the poem doesn’t have stanzas, it has a body, the poem doesn’t have lines,/ it has blood, the poem is not written with letters, it’s written/ with grains of sand and kisses, petals and moments,...

Like young fern shootsmy child’s fingers curled.I did not expect,in the fifth month, frost.

The Law of the Jungle NOW this is the Law of the Jungle — as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that...

I’m heading for a clean-named placelike Wisconsin, and mad as a jack-o’-lantern, will get therewithout help and nosy proclivities.

I can’t shake you.

I cannot go to school today”Said little Peggy Ann McKay.”I have the measles and the mumps,A gash, a rash and purple bumps.My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.I’m going blind in my right eye.My...

PASSIONS are likened best to floods and streams:The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb;

Dance is the guide of the spirit’s journey to the stairway of heaven.

Scientific People, unscientific mind; why are we dividing the world which could shine? Between religion and science, all what matters is human lives.

Secure in his flightRider on the constant windsHawk flies through his daysLooks then to the eastPrompted by fate’s gentle breezeChanges his intentFate’s gentle breezesMove the mighty heart to changeDestiny remade

Phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled.

I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm cuz I’d rather be left for dead than wondering what thunder sounds like.

Once upon a timeI fell in loveLost myselfAnd find another one.

it does seemthe more we drinkthe better the wordsgo.

There is a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out.

Is it possible to write a poem or are these words just screams of outlaws exiled to the desert?

I thought I was growing wings—it was a cocoon.I thought, now is the time to stepinto the fire—it was deep water.Eschatology is a word I learnedas a child: the study of Last Things;facing my mirror—no...

Che pensieri soavi,che speranze, che cori, o Silvia mia!Quale allor ci appariala vita umana e il fato!Quando sovviemmi di cotanta speme,un affetto mi premeacerbo e sconsolato,e tornami a doler di mia sventura.O natura, o natura,perché...

I’m not your blue-eyed Czech,I’m just a brown-eyed girl, A little mix of rock your world,And now you’ll never be the same. You grabbed me by the hand,I grabbed you by the neck. I changed...

The red washingdown the bathtubcan’t change the color of the seaat all.

LET’S GO BACK HOMEI can’t think about you,Without smiling.What I wouldn’t give,To go back there,Take you in my arms,Kiss you, And tell you,”I still love you.”It’s been three decades now,And still your smile’s with me,Your...

YENWhat happens if you take a cup? Put it to your lips. A cup of desire. Of dazzling colour. Of intoxicating aroma. You can’t resist. Drink. And in the bottom of the cup. There is...

Don’t ask me any questions. I’ve seen how things that seek their way find their void instead.

Give me another Chance Then, You will Get Less than I Gain…

I wanted you mine. I wanted me yours.

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art–Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd watching, with eternal lids apart,Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,The moving waters at their priestlike taskOf pure ablution round earth’s...

Olipa kerran tyttö,joka tahtoi olla prinsessa.Pää 100% tylliä,kahvipakettikruunuja taukoamaton polotus:kerrokerrokuvastinkerro kuka, arvaa kuka!Herne patjan alla murenee tomuksi,mutta tyttö juoksee yöt metsiä, suuteleesammakoita ja sammakoilla kielivatsanpohjaan saakka.Kokonaisen kesän tyttö roikottoo palmikoita vintin ikkunasta,vaikka kylän pojat kivittävät...

Do not trap yourself into an owl’s hooting soundwhere sad nights linger through the blackness of a hound

Hasten Little Maiden…stop and listenfor pearls of wisdomstop and listen as the river glistens…

Sin prevenciones me doy vuelta y siguenaquellos dos a la izquierda del robleeternos y escondidos en la lluviadiciéndose quién sabe qué silencios.No sé si alguna vez les ha pasado a ustedespero cuando la lluvia cae...

…when the petals fallSay it is beautiful and good, say it is well

I have to find a place to hideAn island in the seaSurrounded by a racing tideWhere I can live with me

Life shows us all colours, some bright and some shades of grey,Some accept with a smile, while some frown in every wayThoughts and memories never end but life does one day.Whole age passes by in...

Poems are never finished – just abandoned

if onlyour tongueswere made of glasshow muchmore carefulwe would bewhen wespeak

LIFE ON ITS EDGE”What the title reflects?It says about life’s edge”Edge, where life has nothing,nothing to achieve.But wait is there,that it will gonna over in this believe”No power, no strength but there’s just weakness,All attempts...

She had blue skin. And so did he. He kept it hid, And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by – And never knew.

An orphans curse would drag to hellA spirit from on high;But oh! How more horrible that thatIs the curse in a dead man’s eye!

Dance is that delicacy of life radiating every particle of our existence with happiness.

Her touch is like doing simple mathWhen she sleeps in the bed, subtracting clothesThere is a red ink, like a sparkling red wine, adding colorsDividing body, remembering gods, without multiplying

I have been one acquainted with the night.I have walked out in rain – and back in rain.I have outwalked the furthest city light.I have looked down the saddest city lane.I have passed by the...

The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest— Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at...

Yo nací un díaque Dios estuvo enfermo,grave…

In summer the empire of insects spreads.

darkness falls upon Humanityand faces become terriblethingsthat wanted more than therewas.all our days are marked withunexpectedaffronts – somedisastrous, othersless sobut the process iswearing andcontinuous.attrition rules.most givewayleavingempty spaceswhere people shouldbe.and nowas we ready to self-destructthere is...

If my like for you was a footy crowd, you’d be deaf cos of the roar.And if my like for you were a boxer, there’d be a dead guy lying on the floor.And if my...

If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

Love leads us to write poetry because love improves our hearing; like prayer, poetry is every bit as much about listening as it is about speaking. To ‘get’ the poem is to hear the eloquence...

The beauty of words that heals my soul.

Every time I watchLady and the TrampI think”SHE’S HAVING SOME OF YOUR PASTA!””QUICK! EAT IT ALL! EAT IT ALL, NOW!!!””GROWL! BARE YOUR TEETH! DO SOMETHING!”OH, DON’T GIVE HER THE MEATBALL!THERE’S MEAT IN IT!””IDIOT!”But then againI’m...