4th feather

behind that door 

desire 

a warmth to follow 

a young love

a kiss, an amazing soft, but passionate kiss 

moon

missing you 

like the moon misses the sun 

third feather

on your chest i will always draw a door 

near that door a moon shaped window

near that window a small heart 

only you can connect the dots 

with my feather. 

a 2 a pana

am o pana 

e pana lui Vlad cel ce tinea Tara Romaneasca 

in tepe si in lupte 

e pana ce a lasat in urma testamente 

in unele seri o inmoi in trecatoare 

sentimente 

in unele seri in prosseco si in stari nemuritoare 

am o pana pe care as plimba-o pe umerii tai

cu care as scrie istorie de ieri 

am o pana pe care o misc greu 

se misca o data cu sufletul tau. 

gol

Le-am incercat pe ambele. 

ne scris

ne gandit 

Ma golesc. 

Nu inteleg cum si de ce. 

Nu inteleg cum de nu simt furie.  

As vrea sa am o furie in buzunar, pe care sa o scot si pe care sa mi-o impun. 

Si totusi eu simt cu totul altceva. 

Opus furiei. 

jasmin

my body smells of jasmin 

in the afternoon rain

the layers of my soul 

have no smell 

only texture 

hard like my arms

and soft like my tummy 

the layers of my soul are infinite

each layer with its own power and virtue

and lack of it

and each layer is longing for

a specific soul with other infinite layers that have no smell, only texture. 

my imagination

the rational arguments 

the lack of reaction

the empty space 

all points out to a fictional connection

can not miss something that was not there

on the contrary. 

(if) my imagination 

it did damage much more than it was ever allowed. 

it took something from me. 

coincidence

coincidence that the universe seems to send just to see how I react

coincidence to live with.

as i live without something I cared about. 

hardest goodbye

wrote a goodbye 

made of emotions 

the hardest goodbye I ever experienced

a goodbye felt through the layers of my skin 

a goodbye that I overdelivered 

over talked and over stated 

wrote a goodbye that i will never regret writing,

but that I still feel burning inside. 

heart dreaming

stop a heart from waiting and wanting 

get her back to my body. 

stop a heart from dreaming 

get her into a program like hearts annonymous 

stop a heart from imagining things 

get her back connected to the cords of reality 

if in the process this heart becomes weak and slow 

so be it.

first feather

on your back 

uncolored nails tickle a feather   

with many shades 

The truth

that never surrenders, knows no limits, the scary truth, the one that gets you to the sides of society, the truth that takes no blame and has no morals. 

the feather is soft and colourful, many times you feel it just like in a dream, it draws the colours of hope 

Hope 

red and light blue, sometimes golden and magenta, the colors of an experience to live only once in life, inbetween the trees of existence

the feather does not forget about desire 

Desire 

Desire to be seen, fully and utterly seen

desire to spend time, desire to caress, desire to plunge inside the bluest waters ever seen, those of your soul 

and sometimes the feather gets broken by the wind of reality 

Reality 

there is no future for truth, hope, or desire, there is only a now.

Now

The feather stopped on the tremble of your back 

Now does not seem to be enough. 

scarf

in the rain i will confess my tears

in the rain i will seize my hope

rain drop after rain drop 

my heart will wear a small scarf

to protect what needs healing

my mind is full of reasons 

to make me run in the rain.

October brackets

another october 

I realised my being 

can never be the same as in july

my soul became on brackets,

as intense and full this feeling

as it could be. 

this october, 

try to erase the brackets 

day by day. 

stars light

stars that argue before their God

am I real, or am I just sun dusk? 

stars that know my soul 

and sometimes bathe in it 

just to make it lighter 

stars that know their worth

and mine, never questioning it. 

stars that witness my duality 

my guilt and my passion

they sometimes smile

a woman made out of stars light, 

ours 

they say inbetween themselves.

my regret

goodbye I had hoped I would earn with no regrets

but was not possible 

actions can not be erased in the sand 

actions that offend, or that try to force 

no matter the reason, or the need behind 

no matter if I said sorry, no matter if I felt it 

still I regret it and most probably always will. 

esarfa

o esarfa mi se aseaza pe umeri

peste esarfa o tristete ca un kettlebell 

mult prea greu de ridicat.

o tristete pe care am evitat-o 

cu prea mult scris, 

cu un sens doar de mine inteles

o tristete pe care am tot dus-o la fundul paharului de cola cu rom 

dintr-o seara de toamna 

intr-un oras strain, 

in care te chemam inca, 

in care te asteptam inca. 

mi-ar fi placut ca peste esarfa mea sa se asterne furie, dar nu. 

e tristete si un inceput de dor. 

escaped words

so many words escaped my being 

to reach you 

shared my feelings, my truth and my reality through them

never expected reciprocity 

but never expected you not to be able to look inside my eyes ever again.

paintings in my imagination

painted a whole world from head to toe on your body

a lake where I could swim naked, was painted on your back

embraced silence and laughter as mountains and fire pit on your cheecks

light and darkness, sun and moon, on your tummy, both would have taken my small feet to protect, one from darkness, one from too much light. 

on your chest only a door I painted. 

A door to open when you miss me. 

resignation

there is a resignation of actions 

of words, especially written words

there is a resignation of emotions

that should have never been confessed 

there is a trembling heated fever 

in my body to bring at the departure gate 

no goodbye 

no dialogue, only monolog

no argument, only silence  

no emotion, not a confessed emotion

a strong pain in front of all of this resignations. 

warm stubborness

to caress the shoulders of your stubborness 

to warm its broken pieces

to lift it when it fells into sadness 

to tickle until it is able to let some parts of you free. 

dancing in the rain

dancing in the rain 

alone 

looking in your eyes from a distance 

knowing you will never dance with me 

still not able to pull my eyes away. 

dancing in the rain 

with a freedom I cherish 

that allows me to be as I am 

not good, but not bad 

beautiful when I dance 

passionate and rezilient 

dancing in the rain

if I would have fallen 

I know you would have caught me. 

vivid

I sent you a picture of my soul 

a woman soul 

full of contrasts 

of vivid emotions 

of hard and easy stains of life 

if you look close in the left part 

there is a door, behind that door there is the mark of your presence. 

playing with your smile

in my dream I played with 

the extreme corners of your mouth

when going for a smile

with your eyebrows when they get angry 

with your words just as they slide out

I played with your scent 

with the way you drink whisky 

with your hand that sometimes is shaking 

with the other one too. 

with your secrets and with your truths 

with the layers of your being, up to the moment you fell a sleep. 

with your stubberness was a pleasure to play, to quarell, to rezist her and her unrezist me. 

only for a second, in a dream. 

undesired emotion

emotion filled with an incredible warmth

let it disolve in the acid of silence

let it break into thousand pieces and shatter the earth.

fly to the highest mountain

undress its layers and stay naked there on top of the earth.

cry a name out of its core, 

cry it out as it should not be there.

can it carve it out? 

a simple name outside its emotional being, like a statement made to the gods, 

I shall not connect to this pole, this route again, this name I long to, this soul I feel. 

let it cut it out. Like a rose that is sick. 

let it make it hurt less.

or just bring upon itself acceptance of the wise, 

not passionate women or men. 

 

furla puzzle

one goodbye got lost in my furla bag

maybe the one that I was expecting the most 

usually I stack them next to my beautiful never expensive earings

I thought it appropiate for this goodbye to get lost in that particular bag

It is black and beautiful. It is simple and elegant. 

I looked for it for hours, up to the moment my bag was empty on the inside out. 

This particular goodbye was missing like a small puzzle piece to make me look for it, wait again. 

But life is not perfect. And some puzzles need to survive with a missing piece. 

graffiti de mujer

en las paredes de mi corazon 

esta escrito como un graffiti 

mujer 

que ve lo bueno

lo hermoso y la luz, ese luz incendida 

que tu alma esta cargando

y tambien ve la razon de que no puedes dejar atras la distancia. 

Tu miedo de no perder algo de ti.

rostro

mis lagrimas se pierden 

en los momentos de soledad 

mis lagrimas son sombras de tu 

perfume, de tu voz y de tu mirada

mis lagrimas se pierden en mi rostro 

para que nadie las vea 

unhealed faith

young and restless love 

still caresses the corners of my soul, 

painted in desire 

scratched by unhealed faith in your presence 

abis

patura in care emotiile danseaza pana la rasarit 

si capituleaza.

distance

the ability to let go 

strength to move on 

gratitude for the good times

forgiveness for other times

more than willpower 

closure 

and a deep internal faith in the ability to take decisions. 

distance is a matter of the soul 

a new journey is earned on how you own 

your goodbyes.

in lumina

in lumina 

o tandrete firava

cum sunt razele de soare chiar inainte de apus

o feminitate minunata si specifica

o feminitate tanara si totusi cu mii de layere mature 

o feminitate gingasa 

s-a nascut

o margareta alba 

un bujor alb foarte mic 

un trandafir rozaliu strain de restul trandafirilor 

in lumina toate s-au manifestat 

fara sa vrei si mai ales fara sa vreau. 

pui de bunica

mainile bunicii frematand in coca de cozonac 

mainile bunicii cosand povesti 

pe iile sufletelor nepoteilor mileniali

lasandu-le pe toate intr-o impletitura de paine proaspat coapta pe vatra. 

leganandu-si soldurile obosite 

se apleca din cand in cand in gradina sa smulga cate o buruiana 

pui pui pui striga uneori bunica, noi nestiind daca pe noi ne striga, sau puii de gaina.

Si asa ne asezam cu totii in jurul ei si ea scotea seminte din sort si dulciuri din buzunar. 

Paparudele lui bunica. 

mirror

there is a mirror or a shadow in silence 

i do not want to have to say it

i do not want to make it a reality 

i do not consider it is worthy of my answer 

i do not want to let go

i can not say

nothingness disguised in kindness.

generational

the sadness in my bones 

comes from

my mothers ankles 

to my grandmothers hands 

in her mothers legs

the sadness in my bones comes out in the morning

when the moon and the sun have only one moment to stair each other in the eyes. 

and the sun cries a bit as to say 

you never touched me,

but your light I feel inside. 

truth

i gave you space inside my heart 

i gave you faith and truth.

my loyalty and my words 

i gave you my time

i gave you a safe space 

i gave you confidence 

i gave you some doubts 

i gave you a small forever in my heart 

and in my writings 

in my mind and soul 

i gave you a piece of my soul, 

as you already could read it by instinct. 

question mark

I will always carry with me 

what you gave me

a question mark 

a mirror to always find the intelectual woman inside my soul

clarity and security

you gave me stairs to climb and watched me prove I can, always keeping my back

you gave me a safe space

a dream, a fantasy of sort

and without wanting or knowing 

you gave me the strength you gain only through vulnerability. 

as you are my vulnerability. 

un leon

estoy sonando de un leon

y este leon esta en mis manos 

en mis sentimientos 

en lo que estoy haciendo 

y dejo de hacer

y alomejor si esta con migo

siempre. Sin gritar. Sin decir nada. 

dor si mere verzi

o mana de mere verzi 

intr-o dup-amiaza de toamna 

copaci cunoscuti si straini

care imi leagana vantul 

dintre ceea ce sunt si ceea ce reusesc sa manifest. 

un dor linistit, un dor ce asteapta 

un dor pe care il tin ca pe un animal de casa 

il mangai din cand in cand 

e un dor pe care il iubesc 

un dor pe care din cand in cand il cert, 

un dor care ma face sa scriu si sa iti scriu

un dor pe care il dobor ca la bowling, 

cu un mar aruncat pe pista lucrurilor importante, care mi se aduna la mijlocul unui anotimp. 

 

iubire. compasiune. loialitate. dor. 

toate dor uneori. 

smashed

smashed goodbye, 

like a cottage cheese layered on a bread toast 

build on a high dosage of desolated emotion like a hard cheese that lost its purpose and taste

build on a huge amount of

silence 

that says it all if you are far enough 

Lilith

the moon is bitten 

her heart is marked by the forest that swallowed her pride

and kept returning

brighter in his presence. 

the dawn became ornament some kind of earings and raised hell on young womens souls. 

the first princess of the dark

looking for the Sun

closed her eyes exhausted. 

Light was born from her chest and pointed into the universe and a little bit into the moon. 

closed

closed the rumors of my soul

closed my instinct to always write 

closed the alley to your presence 

closed the insignificant little things that I used to care about when thinking about you

closed my eyes

not yet able to close my tears. 

flickering

my words have passed away 

they have no other meaning 

their frequence broke

my light is flickering 

my eyes are wet

my conscience is numb

a known soul

for someone to trully know your soul 

the chances are extremely small

souls are dressed in bodies and especially in minds. 

and our minds have will, interpretation and a kind of ego that has the power to hide the soul.

still when it happens, closeness is undeniable 

it appears like lighting at the end of a day 

lighting that drives me, sometimes much more than it is socially accepted.

boomerang energy

all my thoughts need to come back as a boomerang 

from now on all my energy

needs to find its way back to my heart 

I will keep it in the silence of a thousand stars. 

under the sun of a thousand kites 

inside the moon that lives in my heart. 

aurie

sa imi cresc tacerea din spatele inimii

a nu stii e aproape imposibil de dus,

mai rau decat a fi respins.

sa imi cresc tacerea si sa o las sa fie 

o tacere aurie, care nu provoaca. 

o tacere in care sa ma scufund 

si sa ma adun din tot.

chipuri ale tacerii

cand lasi tacerea sa vorbeasca 

te separi de restul

dar tacerea are mereu doua fete

o fata a respingerii si o fata a posibilitatii. 

niciuna pe care sa o poti cuprinde pana la capat.

tacerea nu se multumeste cu putin. Niciodata. 

Cere intotdeauna mai mult.

another wild heart

I pray to a God I do not know anymore 

to guide me, 

as I have proof 

I left behind all good sense 

all my rational thinking 

stared at the moon and allowed myself to fully feel and do

that which I was not allowed to. 

my hands are in a prayer 

my heart is still wild and true to her nature

my mind is trying to get peace of mind. 

but my God can not interfere 

as he gave me this heart. 

cautarea

In camera in care am pasit 

un elefant 

seamana cu elefantul de pe bratul meu drept

speranta intr-o limba straina si complicata.

Elefantul speranta nu era nici timid si nici prea ridicol

tot dadea semne ca noi suntem prea mici pentru camera aia 

tot se intindea spre fereastra

tot te gadila fara sa stie daca te gadili

elefantul avea propria viata si pe masura ce zilele treceau, lua proportii. 

orientat spre mine si cu trompa intoarsa la tine, ei bine ceva il facea sa ia proportii. 

Noi amandoi, eram constienti ca e, 

dar preferam sa nu il vedem, 

abia ne vedeam unul pe altul. 

Sa scoti un elefant de proportii dintr-o camera de hotel e aproape inimaginabil, ridicol si supremul chin.

Totusi intr-una din zile revenind singura in camera aceea am observat ca de parul meu blond s-a atasat chiar el, elefantul. 

Dupa ce m-am tuns, elefantul mi-a mancat incantat jumatate din par, jumatate a tinut-o pentru mai tarziu. 

M-am intors intr-o zi iar in camera aceea, cautandu-te, caci era o camera a cautarii,  elefantul nu mai era. 

Se instalase in masina ta, hotarat sa vina cu tine. Cand l-ai vazut, m-ai chemat sa il mutam. Cum sa plec in lume asa?

L-am mutat iar in camera cautarii. Devenise agitat ca un copil de trei ani inainte de gradinita. 

Il tineam din ce in ce mai aproape caci observasem ca nu mai poate sta. Il simteam cum ma simteam si pe mine si uneori pe tine.

Intr-o zi am decis sa nu te mai caut, pur si simplu sa te chem. 

Nu ai raspuns chemarii mele. 

Am decis sa iti scriu 

Nu ai scris inapoi 

iar eu si elefantul am fost tristi 

dar niciodata cu adevarat deznadajduiti, 

caci elefantul Speranta imi devenise consilier. 

M-ai sunat, insa dupa un timp langa telefon se simtea elefantul. 

simteam atat de multe din aproape nimic incat elefantul incepuse sa le infulece una cate una, simtirile acestea. 

Elefantul nu mai putea fi scos nici pe fereastra, nici pe usa si era aproape o minune ca de la etajul 3 nu se scutura cu tot hotelul.

Intr-o zi mi-ai zis in soapta- o tinem asa pana se inchide usa dupa tine. 

Eram trista, plina de speranta si de iubire 

foarte confuza. 

Niciodata nu ai mangaiat elefantul, l-ai evitat cat ai putut, dar cand imi vorbeai simteam emotie, cand ma priveai, cand erai in camera aia cu mine, intr-un fel sau altul erai prezent cu adevarat. 

Intr-una din zile nu am mai putut retine elefantul. 

Idu si-a dat drumul sa alunece ca intr-un roller coaster pe vasul de toaleta, s-a murdarit pana in dinti si a daramat camera cautarii. 

M-a trezit din somn si m-a pus pe spatele lui. 

Tropaind te-a gasit repede intr-un oras strain, stand separat. Privind de la departare. Dorind sa nu iti doresti si nedorind pana la urma cu siguranta nimic de la mine, cu atat mai putin de la un elefant de dimensiuni patriarhale. 

Idu a baut whisky cu tine. 

Ametit si plin de viata nu a vrut la culcare. 

Apoi s-a asigurat ca nici o camera a cautarii tale nu va mai fii deschisa de mine. 

am adormit asteptand cu ultima bruma de speranta si cu ochii plini de lacrimi de elefant.

probabil esti trist cu un layer de furie si probabil nu intelegi de unde a aparut elefantul ala? Si de ce l-am adus si de ce n-am putut sa mai astept pana se inchidea usa, sa fie totul decent si sa incuiem camera cautarii cu elefantul ala sau ce o fi fost, cu totul, acolo inauntru?

Asa cum fac oamenii rationali si maturi. 

purple silence

I opened my doors

let your silence lean on its corners

break the door knob 

and quietly closing it behind her.

It was me dressed in black and it was your purple silence. 

She looked me in the eyes and said

I can never give you what you want.

I looked away, 

my black dress was now stained by purple spots. 

I will need to wear it from now on.

ethical nomads

growth mindset 

could you love more than one person at the same time? 

some experts in dogmas tell the world no

but what do priests or ethical savvy really know in a fixed mindset? 

it is the ethical nomads that show a round world, not the corner approach. 

gard

renuntare la un sentiment 

inscriptionat pe limita superioara a buzei 

mele stangi 

pe sanul de odinioara 

pe echinoctiul adevarului mancat

de capusele din spatele casei 

Marioarei cand isi scotea caprele la pascut. 

Renuntarea la ceva din mine 

care doare si striga si se cutremura 

ca un vampir strapuns de razele soarelui

ce mi-au patruns in umarul stang 

ce mi-au cuprins tatuajul din reverie 

ce m-au trezit intr-un parfum restant al primelor zile de primavara. 

E momentul acela din an

al adevarului secular

al capitularii sentimentelor  

intr-un sistem pagan si familiar.

o pisica la limita gardului 

you shall not pass, says Zuzu 

to my rebel heart. 

 

secolul 21

paduri de pini 

asfalt invizibil de condimente fixiste si nerealiste 

paduri de conuri amare 

coifuri de lunga distanta pentru 

suflete elisabetane 

alambicate seruri 

ale adevarului profund 

sterilitatea secolului 21 

feedback politically correct 

intr-un link de teams, al staruitorului pact 

miscat de nimic 

si totusi cel mai mic vant il doboara. 

feedback de inceput de secol

mai e si maine o zi 

someone

my heart pounding inside

my chest too big 

my hands too tight 

my words burn into truth

my questions retreat into old temples 

will become someone new

while thinking about you.

words rapport

words have left me 

like its voice left Bon Jovi 

in an afternoon 

while drinking a Pepsi with his buddies 

words have quarreled with one another  have exchanged strange monologues

left on a paper 

to pick up the pieces of emotions broken in small paragraphes 

what does the mind to the heart and reverse. 

words have left me in a night

passed midnight

after writing a letter

they were found running in the middle of a highway 3 hours walk from the point of no return. 

Police wrote a rapport:

To whom it may concern, 

on the night of August 12 th, 

rebel words were caught smoking some small interjections and dancing rock and roll. 

worries

when you feel ill 

my heart sinks 

a little bit 

it burns 

a little bit 

and it prays to a God you do not know.

thoughts

To arrive safe. To have fun. To connect or to reconnect. 

some jiters about first meetings, 

knew how important they were, but I also knew how prepared you would have gone

Annoyed on myself. Annoyed for caring. 

forest lake

tears like the lake I never visited in my grandfathers forest. 

tears I hide 

tears I will never regret 

because I need them to protect my eyes 

so I can say goodbye. 

South America

South America is a rebel 

endlessly beautiful

full of life 

of dance, of rithm

of mountains to be cherished and loved 

South America is the land that will never settle 

it is passion and it is poetry 

it is a love that will end in an instance, but its story will remain and caress your soul forever. 

South America is the land that has no fear.

like a teenager

I remeber those days you somehow dissapeared. 

I remember thinking it was not normal feeling the way I felt when you returned. 

sad and happy and a bit relieved to see you at the same time 

Relieved I see you again, and gelous, like a teenager. And feeling unfit for it.

I was not entitled to feel it. But my heart has no rules. Has no social guidelines. It just is. 

If I would try to make her be some other way 

I am too big for you to hold me 

a tree's hope

it is the ray of the sun inbetween the leaves of a tree that give it hope he can make it pass winter 

it is never his routes, that hold him tight

never allowing him to jiggle, to mistreat his spine, or to crumble back into the ground 

nor his seva that keeps him straight. 

it is never his many years expertise as a tree 

not even the moment he showed his crown to the earth and sky and squirrels and birds were amazed. 

still

it is the sun in mid autoumn that gives him hope. 

As a whisper in the ear of an old tree 

you will make it this year as well my old friend and I will watch from a far. 

chefir (ne)adevarat

e un moment in zi 

nici 15, dar nici 14.00

in care te caut absenta 

cand ma intreb unde esti, cum esti 

si daca te (re)gasesti. 

e un firesc in dup-amiaza zilei de marti, 

sau de joi

in care pare ca te astept

si te-as privi firesc 

fara echivoc in orice e banal. 

si ti-as da chefir (ne)adevarat. 

sare

ma impiedic in scris 

ma rastorn fara echivoc 

in 

cuvinte aruncate si alungate

futile si scandinave 

kinestezice si kinte-line

cu inceput de sentiment 

cu final de cuvant 

cuvinte ca foile de ceapa 

ce se desprind greu si doar una cate una

din cand in cand, digerate mai bine cu sare. 

el cielo y la mujer

el cielo nero y azul 

me ha llamado anoche 

me dijo que mi matrimonio deve alomejor entrenarse con los leoneses, no con los leones. 

el cielo me llamo de todo instante y me dijo 

que mujer eres 

tan complicada, tan franca y sin franquessa.  

que mujer flaca y corta, pero gorda de emociones nunca llenas del viento que viene para mejorar y alta como el mar se altesse en la noche cuando nadie le mira. 

Una mujer de medio vida, de media altura y de tamano que el viento no la puede aguantar o alomejor alcanzar.

ultima carta

Esto es mi ultima carta para ti

una carta azul o amarillo 

que le dejo aqui, aun que alomejor no lo leas

pero

tiene un sol dibujado

y el mar que alcanza el sol y la luna en todos estantes de su existencia. 

dos versos en esa carta:

en mi corazon has dibujado tu proprio mundo 

y la llave te lo regale en ese invierno, en la primera mes con nieve. 

en mi corazon

te voy a echar de menos 

a tu voz 

a tus historias 

a tus pensamientos 

y a como me miras 

algunas dias, como que no quieres mirarme

te voy a echar de menos.

a tu mirada

a tu presencia

a como me protejes 

cuando crez que yo no lo se o que no lo siento. 

alomejor no le se, solo lo senti. 

mi alma azul

te llame con mi alma desnuda y azul 

te escribi con mi alma abierta y clara 

te guarde en mis suenos y entonces 

tu viste mi alma demasiada despierta y derecha. 

snow in august

the roads are closed 

the snow is one foot tall 

my feelings have no life guards 

they did not dissolve in the snow. 

migrants

I should not cross the border like 1000 migrants from Marachesh 

just because I have something to say

I should not let myself dream of a room with no view 

only a secret passage to a green land with hills that need to be walked, of forests that sing the yearning song, of laughter from a far and of games on a table with prosseco and wine. 

frica de frica

imi e frica de frica ce vine 

din senin, din ghetusul din fata casei

din soarele torid, pe campurile pe care stramosii le stiau fara GPS ca bataturile palmei mainii stangi. 

imi e frica de frica din genunchii copilului meu cel mai mic 

sa nu fie mai puternica decat iubirea care il inconjoara.  

totusi chiar frica ma ajuta pe mine sa il ajut pe el

ni con hielo

echo de menos 

a ese primer momento que vi tu calor 

y tu passion que esta con migo algun dias 

y la seguridad y la curiosidad que tu presencia me da

no se por que

este fuego que ni con hielo ni con agua

se para de llenar mi alma. 

first dream

time

has passed since my first dream of you 

came with no warning 

a kiss in a dream

it awaken something in me 

something I never looked for

but it added layers to my heart

layers of desire 

of care from a distance 

layers of guilt and of vulnerability

vulnerability I never wanted to build

it taught me about a deeper meaning I was already looking to understand

my heart still trembles like a dragon in the ashes of that first dream.

decoding

I have no idea what goes on in your soul. 

I just know you look for me, I feel it. 

Even when you put on masks after masks and say I called you just because x or y as to mention am nothing special, or never because you just feel like talking to me. 

Sometimes I don't know what you are trying to tell me. This hidden signals, if they are, I can not decode. My mind and heart do not work like this. 

magical stone

I was born from the mountain of desire or faith or how people call it from Athos. 

I got to be one of the many citizens of the court of Mary, but when she got expelled from the mountain she took me with her, in her right pocket. 

I got to be held by saints, by ordinary woman, by powerful man, even by woman that sold their soul, and sometimes their body. 

I got to know the world, and especially people by their colors 

and if their colors were dark, they would never be able to hold me

as I am the one of the small stones from the originary carvings. 

I choose who can hold me, for a second or more. 

I travelled the world many times, but I stopped when got to be held by a man, a contradictory man.

I saw his many colors his many words and his steady feelings. I choose to stay. 

Then for one day or 2 I chose another with the colors of the Sun. 

One that had all the potential, all the internal strength, which had amazing colors.

I got to bathe in this colors and almost forgot about my purpose. I remembered the steady one and decided to return. 

My path is long, maybe never ending. 

contrast abstract

contrast marcat de limita umbrelei unei domnisoare sconcs 

contrast de mirosuri, de culori si de Pete

se plimba domnisoara cu umbrela in coada 

la capatul umbrelei un mic inel gata de scos

sau de ascuns 

pe inelarul unei papusi intinse pe rapita din fata blocului 

asteptand sa inceapa dansul de dimineața

cei trei pasi azvarliti in albastru si cei doi in turcoaz. 

Urme de dans de papusa pe umbrella unei domnisoare sconcs

intr-o dimineața plina si suficienta. 

split in two

my heart is split in two

and I have no way out 

two parts 

the mother and the wild woman

the rules follower and the rebel 

the responsibile and the stars runner 

the dreamer and the analytic one 

never one side story of my life 

song

sent me a song once 

in a space you never left out 

and I felt it

I dont know how you do it 

how you make me feel 

more than to think,

because I usually do use my green waves

I am used to it. 

you seem to think more, so I can feel more when you are around.  

hidden truth

a time comes when hidden truth

reveals from within

a time comes when I need to choose

what I can live with, or live without. 

a time of change and heart ache. 

overdressed hands

overdressed 

my hands start to tell the world

the story of the women behind me

the unheard 

the unbalanced 

the unconditional loving woman 

the mother

the ones that took the hardship in their 

tears, 

in their guts or on their skin

the ones that carried all the bad in their bones.

not letting it touch their children. 

not letting it out 

still nothing you hide inside 

stays hidden forever

it comes back from within 

generations after. 

Autumn Dream

familiar faces spread across the globe within the tree of life's roots.

its leaves shares their laughter

when they slowly fly to the lowest level of Hades's world. 

Autumn's dream is endless

and starts on the 31st of August

The best and last day of summer. 

tree of life

in your absence, 

your presence appears tattooed on my skin like an old oak 

that has no other reason 

to be than life itself. 

letter

somedays I would like to write you a letter written in pencil, handwritten.

to sign it with an unknown name Silvia or Martha, or Agatha maybe.  

In the letter nothing of importance, except maybe the changes I see in you.

The way your neck changed, it is slimmer.

The way your voice changed a little, 

it found pace, something it was looking for

Your tired eyes. 

Your love of life and light and desire, not ever directly expressed verbally.

the way I feel like myself, more when I am close to you.

inulin

At the limit of my being 

there are emotions 

wrapped in inulin

At the limit of my being 

there are hills that my hips shake

there are clowds I ride 

and 

little flowers with huge roots

tree roots, that changed perspective 

and refrained from growing

At the limit of my being 

rain and summer light. 

simplicity

under water all things of life get clarified 

under water there is only dessert 

under water there is only light and play 

there is absence and it is playful.

Under water my life is simple. 

It is movement. 

no scent, no taste, no emotion

only movement and simplicity. 

end of June

my childhood was marked by

Keep her safe. 

my little sister. 

The one that could have fought the anger demon, and got away with it. 

The one that my grandmothers were scared off 

The one that could not stand or walk in due time 

The one that always knew something more than me

The one that was never listening 

although I was almost always right. 

The one that had my heart since she eat her own poo with her left hand, when she was 3 or 4 months old.

The one that always got me to fight as we were back on the street, fighting the bullies on the streets. 

The one that always looked up to me somehow. 

The one that knows me best. With all the good, all the ugly and all the dreams from childhood. 

trembling temple

There is a temple 

in its middle

there is a small golden stone. One that smells like peonies in the summer.

One that knows how to give away the colours of the Sun.

One with shades that are recognizable wherever she is willing to go. 

the temple trembles. 

It knows the colours and the shapes of each of its stones, black or coloured, still it never encountered this kind of stone.

A stone that brings the sun in its entrance. A stone that makes the temple want to grow 2-3 feet taller. 

A small golden stone that reflects the sun inside his walls. 

my body

I look at my body 

and I love it even more than when I was younger

My neck is kind 

my breasts are beautiful and stubborn 

my tummy has secret waves and it is never boring 

my hips are dancing and my legs are not long, but always long enough for what I need. My feet are small and gracefull and they can do wonderful things. 

My bottom is small, but rounder than before. My ears are chewy and my hands are wiser, they hold my soul in line. 

my face is not beautiful in itself, but has 1000 shades of beauty. And some freckles. Especially in the summer. 

part of my soul

I showed you a part of my soul 

the part that climbs trees

the part that travels in time 

the part that writes 

the part that dreams 

and the part that feels too much 

You know me. 

Not so many people do. Not the real me. 

stone

stoned to the corners of my being 

stoned to the earth's desires 

stoned, calcified and immersed in a single point of view. 

afraid

afraid of lack of movement 

afraid of my own body's reaction 

afraid of loosing myself 

midnight

meet me in a dream

near the mountains that protected your childhood from the distance.

find a green path under a full moon. 

wolfs and bears and other creatures 

would party in the mountains. 

 

while we would stair in eachothers eyes and silence would know

A kiss. 

voice inside

my voice inside 

is at the edge of the world

smiling

my voice inside 

is grateful for the little things I have

the smile of my kids, 

the flowers 

on my living room table,

the health of my family. 

my voice inside 

knows more than I do. 

has no regrets. 

not for anything that in the last year has 

enriched my being with a kind of emotion I was not aware I still hold. 

it is brave enough to make me  unapologetically vulnerable. 

it is that kind of voice that you hear it coming out of your being, when your child is hurting, or when you are near a panic attack, or at your first loves desire. 

The voice, the real one. 

The one that never screams, the one that always tells the truth. 

The truth inside a soul. The light that trembles, but it is never extinct. 

it is that voice that when hurting is like the growl of a she wolf on a full moon.

it is never for the weak of heart, 

as it can bring doubts and sometimes tears.

token

disappointment from a distance

disappointment is clear and not ever subtle 

if it would be spilled on the green land in front of a church it would burn the ground up to the moment when there would not be anything green around it. 

disappointment is with motive, comes by reason and is always justified, but it demands a lot from any spirit. 

It always comes with a token. 

the token of justified feeling and unjustified repercussions. 

We all need to rebuild from disappointment's dust. 

canoe in flames

your determination fading 

and being reborned 

near the roots of my body 

and light and pure joy in the canoe in flames that somedays drives my thoughts into surrender.

It is a sorrow along the way

A sorrow that needs to be 

and to become so to make room for reality.

meaning

I still carry with me

the memory of your eyes 

when you smile 

the way you talk to me

only through your eyes, sometimes

or through the tone of your voice

the way you look at me 

when you think I am not looking 

and the way you confide in me 

even with things that seem small 

but are not revealed day to day

my imagination is a jester 

the smile 

the eyes 

the words 

the tone of voice 

maybe they have no real meaning, 

only the one I give. 

And I walk away with them 

in my memory

as I can not give anymore. 

secret scar

keep a secret scar  

an emotion I can never hold back

So I will walk 

until that scar will need to close beneath. 

And it will come a time I will look at it

in some sunny days 

and I will smile to the skyes and maybe say

my heart was weak 

but I don't care 

hearts are not meant to prove 

anything to anyone. 

Walk

I will walk from now on. 

walk away as much as possible, 

walk away from heavy feelings

walk away from my thoughts

walk away from conversations I used to enjoy

walk away from your fear 

walk away from the way you already know what will happen

walk away the same as you do

you thought me how to walk away.

between want and walk

I wanted to tell you that I got a little bit drained 

inbetween the shaking, the crying, the stress and the ice. 

I wanted to tell you that this is one of my weaknesses - seeing people hurting. 

I wanted to tell you that you give me strength, when you are around. 

behind me, close to me.  

I wanted to tell you everything, but I did not. 

I walked away and walked some more. 

if stardust

If the smallest stars in the sky 

would call your name

I can bet you would

wonder for one minute 

take your time, 

open one window, and keep the other one closed.

then stop for a while 

as if you do not hear the stars

you start missing them. 

you try to stay near the windows, 

but never opening both.

And if Tinker Bell would share some magic dust you would take it, but make sure you can keep the doors open, to be able to return. 

In the end, or in the morning the stars are always gone. 

Still if the stars feel like it, in the morning they hide beneath your window, in Tinker's pockets.

Sometimes they become stardust for whoever needs it. 

if the Adriatics

If I would be the Adriatics,

I would run in your arms and spill my waves in your heart. 

I would let your sun follow my heels, 

from a distance. 

caress your toes and play in the dark with your hair, with your light, but especially with your shadows. 

I would laugh and my waves would make your smile stay for longer and in the earth your spirit would grow a baobab tree that  survives eternal questions of the soul. 

Am I here to stay? 

Where am I going? 

Will I leave a mark in the ground?

Maybe the only reason is just to be.  Sometimes in more than one way. Sometimes to be like the sea, or like the sun? No, maybe more like a baobab tree to live one day at a time. 

a tshirt

I left in the afternoon 

on a clowd wearing nothing but my t-shirt 

with the message 

Friends. 

I left in the afternoon, when my voice got week and my judgement impaired. 

vulnerability

your vulnerability 

I would never want to be 

your vulnerability is  

something to discover with care 

and with passion 

your vulnerability is as we both know 

nothing that can be exploited

at least nothing that can be portrayed

with bad intentions. 

I can still feel your vulnerability

pistrui din trecut

Pe umerii mei sunt mainile mamei mele 

pe umerii mamei sunt urme ale mainilor bunicii 

pe umerii bunicii sunt pistrui

pe care ii gasesc pe chip

cand privesc imaginea din oglinda. 

Pistrui, fiecare cu cate o insemnatate, fiecare cu cate o poveste. 

layers of selfdiscovery

I am self aware 

low maintenance  

high achiever 

modest and sometimes single minded

I am the way God intended 

or the universe, or the nothingNess

we care nothing about. 

I am an idealist 

a maker of dreams, 

of objectives to be reached 

and of stairs to reach them. 

I am in all ways a woman 

of many layers:

Beautiful somedays

kind in many ways 

smart, but not smartest

passionate 

contemplative and obsevative 

loyal, but not against my feelings 

straightforward, but still with a diplomatic iz. 

brave.

playful 

and sometimes anxious and 

hardworker

Confident 

and sometimes not.

I lack empathy when I feel lied to, 

crossed with, or I know secret interests residing inside

I am

a mother 

a sister 

a partner

and a daughter 

a friend that would always help a friend in need

a loving woman of many layers. 

out of order

most times in my mind one thought resides

what is it that gives me purpose? 

not only physically, not even only intellectually. 

what is it that I need to learn from the last period? 

not to trust so much my intuition, 

as my perceived feelings seem to be out of order.

Icar

In between looking for me 

and staying away

in between wanting to be close and

taking as much space as possible

in between curiosity, connection or something else. 

As I am.

In between what I have built, that I would never give away and a feeling I have not yet fully understood it's reason to be. 

in between middle day and sunset 

there is a light that caresses the earth for those who know the story of Icarus

crossing the streets

I saw my little sister 

in the middle of the street 

her hands were splitted in two

her brown hair filled with blood 

She opened her eyes 

in the neighbourhood hospital 

and my heart stopped for one second

She said you used to take my hand 

when crossing the street. 

Then smiled. 

Her pain was yellow and flooding the hospital corridor. It had the smell of chlorine and blood. 

It went inside my lungs, that yellow smoke. 

It brought anger as it brought dispear to her husband and a deep sadness for my mother. 

My father freezed. I've never seen him freeze. 

He was contemplating a power he had no power upon, a power of injustice, a power of destiny, of catastrophic event. 

Looking death right in the face, except it wasn't his own, it was his smallest child. The one he swore to keep safe. 

Always.  

My mother took my hand.

She kept enchanting my beautiful child, my beautiful child. I knew she was praying. 

Seeing my sister smile on the hospital bed, woked me up. I realized that in the face of death you have one shot. And she took it with dignity. 

She lived to cross again the streets, now with 2 daughters in her arms. 

My father was never the same as before. Something in him freezed that day. 

My anger gets out in therapy and speaks Greek and swares and curses without cursing. 

My mother's pain got a depozit on her bones. 

It is never temporary. But we move on. 

loyalty a different part of me

loyalty is different

does not reside in my heart  

my loyalty is very much linked to  my respect before all else.  

And when I give it, it is never temporary. 

7 return

I want to give back a 7.  

It is yours and I borrowed it in another year.  

With good intentions. 

but had no right to do it.

I can reimburse you for the last 4 months

by giving you my 2 * 7. 

when and if you need them.  

instead of space

why can't I just give space 

take space 

make space inbetween? 

why can't I just build space 

out of this strange feeling 

I have? 

Why instead of space 

I miss shared thoughts?

Why instead of distance

I long for the inflexiones of a voice, 

when you really care about 

something you talk about? 

Why I know space is good, is need it and clearly wanted,

but I miss the way you smile with your eyes 

and in space this is not visible. 

Why there is so much space in my heart 

to care so deep and different? 

rebel boundaries

I should not rebel as I do

Boundaries manifesting

as all boundaries raised they need to be respected. 

sunset look

A bit happier 

when I see you. 

As seeing a sunset 

behind the mountains. 

the moment you take with you 

further in the week

the wonder of the day 

the quiet memory of light's end.  

the one that puts a question mark in your soul. 

the one that shares a light 

behind the mountains 

on a Tuesday afternoon. 

lumi concatenate

intre stare si conversatie 

intre condei si saci de beton 

intre imaginabil si sterotip

stau concentrate lumi de hartie 

lumi ce la primul suflu al vantului

de primavara 

zboara, ca puful de papadie 

in varful altor lumi 

paraziti stagiari 

intre fisurile acelor lumi 

se strecoara si se adapa din fantana sufletelor inceputului de veac. 

intre suflet si minte 

intre pui de pisica si pisici tarcate

intre soc anafilactic si alergii de contact 

lumile chiar si acolo 

se sustrag de la orice mijloc echidistant. 

world view

You have the potential to make the world run deeper inside.

Make patience your ally and enjoy the ride

 

ace sentimentale

bunica avea o cutie de bijuterii 

dar n-am vazut-o niciodata purtand bijuterii 

rareori o cruciulita de aur saruta, dar o punea la loc, intr-un sertar inchis cu lacat. 

ii daduse mai demult mamei un ochi dedeochi albastru, pe care il purtase si ea, tanara fiind. 

in cutia de bijuterii tinea doar ace si ate. 

Atele ii tot zburau din mana bunicii, iar acele se ridau in timp de lacrimi, de neputinta, de tremurici, de durerea din ochii albastri si mari. 

in cutie, bunica isi arunca cate un gand, cate o emotie si cate o impletitura de paine dospita in casa. 

cand a murit bunica, mama a luat cutia. 

A impachetat-o si a uitat-o in pod. 

Cand m-am mutat un lucru am luat din podul mamei. 

Cutia bunicii.  

Plina de ace sentimentale. 

node of friendship

the node that trembled 

in your presence is unfolded 

lasting friendship

there was once a little girl, with big eyes, big feet and big hands. 

she was my best friend. 

not because we were the same. 

actually we were almost opposite. 

she very tall, very sporty, very inclined to do things in a certain high rithm

myself small, with small feet, inclined to take my time to observe the world 

we became friends by mistake, or by chance, or for whom believes in destiny, because it was meant to be. 

we used to have the conversations

that would guide our adulthood young lives

we used to challenge day to day mediocrity 

each of us through it's strengths. 

but we have never hidden our vulnerability 

as this is what true friends do. 

Share a little or more parts of their soul. And light the way when the other needs a light on. 

She told me once- you are the family I chose. 

If I know something for sure it is that we will always find the road less travelled, or we will shavel our way into a new road to get to see each other. 

to my Giul. 

dance of the elephant

your portrayed thoughts on the wall that cuts in half my reality. 

with no purpose. 

to no extent. 

My intuition is lost on that wall 

an elefant in a grocery store. 

Too big to fit. Too enclined to dance. 

I can't trust my elefant's dance.

I can't trust its movement momentarily into the world, or on your wall. 

Keep this wall high, as you seem to need.

To play hide. No seek. 

I will put my elephant to rest on my right arm. 

Will find a way, in the end. 

When his music will not be played, 

the dance will surrender to this silence I started feeling. 

comitment

comitment to my family 

comitment to my day to day 

comitment to ideas, which grow the

mind and spirit. 

comitment to my little universe. 

thoughts in a dream

waking up lacking the ability to shake your presence out of my dream. 

waking up haunted 

almost certain your thoughts are close by 

almost certain they have this power to penetrate the limbo inbetween reality and dream. 

your thoughts that I do not know. 

your thoughts that I most probably portray, 

I carry their image, but your real thoughts no. I do not know 

Wherever they go

and seek to be whole. 

Zmei

Crestele muntilor danseaza la rasarit

Intampinate de Zmeii lipsiti de clavicula,
lipsiti de gen si de colagen alungati sa traiasca dincolo de Carpati.
Zmei ce cauta si azi secretele impaturite printre nori ale zeilor de altadata.
Cand le gasesc o data
la 100 de ani la amiaza
se gudura si se mira, se arunca in cer si isi dau drumul in gol.
O poza de amor.

Isi pun secretele gasite intre dinti si le mesteca bine.
Si atunci la poalele muntilor cate o padure se naste.
O padure uitata de timp.
O padure nascuta din dragostea zmeilor pentru tot ce era o data atins doar de razele soarelui. 

whale

seeing the layers kept in the middle of my blue ocean

seeing the insides of this unthamed whale

my eyes gamble in the dark
they put as a wager my lips

sometimes red and many times rose
my brown eyes throw the dices
near my right soul. 1-1
my lips are sealed by a dream kiss.
my left hand sided soul raises the stakes
my eyes fight to keep their light open
they gamble again, but rules are rules
they need to raise the stakes.
Dices fell near my neck.
There is a leftover red spot that my mother will catch with her eagle eye in the morning.
4-6
again. My lips near your right ear as they tremble for a moment, a secret from the past comes your way. I touch your ear lobe and I hear metalic gates opening deep inside your body.

The bruises dissappear with every encounter. 

The whale flyes to her bed in the morning. Her mother will also check on her. 

near the sun

walking towards the sunset 

my eyes become empty in the sunlight 

walking more than my small feet can handle

embracing the sun's first layer 

walking towards the little joys 

of time well spent 

near a castle, near a river, near a tour, 

near a mountain, 

or near the sun. 

vulnerable voice

I keep thinking about how I reacted. How much I exposed myself 

how vulnerable I have been and still am.

I keep thinking I over felt 

over experienced and over crowded feelings that were never to be expressed. 

I keep thinking how it got me 

inconsistency, guilt

it got me absence, silence and awkward moments. 

I keep thinking I should not be as honest as I am many times with people I care about.

I keep thinking my voice should be, but not up to the moment where it struggles. 

If it struggles it means 

it should stop talking. 

Between Coventry and Birmingham

I remember one moment 

years ago 

I got into a bus 

and my heart stopped at the first station 

it got out inbetween Coventry and Birmingham. 

It took her a long time to find me after this. 

She found me working out in a gym in Leeds, running on a treadmill and just when I was looking out the window I saw her. 

She said: finally you are able to take me back. 

half awake. 

It was an inevitable end. 

End of love. 

End of the knife. 

End of my innocent being. 

gods

gods from my past 

gods I burried and still they came back 

gods who feed on guilt and on anger 

gods I used to unname, untouch and drive pass them in the highway of my thoughts

gods who know about the lowest moments of my life. 

gods with whom I need to make peace 

reversul paralimbajului

sau poate in paralimbaj ce am simtit exista si nu se poate regasi in sine niciodata in limbaj. 

Si ma bucura si ma intristeaza. 

Caci nu exista. Caci orice e neasumat exista si nu exista de fapt. 

paralimbaj

paralimbaj 

intr-un limbaj 

efemer si punctual

intrinsec si nonverbal 

extins si totusi restrans 

intr-o sala de dans 

figura de final 

al unui ceas banal 

intr-o conversatie cu sens 

intr-o situatie confuza 

nestiind nici ce, nici cum 

doar simtind mult din tot 

si putin din nimic. 

pare ca imi spui ca in paralimbaj 

gasesti mai mult decat in cuvinte aruncate in plic

niciodata certitudine in paralimbaj

vorbim totusi de perceptie,

al intelectului pavaj

sau paralimbaj.

 

unfolded in the sun

in the sun 

my face is red 

in the sun my lips are melting 

in the sun my universe gets to unfold 

in the sun, in my mothers backyard 

I get to drink red wine, read easy books and 

think about what I am trying to seal.  

This feeling 

has the right to be unfolded in the sun. 

one more step

You do drive purpose. Just I think you need to feel the impact of your own presence.

One more step out of comfort zone that you are ready to make for a while now

Will become and overcome some of the rocks you carry with you. 

doors of my heart

I have almost closed the doors of my heart. 

it hurts, but it needs to be done. 

35.5

I took with me the memory of your smile

I keep it in my pocket

sometimes I touch it, 

just to be sure it is still there.  

It dingles and it tickles. 

I take with me your tone of voice 

especially the one you use when we are alone.

I keep it near my feet, to hide it. 

And then it gets to be a 35.5.

light

in my light there is always shadow 

in my light there is always the reverse of lighting

in my light there is always a route of love

and of faith. 

in my light, my kids were born and they are raised. 

but they may carry my invisible shadow as well, until I am able to bring light across from past to present. 

 

a matter of will

when it is a matter of will.

nothing else but will 

will always finds ways to make it happen.

when it is a matter of desire

of connection or of disconnection

it is a long way 

to really do or undo what the heart sets.  

unreachable words

I need to write 

but words seem to loose gravity

written words seem to hit the floor

As these words look for you

but never reach you. 

open doors

you leave the doors open

so nothing to be misunderstood

reluctantly arrive 

in a doorstep 

you see my smaller eye that took something from my hands, or from the train I travelled in. 

you talk and I listen

no misunderstanding from my part. 

hugs for a mother

for a mother there is one moment in the day, 

early morning when her kids are just waking up

and they give this hug that makes all the other hugs in the world feel small. 

This hug that has the power to change the world. 2 little hands in an embrace of a mother's soul. 

one of the most amazing things in the world

blue light

Early morning the lady of the castle called her mistresses. 

In the first 3 months of the year I could not leave this space. My heart was waiting. 

Today I raise the clowds above 

I whisper to the wind and the clowds turn on eachother 

Swirling and fighting, pieces of their effort gets dissipated into the dark 

Heavy rain starts in the middle of their encounter 

The lady danced in the garden in her white silk dress with her hair raised above her soft shoulders, on which she guarded the sun and the waves of her heart. 

She danced a wild dance. Her feet cried. Her smile froze. 

The sky opened. The castle was flooded within a blue light. 

Her eyes looked for his presence. Her hands drew his smile in the dissipated pieces of the dark. 

She took that smile and touched her waves. Her shoulders shivered, her body trembled and her knees were upon the ceiling as the wind shattered all that was to be shattered. 

Still at the end she kept his blue and his smile.  

complicated woman

In my quiet moments 

I get to reflect

and every time I decide to be easy going

not complicated 

just simple straight forward nothing else then what it is in plain sight. 

But no. 

I am full of layers and layers of desires, of round passion, of courage and of responsibilities and some hurt. 

In my mind stories are born every day 

On my lips words of kindness and growth

In my heart is not easy to enter and not easy to escape. 

shared time and space

when I write to you I feel guilty 

although there is nothing I write about to feel guilty. 

I feel guilty because no matter where I am I would give you parts of my time and a little bit of my space. 

a moment in time

a tender kiss 

a kiss that needs no introduction 

a kiss that would ignite my being 

a kiss I waited for, a while ago 

a kiss I abandoned 

a kiss that I dreamt about 

a kiss I buried on a bench in a park

soft at first, exploring 

then growing the pace as if it would hook our spirits into a dark matter explosion.

uncommitted and full of desire

just a moment or two of tenderness. 

a kiss to remember

unreliable feelings

I feel your thoughts 

mid day and every other early morning

it may seem crazy and strange. 

my imagination 

is running wild into the sun 

running against the undeniable facts

forecast and light

the forecast for year to go 

is harder to explore

not as simple as year to date

usually it is linked with my heart beating a little faster when hearing your voice 

other peaks on every 7th of the month 

as 7 now is a number that got inside my walls.

it is linked with wonders and questions 

and damaged impressions

the forecast for year to go is unimaginable 

although

my soul still donates to the sun 

a trembling powerful light of different colors 

no expectations whatsoever for year to go

only a trembling beautiful unapologetic light that I can not control yet

as much as I have tried. 

yellow flowers

my space is full of yellow flowers 

of red roses and spices

of little hands and huge hearts 

of boys just learning to be boys 

my space is full of little paws 

of pink hair and nude nails 

of white memory stones and books and paintings

and bags bought to be kept in feelings of youth inside its layers. 

if

If I am too tired to fall asleep, 

If I would have called you again in the evening, just to hear your thoughts. 

If I know I already may miss you for the days that passed and the days to come.

dots and fireflies

lack of alignment to my rationale 

lack of allignment to already 

connected dots.

dots that lead nowhere. 

dots that follow no path.

dots that have a way of building a bridge in between. 

but dots that are best seen in the dark.

surrounded by fireflies. 

the snow that passed

leave it

in the snow 

leave it where it hurts the most

at the 7th minute 

that never fully passed 

but never really was meant 

to be lived. 

rebel socks

wet socks into the night 

my infinite eyebrows raised into the sun 

I get to clean the horizon 

I get to make my way into the light 

filled with sins by action or by thoughts

filled of sins without repent as they represent my soul 

my loving full of laughter and light

soul 

as part of my soul. 

rebel and unrepentant. 

gelosy

gelosy that should never be 

gelosy that makes the soul weak 

gelosy that enables low vibration

of the mind.  

gelosy that sometimes touches my nails 

and very much annoys me. 

your thoughts

Away. 

I wonder if your thoughts come to meet mine. 

I think not.

I wonder if there is a mathematical argument you would not win. 

I think not. 

a story

in the little canoe that drives my thoughts 

where sups and infinite cords around my heart are issued into the sunset 

there 

it lies a small box

inside the box 

A letter of scholars and thieves 

about a snail that never bothered

that knew life by the drops of rain 

in the afternoon 

it is the story of the snail that sometimes 

people forget in their so called importance. 

facts of life

I take a sip of truth and I give it to the sea 

I caress your smile from the distance. My little stars in my ears are whispering facts of life. 

Small facts of life, that I enjoy. That I get to remember years after, drinking tea, in a tea shop, surrounded by books and colors. 

I have painted my life as I wished to. 

small lines

my small lines close to my eyes show the deepness of my journey 

my small lines inhabit my face, as they would forever need to.  

my small lines have become together with my soul. Not wanting to alter, but just to become. 

Becoming in womanhood, in motherhood, in any hood that life brings forward. 

rainbow

in this world I am linked to the earth 

as I carry stones in my pockets from early 

childhood. 

the rain is witness to my sorrow as it is to my happy days. 

coming closer to the rainbow in my life. 

wild heart

 whatever I do is not enough

my house is clean, 

but not enough

my life is full 

but I feel things are missing 

My kids are happy and healthy

and this is most important 

I am cherished

I know it. 

Still my heart is wild. 

presence

although I fight against it 

my thoughts follow a pattern 

I  can't yet reverse

I try to be present in every moment

but sometimes my thoughts fly 

and I dont know how to take them back 

I dont know why they follow you in another part of the country

close to where real poetry was born 

they follow you as they don't listen to reason

I don't know why your presence is so next to my heart yet. 

Maria Magdalena

If I were to choose to be one character in the bible I would always choose one - Mary Magdalen. 

As my grandmothers name.

As I think a woman is somehow thorned in-between her 7 demons. Or sometimes 10, or even 100, depending on the time of month, life age or just genetic impersonation of melancholic whit. 

As she decided to follow a man, as most woman in that time of age did, as many woman in this time and age still decide. As she decided for her life to be in his light. For her shadows to be erased by his presence.

But nobody remembers that shadows reappear only in darkness, marked by light.

Amarillo

unslept curves of symbols and feelings 

fully covered lines, white and black 

the only colors that do not answer to any God. 

There is a color that would glance in the distance, would laugh at my curves, 

would punish the God of pastel and would make indiscreet feel normal. 

Amarillo 

that I still miss to read and write in those curves of friendship.  

te simt

Te simt de la distanta. 

chiar si cand intri intr-o camera si sunt cu spatele, 

intr-o conversatie 

Simt cand si daca ai vrea sa imi vorbesti, fara sa te privesc, 

Chiar si cand pana la urma te opresti 

si nu o faci. 

pur si simplu, fara sa imi explic cum si de ce

Te simt. 

Si in tacere si in cuvant si intr-un fel de stangacie pe care o ascunzi instant in conversatii cu tertii in care 

te simti confortabil, 

cum e si normal 

pentru ca de cele mai multe ori 

le ghidezi. 

te simt chiar si cand nu sunt aproape 

si ma surprinde de fiecare data. 

my hands know the world

my determined hands

they know the world better than my eyes or lips 

they sense the snow, fire and ice in an embrace 

my hands give a real hug 

my hands lean into a dance, 

open like tulips in the spring and close the doors that were too long opened. 

Doors scratched with thornes of love and passion and emotion. 

My hands understand better the world. 

Let my hands dance a tulip dance and play the piano in a living room of dreams 

they will know what to do with those doors. 

another language

first time I felt emotion

it was at a long table in another city of the world. 

in my view a tired man, long, white faced. But a passionate one. 

And I found myself wanting to take care of him. 

Wanting to keep him in my arms. To say thank you. I know he made an effort. Maybe for me. Will never know. 

still

when you say sorry 

the earth is keeping still behind me

for some seconds

when you say sorry 

I believe you.

I know you mean it. 

7 gestures

I remember few days after those 

7 minutes. 

Just waiting. 

I remember weeks after those 7 minutes. 

Sometimes texting in conversation with emoticons.

A little bit ashamed. A little bit weak. A little bit too blonde and too vulnerable. 

A little bit too much, but my heart did not know how to release. 

I remember I wanted to take back those 7 minutes. 

I remember I did not like myself for wanting to take back something I felt. 

I remember I did not understand. 

So much distance in between what I felt and what was to be felt - absence. 

Absence I got used to at one point. 

And then Absence dissappeared. 

And things got almost normal. 

but normal I don't do it seems. 

I would love to do normal, 

but it seems I just don't do. 

I do gestures. 

and I do what I feel. 

in the last week of the year

a gesture came from my heart. 

a misplaced gesture

not suited and unwanted

gesture with no goal. 

the way I am

I am one way and in an only way

I am brave and vulnerable 

I am enthusiastic and energetic 

but sometimes I open up to you and others few 

and I am tired and less of how I used to be. 

your eyes

looking in your eyes 

and trying to look aside

looking in your eyes and finally being able to look away. 

looking in your eyes and seeing something

I want to embrace with all my heart. 

looking in your eyes 

walk away 

as it should be. 

truth

it is in a corner of a table 

that your truth your whole truth 

is set 

near my truth, my whole truth 

I feel it normal. I fully trust you. 

whispers

maybe it is my imagination 

or my intuition that is far fetched 

but I feel you waiting. 

not so sure of what.

just some thoughts 

some things you decipher in my presence

or just of my presence. 

most probably it is nothing at all 

it is again nothingNess of my whisper

whisper to share

 

no purpose

why do I still feel the need to write my emotions down?

or just to say hi 

or only to say I just left some place early or late.

It has no purpose.

Will learn to stop. 

 

shadows

inside a woman 

a man resides 

her ideal masculine self 

it is towards him 

letters were written 

from 12 to 15th of age

it is towards this man, usually strong and beautiful, smart and kind 

her dreams have opened up like flowers in spring 

and she carries this image with her 

sometimes all her years 

sometimes if she is lucky 

up to the moment when

she feels reality will never be a dream 

and should never be one. 

reality is messy as a real man and woman are, 

but she has the force inside to still smile at that dream, of that little girl. 

independent woman

the cost of being an independent woman

you loose the dependant 

you loose the woman who needs to depend 

you loose the masculine outside your soul 

and you tend to build a masculine inside your body, somewhere to the left of what is your heart. 

the cost is too high 

but the risks of not being independent

history shows is too deep 

for a women that can get in need

for independency. 

dragon pe un umar gol

dragoni zboara din calcule matematice 

dragoni scot flacari si se arunca peste artificii complicate

un singur dragon isi gaseste linistea pe umarul meu gol, alb si plin 

se agata cu ghearele de breteaua sutienului aramiu cu flori de camp si se aduna acolo cu toata fiinta lui

acolo la umbra claviculei usor proeminente 

unde are un ceas sa doarma, sa se gaseasca, sa se adune in el focul nesfarsit

atata timp cat umarul meu gol il primeste

ca si cum l-ar fi asteptat 

demult.

Ash near your cheeks

It is near your right lobe 

or near your cheeks that my thoughts rub 

sometimes they collide with your skin 

but it is ash, as thoughts not encountered turn to.

As they have no other chance. 

Iasi

Seeing Iasi through your eyes 

seeing it again in a festival of colors

Seeing Iasi through your eyes would be a journey I would partake.

your soul on the table

when you look at me,

as you did today 

my determination,

my distance fade

when you look at me 

with your soul on the table 

or maybe again it is just

how I feel it,

that something that resides somewhere in between the lines

comes closer 

to my reality, 

to my body and to my soul. 

your beautiful mind

sometimes I just see your mind 

and it is beautiful. It is one of the smartest minds I have ever encountered. 

sometimes I feel your heart 

and it is huge and it is somehow naive 

sometimes I wonder how others see you 

and why your first instinct is to sit in a different table then your own. 

sometimes I wonder what is it you are looking  for. 

12 men

There was once in the most known story in the world 12 men and many woman, who looked after a vulnerable young man. 

A man of truth and maybe of madness. A man who called himself the Son of God. Not the God of lighting, or the Son of darkness, but the Son of the one and only God, the God that the Hebrews portrayed, the God that only the ones that will be called Christians saw. 

Between the 12th there was a sinner, there was a traitor and there was one that thought he had the faith of the kings of Jerusalem, but he was still full of fear, a person with doubts and failures. He sang the song of treason before the third rooster sang his morning song. 

His name was Petru. The one Pavel looked after. 

waited

I waited for you 

for your presence 

for your smile 

for your voice and for your stories 

I could not connect to anyone else 

In any way. 

Then suddenly a glimpse of reality

nothingness has disappeared into the veil of the afternoon in

waiting.  

The moon reminds me to come out and play. 

Waiting needs to be done with 

It is for another type of woman. 

friends

finally I get to not look for you 

in every corner of my body or of the building inside my skull. 

finally I get to enjoy your presence 

as you mean it. 

smile

seeing you smile 

still makes my heart run faster 

seeing your smile 

makes me feel

makes me want to stay with you for hours 

break from reality

a break from all the corners I used to leave my reality 

my reality where I am very much respected

even spoiled with gifts and with attention 

my reality with my people that for a while in my thoughts I deserted 

and it was a good time to spend abroad 

a good time to find again myself 

my longing 

my predictable reactions 

my unpredictable emotions 

my choices

and the person I cared for 

because something inside drove me.

And I don't regret it as I leave it behind me. 

jungle story

I left this time and space

went away to a jungle in my head

of wondering stories and elephants and tigers that run in my head like they are running a half marathon. 

never followed me 

as it should be 

and I appreciate it 

and I admired you for it 

and it took me too long to start coming out of the story in my head. 

ankle's truth

in my hair flowers of determination are felt 

on my body little points of torsion are imuable and intended 

my ears keep inside little butterflies that give it a go once in a while

my heart is sunbathing in the moons light 

and my ankles have known the truth for a long time now. 

the comitment of my body to entering a new cycle of life 

my hopes for you

my hopes for you are to be happy and rested

for all your loved ones to be healthy and safe

 

my hopes for you are to dig deep inside your spirit to find all that you ask for, from yourself. 

my hopes for you are to feel cherished. 

double measure

things done with double measure 

give me a specific reaction 

a grieving and unjust feeling  

things done without balance

without keeping in mind the same rules

make me a rebel, make me want to through down the judgement and the decision makers. 

mind and heart

my lips are week and kind 

my knees are songs of mermaids 

my hair is too blonde to count

my eyes always tell the truth 

my breast are strong and rebels

my hands are my grandmothers hands

my chin is judgemental and intended.

my shoulders are soft and green 

my mind and my heart are many times in contradiction. 

rain drops

there is a tree in the middle 

of my living room

in which rain drops and tapioca bubbles fly 

i feed this tree with milk and honey

for it is the tree that stays tall

that listens 

never repeats it self and never dies.

rain drops and colored tapioca bubbles are covering the ceiling and my floor is wet. 

transition

can not see the glass ceiling anymore 

transition to reality 

as I seem to need it. 

echoes

echoes of tenderness 

echoes of shared connection 

echoes of something 

imagined

impossible and unreal

but very much desired 

echoes that are lost 

slices of life 

surrender

the closeness I used to feel 

disappears slowly 

into the light of a thousand suns 

that brings my moon into surrender. 

surrender my heart 

to reality and to your implacable will 

surrender to the wind. For the wind will know where to take any feelings left. 

surrender in the light of the moon, 

the only one that shadows my heart. 

first time in my life

first time in my life I see through skin 

first time in my life I wonder about where I am

first time in my life I question my reasoning

I question my feelings 

I question my emotional distance 

I question my truth and my principles 

first time in my life I am in the middle of the sea 

not looking at it from the distance 

but exactly in the middle 

of family life, my duties, motherhood and work 

and what is underneath. 

The uncertainty. 

ipocrizie

avem toti o doza

de ipocrizie. 

care incepe uneori sa usture, ca o zgarietura prea adanca, ce atinge osul. 

a mea se infiripa intre gand si valori 

intre doua parti 

ale sufletului meu. 

pieces to care for

I would care for you 

as my instinct tells me to

my mind tells me to ignore it.  

I would keep you in my arms, although not so sure you would fully fit,

with your head on my arm

and would caress your face and hair 

and would smile at your smile, 

by instinct. 

And sometimes I would give you kefir 

the one I don't approve of

and other times biscuits and wine. 

And maybe sometimes pieces of my heart would stay with you.

tired

when life becomes a little bit too much of of what happens in between. 

tired of all that I need to push to happen

tired. 

pink dress

My first memory is of a pink dress, on my mothers closet. My mother's upset. My little sister in her arms. My mother throws the dress. My grandmother catches it. My mother's mother with her blue eyes and black hair. 

The most beautiful woman in the world, according to my mother. 

If you ask me, my mother will always be the most beautiful woman in the world, with her high neck, her smile, her brown green eyes, with her beautiful long hands. 

My mother's line of beauty runs deep in all mothers in my family, for their daughters and sons. And all of them, one day or another threw away a pink dress. 

Not all pink dresses suit woman in my family. 

rebel smile

days when I almost don't see you

days that theoretically are so busy

days that stay unfinished 

in a single way, 

a single thought that I try to catch in the needle I have in my hair

but it escapes, it builds through the gates of my soul, 

it sunks in the water of my conscience, 

underneath all that I say I want and need. 

it just is. 

A rebel thought that unleashes fire and ice inside my body. 

A rebel thought that arrives back in my mind with a memory of your smile. 

And I cross my arms and I try to think of all I do not like about you. But your smile brought back by a rebel thought somehow makes all of those other thoughts fade. 

Why I like your smile so much? 

because it is the only one that you can not control, that shows a little bit of what is underneath. 

eye corner

I see you with the corner of my eye 

at a table surrounded by your people

but tired, with your eyes red. 

I see you in another city, in Cluj, or in Alba, or maybe in Iasi surrounded by people you like. Making your presence known.

I used to see you more and to like seeing you more in my mind. 

through writings

through writings I give space to something  that will never be the same

through writings I express a little bit of how I see you 

through writings I heal

saudade

finally the earth is moving still 

finally the snow has covered my heart 

and I build a snow angel inside 

my decisions are crowded by others decisions

finally the frontier of my existence is guarded near a lake

the lake I always used to go for a swim in the middle of summer. 

Finally I hope to get better, 

to overcome all that is built in the snow.

Although I know I will miss you deeply. 

thoughts

I find myself worrying about a specific state of mind you might be in.  

I find myself thinking about context 

and changed context. 

I find myself thinking about you in the most uncommon places and times. 

And the fact that your thoughts are not ever coming to meet mine makes me want to take my thoughts back. Unfortunately it does not work like this. It is not a pure act of will. Not only.