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 ;)