White bird

This is something I wrote some time ago, in 2006, and I guess it sounds pretty good for something written in 2006 ;)...What is it all about? There are situations in life when a memory, or something deep inside you, or a dream that you've been having (meaning ,,day-dream" in this context ) just won't leave you.Why? Because they're part of you, because it's something deeper and older than yourself :)





This is what I was trying to say, when I wrote this poem about a white bird:

White bird

White bird flies around me in circles
Oh, poor white bird
And it spreads the wings near my window
Oh, my dear bird

Every time I look at the white gold
I feel it's running after me
And it's old

Every time I see the white bird
I know who i am:

I'm a devil looking at your feathers
Do you know how to save me?
I'm a white fool looking down at the abyss
Will you know how to love me?

Lyrics :)))

These lyrics from Limp Bizkit song Man behind blue eyes have always impressed me, can't tell why :)

They even remind me of someone I know :)




No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
And no one knows
What it's like to be hated
To be fated to telling only lies


But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free


No one knows what its like
To feel these feelings
Like i do, and i blame you!
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

Discover
No one knows what its like
To be mistreated, to be defeated
Behind blue eyes
No one knows how to say
That they're sorry and don't worryI'm not telling lies

No one knows what its like
To be the bad man, to be the sad man

new poem

I wrote this some time ago, but didn't give it a ,,final shape". Recently I've found some inspiration, and here it is:

I see a man
Alone
In his boat,
On an agitated sea…

Will the depth of the sea
Bite his heart?
Will the waves take him somewhere?

Is he alone,
Or a friend of Silence?

Does he know
That the land
Will be there forever?
Does he know
That the songs of the sea
Lead you nowhere?

Precious

Precious and fragile things
Need special handling
My God what have we done to You?


We always try to share
The tenderest of care
Now look what we have put You through...

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give

Angels with silver wings
Shouldn't know suffering
I wish I could take the pain for you
If God has a master plan
That only He understands
I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give

I pray you learn to trust
Have faith in both of us
And keep room in your hearts for two

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give


Depeche Mode - Precious

This is one of my little abstract ,,comics" :)

Sometimes

Sometimes, when you're next to a certain person, you feel wonderful - you feel just like there's no weight on your heart, you feel like smiling all the time and have this impression: that the entire world is an enormous room, that was dark and sad and with no colour until that person appeared :)

Writing

This is something I wrote months ago...maybe one year?

Do you think
That you ever
Could take away the sunbeams
From their source?
Take away the bees
From honey,
The notes from the piano
And the leaves from the trees?

Only autumn takes
The leaves from the trees
Wind carries away
Notes of the crying piano
Bees go away, but always return
And the sun wants to give us
The light that will keep us alive.

Sometimes, I write things (like this poem above) without really knowing what I mean by them...just like letting myself carried away by the sound of words....But the result can be interesting, maybe you people should try :)

4 months

Last week I saw the romanian movie that won the Palme d'Or at Cannes; I wanted so much to see it , so I found some time for it; I was a little surprised when I found out that a film from my country had won that prise....but that was a ,,positive" surprise anyway.

There was a fragment from it that impressed me the most and which, I think, contains and explains the meaning better than anything else...The main character (Otilia) running on a dark street, more and more scared, more and more desperate; it seemed like the darkness in that street was the symbol of the darkness of some people's mentality; yes, this is how I see it: the darkness of the mind and of the soul....things that can't change in the blink of an eye. Things that don't even depend on a certain political context or situation, but only on the degree of ,,humanity" in some people...

Today

I've just realized something today: it's very important how you see yourself

The thought came to my mind when I saw this picture, sent to me by an old friend :)

(see picture :) )

Paris little poem

This one is about the atmosphere in Paris...which isn't quite easy to describe :)...well, sometimes one could say words are like fashion style: ,,less is more", like they say...

Here it goes:

Rain falls, in artificial drops

Little windows

To a yellow source

Of light.

People pass, under the tower

Near the big river

And on the streets.

In the evening,

It's dark already

Great combination

Of the deep blue sky

And the yellow lights.

I wonder

What would they say,

If they had voices?

The yellow tower and the old statues

Of the bridge.

And the bell-shaped idol

Quiet

In his box of glass?

He's old, but looks familiar...

The last lines are about a statue I saw in Louvre, a human figure with a bell shape....can't explain why, but it looked almost funny to me :) ;)

Soul birds

Some days ago I just gave a google search for ,,soul bird" and I found extremely interesting drawings made by someone called Sri Chinmoy...whoever he is, and whatever he writes, does or believes in, I was happy to look at his bird drawings.....child drawings made with wisdom - who would need more?

Sri Chinmoy’s soul-bird drawings have been exhibited in major galleries around the world. Each soul-bird takes flight in the spiritual heart, soaring within an inner silence, and when seen in their thousands leaves the viewer with the feeling of quiet peace, satisfaction, harmony and an inner thrill.

To see a piece of art

Is a pleasant experience.

To feel a piece of art

Is a permanent realisation.

~Sri Chinmoy

The Sorting Hat

Soon after its release in bookstores everywhere in the world, I bought my own copy of the last Harry Potter volume, in English (wow!...) - it just sounds better in the original form and it helps me improve my English.

Some questions came along with reading the book: is it really a book for children? No, I don't think so...not necessarily :)

Is it about wizardry? Well in my opinion everyhting is just a background for what it's really important: that countinuous conflict between good and evil that exists in each one of us...this is how I see it...it's not just Harry, it could have been anyone in his place: me , you, anyone. It's about everyday life, dressed in a metaphor, a charming one ;) We all have fears, dark spots in our life, shadows, and we all need and receive the tears of a Phoenix bird :)....if we're lucky enough ;)

And well....could everything, or anyone be totally white....or totally black ? totally good or totally evil? of course not; some characters are on the thin line between those two, and finally, that inner conflict, and one's choice are the only things that matter :)

,,The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account"

Illusion


In the room where only dreams can get

Just try to hold an illusion

In your arms.

You will hear

Your favourite song,

That hides behind the corner.

Try to catch it, but don't make any sound.

Look around

See that your heart wasn't wrong

There's always a sunbeam,

Don't open your eyes, don't wake up.

Your steps might take the illusion away.

Coincidences

Today I saw something interesting...at least for me :) :D

I was at work and I saw, through a window, a bird's shape, a bird's silhouette. It was like in those ,,shadow figures" that some people know how to make: they use their hands and shadow effects, in order to create different images on a blank wall...suddenly I felt like a child again, fascinated by that image - I don't know why, probably because the glass wasn't totally transparent, but one couldn't see any details , just the grey perfect shape of the little bird :)

Maybe it seems unsignificant, but...just because of this reason I started to think about coincidences. Are there coincidences, really? Or maybe every little event is included in our destiny like in a very complex plan? Me, there, in that moment; the little bird, there, in the same moment. :) And it wasn't only the bird, there are also the people we meet every day: some of them help us, some of them hurt us, some of them aren't completely honest with us, some of them make us smile :)

After all, this version is ,,valid" too: there is a plan, but it can change in many ways. In any case, there are no coincidences :)

Freedom...

Lately I've been thinking about how many meanings this word has....actually it has a particular meaning for each one of us...there are so many ways to get a feeling of freedom: one can travel. Travel with imagination, travel with feelings, travel with your dreams...sometimes it's not necessary to leave home. Sometimes, you just explore what's inside you, the world inside you...That reminds me of something I heard in a clip on Discovery channel: not all explorers leave home....:)

That's a poem about dreams, about hope, obviously about freedom..and about that light that we all have inside us



You have to fly your way, bird.

Your body has been left alone.

Follow the quiet song, bird

Your heart belongs to the wolves

The way has thorns,

The roses are old

You can only see their faces

Following you

Don't be afraid, they're ghosts

It's just a dream

Roses are ghosts for them too.

Try to pick what's left for you, bird

You're a ghost to them

So you have everything:

You have the shape where the light wants to be

You have the water that people drink in their dreams

They can't even see you

While you fly on your way in the sky.

Ginger cat

I wrote this one right before last Christmas; I had the idea when I was taking a walk to a Mall that is pretty close to my home; on the road that takes you to that Mall, there are buildings and apartment blocks, but there are also high trees, that you can consider to be your companions on the way, or at least you can admire them while you pass them by...And they are beautiful even in winter :))) The trees are arranged in a row on the street's border (this is the neighbourhood where I'd spent my childhood in fact), and behind them there is a space - a space between the trees and the buiding, a space with bushes, plants, and cats. Once I saw a beautiful tomcat playing there (with a leaf I think) and I had the idea of this poem - it was probably inside me, just waiting to go out :)



Ginger cat

Ginger cat, why don't you come home?
To the house where it's warm
I can shelter you from the storm
And give you soft pillow to sleep on

Snow falls, ginger cat, white on green,
Silver stars on green velvet skin,
Time flies passing by the pine tree
And the fire burns in the chimney

A red sock is waiting at the window
None of us should be there alone
There is gingerbread in the Christmas tree
Ginger cat, why don't you come home?

Oh well...right now it's very hot here, but I'm a sort of winter nostalgic :D

This is inspired from an internet friend's writings - sometimes, you don't share other people's opinions on life, but there is something about them that inspires you, makes you go further, gives you a clue about what you should do or think, about how you should follow your own way, in the two worlds: the one that's inside you and the one outside...

I always have problems about naming my poems :)

I called this one ,,Searching"


Searching


If you look at a flower

What do you see?

Petals from outside

- Imagine you're a bee-

Petals of dreams, and happiness, and songs.

...Go further

Towards the middle

Another row

Of petals

Appears:

They're sadness, fear and despair

Behind them, it's happiness again

-And then despair-

And in the middle?

The place where bees take the honey from?

That's the ground of love and truth.

Hello everyone :)I'm starting this blog because I want to share my little poems with you and I'd be happy to know if they awaken a feeling, or bring back an undefinite memory in your heart :) That would be enough for me.This one is pretty recent:

I'm looking at the world outside

Through a dusty piece of glass.

My broken window is here

Just take a look

Take a look through me

And

Tell me

Am I your way to see

Am I your magic lense

The story teller of your dreams

I wish I was.

Is it about loneliness? Is it about a broken heart, or about something else? i don't know, you tell me ;)