Nice To Meet You, I am Yours (and You are Mine)
Well, Should I say my name? Should I sit and play? Should I look you in the eye? Anger, calmness, wisdom – what is it you want to see? For…
The Sky Goes Purple
As the sky goes purple and the sun is setting down, are the dreams of mine sinking into bitter wine. As the light goes purple so is my soul…
Welcome, Freedom
Freedom is sacred to me; the moment I feel I have no other words to say and express it, I come up with a new poem which, of course, I dedicate to this friend, lover, God.
A Requiem For the West
When the sun sets and the night descends, it always comes from west. He sings and whispers words of summer, corn fields and freedom. He comes to melt away the day and usher in pure darkness, where we could hide, wait and die.
Poetry Is Life
Poetry is like bread – it needs flour and yeast. If you want to turn the words into something bigger, more palpable, divine, you need to use a special thing – emotions, real and ocean deep. This is what breathes life in a verse.
It Was Just a Dream
Dreams could be a gate to another world: beautiful and sad, magical but simple, lovely yet scary. And as much as we realise dreams are just dreams and nothing more, we keep wanting to meet them in this world full of promises and beautiful illusions.
Black Kiss
When writing this poem, I was thinking about the kiss between the ocean and the horizon when the sun goes down and darkness creeps out and engulfs everything.Then, at this moment, the water and the sky kiss each other until they become one entity – black and deep.
Turn To Stone
A dark and mysterious poem leading the way to the depths of the human soul, where all fears lie askew hidden under centuries of dust and dirt. Everything is covered in oblivion, memories appear and disappear suddenly, unwelcome. And in the darkest room, our hearts face eternity, turning slowly into stones.
Ghosts
Even if we don’t want to, we often linger in the past. These are dark times full of shadows and ghosts – of things that were, that could have happened or just lies. But if your heart is pure and honest, it could be your protection. The clouds disperse and you see the sun again.
Words Unspoken
Sometimes, especially in the cold and long winter nights, we would live somewhere between reality and fantasy, and nothing could ever tell them apart. Then we would remember faces we had never met, long for dreams we had never dreamt and recall words never spoken before.
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