* . images are but borrowing from reality which needs to express inner pulsions . words are but knitting of thoughts not yet fully born savory ephemeral . . stepping stones are my favorite to advance from the inside out to a nicer view . from the outside in for a more intimate look as […]
Reverberations, 2013 Images are
Rispondi
* poetry writing each poems a snap shot for things that happened for fleeting feelings . for things wished for . images of possible impossibilities for cruelty unclaimed and unjudged for actions sore as open wounds for kisses not to vanish away . lining up words as on a drying line shaking them off a […]
* . dotting stains window glasses plaguing monochrome gray gentle wind running between drops incessantly soft persistent i will just linger as underwater swimming . . Filed under: Poetry
* to be with you it’s like jumping on a racing train feeling the air against my face stronger than . when I was running alone on my own legs me giving you my face with a smile fixed by the fast pace . we in time out of time running out of time . […]
* belonging to oneself . is more important for some than belonging to another no need to explain choices nor to be dissipated in the dark longing to be . . Filed under: Poetry
* a place where is no expectations from others to be some kind of perfect god under sunshine to relax where everything in its natural beauty lines up me not too big nor too small for some people doors where my key wasn’t fitting may be one of my crazy dreams . . Filed under: […]
* to meet a man with not past . of no recent past better a man . that doesn’t call past what is . present that knows his tenses . to meet a man with a past that . made him vulnerable yet . secure to take risks in spite of . to be that […]
* . He likes the golden I carry I thought he visited us often – he comes regularly at my eyelids doors . He sits on blonde eyelashes and whispers showing me stories to teach me the curvy way of love . He loves on my trembling lips budding up and
flies low on the […]
*** . rest in winter acceptance in the happy silence . feel your roots dancing slowly underground . stretching toward the needed death is but an attire . -Dec. 2009- . . Filed under: Poetry
* we are not in the race how do others run so persistently we recognize each other by a few comments . doomed to freedom . handicapped by too many falls we are pros not amateurs the intended and the unintentional . no one is as beautiful as we are unique almost original . . […]