marți, 28 aprilie 2020

It has been a while, isn't it?!

excerpts from an immigrant diary
I used to write when I was two
I used to write at sixteen too
I used to write when I was older
When all my soul became much colder
When I was sad when I was weak
When I was not allowed to speak
I used to write when I was lonely
Being inspired by pain, only
If you like Johnny Cash or Nails
You know the hurt has many scales
I used to sing also, for years
To tame my music with my tears
I used to read; I used to listen
To Wagner, shooting through me frisson
I used to be afraid of people
One day I hid into a steeple
Spreading my wings, rising in flight
In an imaginary fight
I bit down all my dreams of being
The one who is this mankind freeing
I left my hopes in heyday’s tower
I lost my appetite for power
I got some children, nice and neat
I got a husband, the whole kit
It’s all about you, they will say
My plate is full; I got a tray
I had a lot of friends, the same
They’d loved to write, who can they blame?
Leaving their lives, they now perform
The drops of rain in a big storm
I, me, myself, my life, me, me
I’ve lost, although, Identity.

marți, 13 august 2013

Un alt jurnal,
o alta viata,
o alta coala de hartie,
eu scriu si-mi foloseste mie
sa-mi amintesc cand nu sunt vie
ca am trait!
ce-ti pasa tie
ce cred, cum scriu si cand sunt mare ce ma fac?
doar ma prefac
si scriu
te-nsel pe tine
si coala alba de hartie...