dear friend

i wish you a happy new year with a little bit of joy each day of it!

short but lived happyness

I'm so happy right here, right now
this moment, this instance, this flow all around
it's short, and it's life, and it's fading away
like the air I breathe, it's not meant to be here to stay

darul craiesei albinelor pentru harap-alb cel fugit în lume şi mult depărtat

în inima mea
este o camera
închisă bine
pentru tine

e o cameră goală
unde am pus deoparte
doar spatiu
galaxii întregi de spaţiu
neţărmurit spaţiu

falling into autumn

dead leaves coming alive
winds turning

te dizolvi

ca zahărul în limonadă
după 10 lovituri
de lingurită
în vârtejul acru

te dizolvi
ca zahărul în cafea
topit în fierbinţeala
amareală

te dizolvi
ca zahărul în prăjitură
amestecat în coptătură

te dizolv
pe gâtul meu în jos

te înghit

ramâne din tine doar povestea

the world without you

hollow
aching
scrambled
spinning
unforgiving

from inside
darkness
overflow
boiling

unthreading

i think i will garbage the you you have become
because my caring gets laughed at by the growling void you have erected all around

iubirea în absenţă

nu m-am simţit nicicând
iubită de la depărtare,
în tăcere,
în absenţă,
în ciuda semnelor de întrebare,

iubită ca o stare de fapt
autonom,

chiar şi când nu te gândeai la mine

m-am simţit iubită lângă tine
de mână cu tine
în braţe la tine
vorbind cu tine
în gând la tine
fiind cu tine

dar singură - o lipsă prea adâncă
de negândit
de aceea nici n-am putut-o gândi
şi am ascuns-o în toate colţurile bârlogului nostru
până ce ne-am sufocat prelung şi irevocabil

the poetry in my daily prose - dishwashing

repeatedly
i find myself bound by the laws of daily living
to wash dishes
splashy and noisy and trashy,
it requires attention
to the morsels of existence stuck on the verges of plates
it requires willingness
for the slippery shadows of by now consumed food passions
it requires involvement
with the stubbornness of life's messiness to repeat itself on each fork

and it creates a circle of solitude
for me to be
in it
alone

august

intre timp, s-a facut august

să las deoparte bătălia asta cu mine şi doar să trăiesc, aşa cum sunt...

fear of feeling down, avoiding fear of feeling down, feeling down, feeling guilty for feeling down ...and then playing with it

I am scared
terrified
frozen of fear
of not being good enough

not being good enough to write a paper on my own
not being good enough to help people
not being good enough to earn my living
not being good enough to know how to help and support my friends
not being good enough to know how to love a man in a way that completes him and gives him wings
not being good enough to ever be able to take care of my parents or my little sister

i am terrified that i have to be extraordinary in at least some little way
if i am to be enough for at least one of this things
to work out
and i feel ordinary
and clumsy
and all the time i pretend i know what i'm doing
hoping with desperation
that i will finally convince myself of this cheap act
and my role will become my life

i feel ordinary and i am afraid to think that i might actually be ordinary
somehow being ordinary feels like less than ordinary
feels not good enough
incapable
deficient
meaningless
and what scares me most, it feels hurtful to others
like i'm a little bit of a hazard

i see myself fail over and over again
from the intellectual pursuits
to the human contact realm
of course i never really failed big time
no obvious, objectively quantifiable failure
but i can always feel it coming, right up the next corner
i am still floating by some weird conjunction of external conditions
nothing due to myself
to any inner strength of mine

and now i feel bad for thinking these depressive thoughts
just like all ordinarily depressed people
which just shows how un-extraordinary i am

and there i have it - the classic circle of suffering

now i will just play with it and post it here

the poetry in my daily prose

why is it such an extraordinaire challenge to get out of the bed in the morning?
the cruelty in the first fully awaken breath
the dizzying fist step
the vertigo of light and things to be done
the reality all around

to give up pillow metaphysics
with all those possible parallel multiple-verses
of simmering soft sensuous sleep
it is no easy feat

urlet

îmi urlă inima în piept
şi mă topesc în circumstanţe
am ape, şoapte şi dovezi
şi pălmile arzânde
ascuns adânc în esofag
se răsucesc cuvinte

o frică mare
un gol între mine şi tine
o tăcere stridentă

şi trece viaţa prin mine
ca lumina printr-o radiografie
urlet

lumea e plina

 

 

flooded by thoughts

beat by beat
each move
each past second
fills me up in thoughts

I see thoughts
hear and feel thoughts
they plunge in my stomach on their journey around this homely body of mine
getting a little dizzy, a little sick
drowning a little bit

I feel like a basic reaction to you
where is the everything else?

my hell is bright

my hell is bright
and sunny
and sparkling and light

it is this cover of warmth over the desert of icy departures
it is this feeling of high trapped in the impossibility of sharing

oveisallyou need

feel it under your skin
deep
within
feel it buried in your mind
feel it sleeping down your spine
feel it breathing in your ears
dripping shudders through the tears
feel it push the soul out from you
making way for all the fears
and the dears
feel what just is there
and be what just happens

feel it
and allow for all the things in the world to exist
because without the awareness of love all the things in the world crumble

all you need is love, ove, ove....

but where and why and when and how

and how

how dose this love thing work?

the big life

the heavy rain

the sadness, the anger, the pain

the worries 

the plans

the meaning of aims

the big list of things to be done and all the games

the before and the after

the what will and how was

the million ways to get lost in your mind

the joy

the elation

the struggle to get it again

the fun and the laughs

and the feeling of ending

the all and the every, the each and the any

to fill up our heart

forever coming tsunamis to wash our shores of thin lives

how could love ever be enough

like i was saying...

put your leaves in the air

and  wave em like you just don't care

 

kids can stretch the fabric of reality

optimist

i always stood for happiness
in our talks of life and meaning
of death and light
i always did,
my love, actually

i always said let's make our rules
you can decide
to care about people
and hold their hands
and be their friends

so now
i am to invent again happiness in being without you,
my love, actually

should i fall in love
with you forever happily unhappy?
should i give another chance to life
and then betray you
to be unhappily happy again?

either way - happiness is
i stand for it still
i just so wished it were happiness with you
my love, actually

mi-e dor

ca o întindere
ca o furtună
ca o mare
dor
ca o aşteptare

ca o dorinţă în neputinţă

significant, a poem inspired by research and the sea

 

what is significant?

i mean

day after day

long night after long night

short, limited sleep after short, limited sleep

working hour after working hour

sweet surrender after sweet surrender

what is that is to be called significant?

sometimes in science we measure the truth by means of significance

a significant difference

to make all the difference

between no idea

and this could be something

but even in science significance is a game

with statistical rules

and you can get significantly good at playing

and be significantly someone

but, hell, you're just playing 

so my question poem here is saying

where's the daily significant difference

?

by which to sort out our daily truth

and feel like a significant someone, anonymously meaningful

the sea just exists

no significance testing needed

though it might be that it exists just from the sake of our eyes

and ears

and skin

and nose

and the highly improbable soul

but by all means and human standards, it exists

so what of that?!

some things don't need to be significant?

de dragoste, totuşi

Şi eşti cu mine tot timpul

ca un motan cocoţat pe umărul meu
într-un fel cald
într-un fel greu
într-un fel tandru
într-un fel rece

eu merg prin lume
şi tu eşti cu mine tot timpul
un călător ascuns
nu ai platit bilet şi nu eşti pe lista de pasageri
nu exişti nicăieri

Şi eşti cu mine tot timpul şi locuieşti pe umărul meu, într-un fel cald, greu, tandru şi rece

night light
and a faery
living among us

night light
and faery-tales are real
and a heartbeat

hazing small centimeters of this world
so that it becomes
more and more bizzare
slowly
turning it into strangeness and weirdness
softness and wonderness

the beat
of the heart
of the faery
of the night
of the light

Meet Fiona.
She is a diva dog.
You can see it in her eyes.

Life is a mess
It is tangled and dirty and sad
pointless and bizarre
and somewhere there inside
you find Fiona,
a being so light

Fiona is real
she is presently real
momentarily happy
momentarily sad
and always real

Fiona is reality with diva eyes.
And you can see it in her eyes.