting on my balcony, with finches and robins flying loops in the space between two big maples trees. I’m reading the June-July issue of American Poetry Review, there are 12 new poems by Elaine Equi, a fine poet,...Read More »

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The Muse

                              The Muse   Far ahead of me, I see my Muse dressed plainly in a tan skirt and a white blouse, She is waving a bright yellow scarf in her left hand. Her right hand she holds open, palm facing me, as if she were halting something.   .      .      .      “Follow after,...Read More »

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A field in Romania

                    A  field in Romania  In Spring, in a field stretching across Romania,a man and a woman stand side by side,their hands lightly clasped, on their facesthe suggestion of a smile. The man is attentiveto her needs, she is fascinated with his stories.Their stance displays the goodness of the rightpeople. They are...Read More »

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Approaching Spring

                    Approaching Spring   To the sound of a deep melodylike the circuit of the seawise CHILD with summer’s blood in your veinshere, in this cold northern country,help me to remember what has been lovedand to dream what will be loved. To the sound of talk and tearslike the softest tones of Chopin’s piano,quiet...Read More »

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4 Metaphors About The Moon

                    4 Metaphors About The Moon  I.My heart is a well within, where clear waters raise if it rains,mixed with mud.The moon inside it grows and dwindles continuously.She breaks for me her bread, I share with her my water.The more dreams I carry on my back, the more she shines brighter. II.Because of...Read More »

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Let Us Be Poetry

                  Let Us Be Poetry I think that in this shattered World,As cruel and cold as it may be,We’ll find the softness of a bird,In some great piece of poetry. A Poem that will read your heart,Give it the love that makes it start,Surrounds you with musical scales,Hoists up, imaginary sails. I think that...Read More »

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