few poems in English and Romanian

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I just am…
Beyond the borders of being,
You multiply me in eternity
And the atoms of my mind are silenced in this prayer.

I pass the clocks
hanged on walls I somehow recognize.
They are all frozen,
like my memories of them in a glass of opium.

My breathing spreads inwards
only there’s no bottom,
there’s no window to draw icy sparkles on.

There’s smell of dead leafs,
And chrysanthems and candles in a church
from a long gone age…
And Your smile still caresses me with light.

But now they all come back to me-
All that I loved invades me
Cary my breath among them.
I am just another miracle…
just like them.



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Flow of bodies…
Tension stretched in the thick air of movement
and animal instinct.
The beat fills the bodies,
like an anaesthetic paralysing the consciousness...

Rhythm..
All is stripped of any other state of being.
This is existence
naked to its basic element: movement.
Sound and colour violating the bodies,
brutalizing the organs.
Pleasure of destruction- of self destruction.
Nothing of the self exists anymore.

I drink it all.
Chaotic liquid spreading though my body.
I feel my brain is drained in the endless whirl of the beat.
Growing more obsessive,
it possesses the mass of bodies
like an orgasm of limbs and breathing.
The frantic lights rape the subconscious of any control...
the beat is the only term of power.
Pure drink of madness and chaos…
I get even drunker.
Feels good..
I live..

__________________


I’ve finally stabbed my limits…
I’ve stretched them for a long time
And now they dont know their way back

Like a woman with ragged clothes
I walk around with my self
Discarding the blood of my breath.

I will rape all this clothes off
until I’ll reach my skin.
Naked, I will walk among others
with no fear of being pick pocketed

And if I grow weary of my skin,
maybe I will enjoy peeling it as well…
Why do I have to hang
on to something I don’t need
to something that buries me?
Just because I cradled in love
these limits, my skin?

I trample and I’m stuck,
and my feet forget to move
and than they forget the memory of moving.
Than my hands don’t reach for the warmth of light
and for the coldness of icy winter.
They become stiff
like cadavers they were once not afraid to touch,
and than they don’t remember how is feels to reach
how is to spread the fingers.
In the end they forget themselves…
It’s only the mouth which feeds itself
with random kisses and lips.
That doesn’t die.
But she is only a mechanical monkey.

So why hang on to them?

I didn’t plan to
but it happened unexpectedly,
and believe it or not
it wasn’t that painful-
yes… few weeks ago,
when you tore one more patch
off my coat,
and you froze my last finger (the darling pinkie…)
-than I just said f… to all
and I just got rid of all this needless baggage,
of this clothes heavy with memories, nostalgia and pain,
and of my aging skin.

I’ll grow another layer
since this is something I’ll come back to later.

Ps. I already have new clothes… they fit me awesome (according to my old measurements). I just have to grow the skin again… it will come

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Pe scirciul din poteca, ma hitiam sperind sa fiu ochita
Pe scaunul singuratic, ma lupt prometeic in mijlocul scenei..
Citeodata sunt eroina, citeodata doar bufon
In patul somnului,
sunt scena pe care se hitie cind eroina cind bufonul cind copila

______________________

Fetze din oglinzi de fum imi zimbesc triste..
toate sunt la fel.. toate cu acelesi nume:Eu
se peterc pe rind fara de sine,
lasindu-ma goala, ca un cerc, o gaura , un gol.

Incerc sa le ating
dar mina-mi impinge golul
devenind gol

Nu mai exista eu.. ci doar fumurile din oglinzi
Mereu spectatoare la prorpia-mi neputinta de a fi

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Picior nud pe asfalt -.
talpa mea.
Printre degetele pictate,
Unsoarea neagra
se strecoara voluptos
alunecind sleioasa-
placerea dezgustului.

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Si totusi..
Si totusi tot mai fur prezente lumii nevazute,
ce bintuie buimaca printre noi
Si totusi tot mai simt suflarea lumii fara nume
Si fluxul unei clipe ratacita din cadran
Tot mai ajung sa-mi sfarm din cind in cind oglinda
Din care eul imi rinjeste vesnic prea fudul.

Si totusi dragostea ma umple
sa pot zbura zefiric in prezent
Sa vad cu ochii limpezi si deschisi,
s-aud c-urechile cit pilnii,
sa simt cu pielea ca un sarpe,
ce soarbe in extaz forme si intelesuri.

Tu tot mai esti cu mine,
si-mi dai din cind in cind un brinci in infinit
____________________

Am trait un veac..
Poate.. nu stiu.. nu-mi amintesc..
Se poate sa fi fost o clipa
Sau o saptamina
Am uitat sa-mi insemnez calendarul
Sau poate mi-am consumat timpul
Poate clipa care se scurge continuu
a oboist-
prea multe anuntui-
am interrupt-o obraznic cu tipat de telefoane
si cu cifre colorate in vitrine.
Punct.
Clipa se naste din Punct
Obsesiv, acopera si umple clipa,
transformind-o in present.
A doua nastere a clipei, dincolo de timp

_______________________


Late night..
The skin looks alive
more vivid, again, after ages.
Something moves in the air,
inescapable and beyond the consciousness.

Between words at the microphone,
the breath of the walls covers the mass of brains.
Sharp and on the edge, the thought moves without words,
It stumbles in their form and meaning …
Everyone is staring at the moving lines on stage
a body uttering meaning and words
Trying to reiterate the escape from systems.

I feel like walking and dancing on stage
A want to shock and awake the dormmice..
Crossed legs at the end of the rows
aligned as soldiers, as the black suits on stage,
as the hanged portraits dangling above the air.

Thought the pores of my feet
Existence is amplified at tenth square root


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“stii totul, ai?”
Pa fata mamei,
un zimbet larg se-ntinde.

l-am intrebat
unde sunt ochii.
mi-a aratat doi ochi negriciosi si zimbareti
l-am intrbat unde e nasul,
si mi-a aratat nasuc ca-l unui minz
„unde-s urechile?”
„aci, mai linga cap”
„iar piciorul?
Intinde jucaus genunchiul:
„Aci”

Multumita, mama il apuca-n brate
“stii totul, ai?
Si zimbetul i se pierde in spatele usilor de tren.


______________________


Este placut sa dainui in prezent
Sa-mi tes agale gindul
Sa-mi despletesc pe rind
Si-n taina eul
Sa il cuminec cu ce-i sfint in jur:
cu un pahar de vin umplindu-si umbra,
cu doi papuci ce parce vor a plece,
si din freastra zumzaitul strazii.

La ceas tirziu in noapte
Imi despletesc ocara,
sarbatorind “a fi”ul


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O, Rodin,
catedralele tale
sunt miini zvelte, gingase.
Se arcuiesc nesfirsit
Intr-o bolta de gratie
Inaltind spatiul arcadelor gotice

Catedralele vietii
Sunt miini noduroase si-ncretite,
impletite ca doua radacini de stejar
darimind spatiul
in ultima lor rugaciune.


__________________


Draga Blaga,

Ma sez cu tine
La masa Marelui Anonim
Si impartasesc cu tine taina
Sporind corola de minuni a lumii.

Nu-i mult cuvint,
caci timpul tot sopteste
iar spatiul sa framinta
si cind l-apuc se-n doaie

stam clatori la masa,
si dumicam prezentul:
tu reflectind,
eu dulmecind.

Cind masa se termina
sunt satula.
Am dumicat din vesnicie
doar o tira,
dar a ramas destul
sa ne hranim cu totii
din minune tainicului ‘a fi’
rasuflul Marelui Anonim.


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Marea se sparge in valuri voluptoase,
si totusi e tacere.
In mine golul este mut
si plin de fiinta

Golul cel plin nu se revarsa inca.
Il caut,
il adulmec.
Sub oglindiri umede se misca invizibil,
lumea cea plina a golului.

Aud din nou tacerea…
Imi inmoi degetul
in fiinta
care se dilata peste noi,
in spatiile ce la credem masurate.

__________


Pe plaiul mintii,
adun in buchete ,
ginduri raslete.
Le asez in camara inimii
Si le ud
Cu cite o lacrima de fericire


_________


La poalele garii,
sinele se rasfira,
ca plete pieptanate in vint


__________


Posteritatea:
toti o denunta si se-afirma nepasatori
eu Nu.


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Imagini prizoniere
zvircolidu-se-n carnea asteptinda.

Mai vreau o carne-nfiorata
sa o framint
intre pielea amintirii si a trupului

oras zbircit
cu blocuri de provincie
si gropi ridate in asfalt



un ceas singuratic s-a oprit la 3:35


si tu tot nu-mi mai iesi din piele

imi ploua
odata
sinc-o data
in palma intinsa,
imbratisarea ta.
te voi regasi in alt trup.

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Tacerea mi-a crescut crengi in ceruri fara numme,
Pasari cu aripi grele se adapa in mine
si zbor fara urma.
In goliciunea mea, plinatatea si-a gasit orizonturi

In spatíul sfintit lumina dilata cugetul in infinit,
iar gindul se-ndoaie sub propria-i rigoare.
Ramine tacerea cea cuminte
duminecind  prezentului farime de vesnicii

In cadranul timpului, mustatile ceasului sunt confuze
Doar universul ne mai ticaie prezentul, masurind Neantul.
Fintina trecerii isi tulbura oglinzile
Framintind  ceruri si cuvinte noi