Wednesday, December 26, 2007

why do I

love old songs
as old as I am
and perhaps
even older

love old trees
with roots
as deep
as the deepest thoughts

love to hear
children's voices
climbing shoots
finding light

love to have
and to hear
water flowing
in the cleanest river

like to see
waves of salty
shell loaded water
leaping on the shores

why do I
list all that?
it has always been
in my hearts

why do you
listen to me?
perhaps you see
you're just like me.

Friday, December 21, 2007

de Andre

His voice used
to be marching his thoughts
into their becoming words
with the force
and gentle encouragement
of an intricate medieval
orchestra sound

his voice
could not ever hurt nobody
his voice
woke up thoughts
into mostly anybody
his stories
still live
in his songs

hard to believe
that he himself is gone
into another story
another time
so sad he could not be trapped
in the present
forever

he must have already
written new music
perhaps
with intricate medieval sounds
i hope they can hear his guitar
into the world
where he is now

duo

she has a fire burning
in her heart
a fast foot
always on the go

he has the steadiness
of ocean water
oscillating
with the waves

they hold each other's hands
and walk together
fearlessly
on land

together they maintain
a perfect balance
cause they are
best friends

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

A mom's advice at Christmas

be generous with your good words
be true to your words
and follow them with facts
to your best

be quiet about your good deeds
remember that people have all
different needs
and all need to feel loved

add warmth to your hands
when you touch somebody's hands;
add warmth to your words
when you touch their souls

and listen to their words
when your turn comes
to listen, but hear
the sound of their voice behind words

look people in the eyes
see if they're there for you
bring them there with your voice
and your words

when Christmas comes
rememeber what it is mostly about,
gather your family in the kitchen
do some work together
some cleaning, some baking
then wash and go to the church
be prepared to share
some of what you have
enjoy the music but also the silence
if you can find
hold on if you can
to the sweetness of things
as long as you can.

---------

if it is cold remember
to clean the ice off the street
in front of your house
so people don't fall and get hurt
and think bad thoughts off you
do not expect to be thanked for
just do your part
and sleep well through the night

Friday, December 07, 2007

quote of the day

"involve me and I will learn"!(unknown)

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

winter wonder


image credits:
Paintings from Rokuro.Taniuchi's�@Winter Scenes
www.city.yokosuka.kanagawa.jp/e/muse_e/taniuchi/winter/we_009.html



at the start of winter when is time
for the first frost to come,
when fall is gone and trees are bare
their leaves have mostly fallen to the ground

camelias smile right in the face of frost
and slightly blush but they are proud
and fulll of joy because their buds
will soon bloom in winter's wonderland

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

the tast of Christmas

the taste of Christmas involves
the smell of tangerines
and yellow stains
on your hungry fingers

to feel its texture we need a warm space
to grow mamma's sweet dough
into fluffy breads with swirls
of sugary nuts and plenty of raisins

for color the glass of red wine
that I am only allowed to look at,
in which grandpa has boiled
some cloves, cinnamon and a tad of pepper.

for mystery the smoke of real candles
to light up the dark, chase away the cold
we still remember on our lips and chins
from an icicle who broke off from the roofs' tin.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

end of the ball

and when they would have finished dancing
their sparkling colors glittering no more
they will return to earthy colors
sucked by the night wind into darker air

after the last and mad whirlwind is over
they will be let down onto the ground
where they shall keep the memory of warmer days
as they will take the shape of a warm blanket

for the earth that fed them until now
and to which they have returned.
tired being they will become quiet
and feed him now, harboring hopes of spring rebirth

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

quote of the day

it is hard to be a tree in LA
(source NPR)

Thursday, November 15, 2007

second bloom

the trees have gathered from the sun
sweet juices through the summer
and now they pour them in a copper cauldron
stir, and turn their sugar into colors

they have a dancing party with the wind
who shakes their ruffles
and their skirts and jackets till they laugh
and blush into a second bloom

the second bloom does not bear fruits,
does not make seeds, but it brings joy and color
to greet the fall, and takes us into the winter
with the memory of the last dance of the leaves.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

white noise

this morning I got
30 emails, two phone calls
and I have been tagged twice,
in a network of friends

I cannot see them otherwise
because they live too far away;
further than themthe Pakistani
suffer an intense social turbulence

but I still have a normal workday ahead
when my son worries at school about famine,
and not being pushed on the playground
while I worry about his shoes not getting wet

I will plan to change
a dentist appointment I cannot keep
a couple of bills somewhere on the fridge
these I cannot change

tomorrow I will
make a trip to the library
check out a movie, or two, or three
I will perhaps not get to see any

I am sure
my iTunes folder has music
I love or know I would love
if only I would get a chance to listen

the monkey in my head
has a harder time every day
sorting all sort of inputs
from the white noise polluting my brain

deciding what is important today:
like holding a little hand
singing a song before bed
making it up perhaps

in a creative impulse
or in a state of blissful boredom
where I am lacking a high speed connection
to the many sources of noise in my life

today

Friday, October 26, 2007

drought

all earth and creatures born of it
stand with pores opened to the sun
gathering force to strengthen them
while waiting for rain
or death - whichever comes first

the mirror man



credits Pedro Lash and luxegallery

the mirror man
sat in front of me
mimicking my emotions
repeating my questions

I thought
he understood me
because he showed
such a good empathy

one time I was about
to get too close
and fall on the slippery slope
of love simply because
I had worked hard many years
on learning to love myself

then he did something strange
he put on my face
a mirror
so I could see him
in my face
my face in his face
his face in my face
diving one into each other
ad infinitum

what drought
of candor
when exhausted of the trip
nobody
could see anymore
nobody
at the end of the search

on getting up i think
I may have hit him
with my arm trying
to break the ever so empathic mirror

I fear now I hurt him
or maybe just hurt myself
dizzy I can barely see
what remained of us
in those broken mirrors

perhaps memory was altered
I cannot now even be sure
if there was ever
really anybody
anywhere behind those masks
besides emptiness
and thirst

Thursday, October 25, 2007

the master potter

his hands trembled just slightly
his smile showed his face wrinkle
his eyes only betrayed
the really young age of his soul

clear and blue and full of light
his yes were often washed
with the colors used to paint his pots
the colors he kept alive from old days

his voice candid as the voice of a child
he told us a part of his story
one cold rainy day in Oboga
when he made us feel close to the earth


his gifts came onto him through hard work we call art;
his pain and joy from the same clayish earth
me molded all his life
with his heart

do

do whatever you do
with your head
with your hands
do it well

be whatever you are
be yourself - without shame
aim to grow better
every day

give and receive
the gifts of life.
share yourself
with your friends

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Gracias

a MERCEDES

Thanks to her we can fly
up and down the staff,
from the summits of high pitches
when she talks to a child,
to the valleys of sorrows
well known to mankind.
and because she speaks to us all
because she is so good
she makes the tiring trips
well worthwhile and makes us trust
that we can go along
and resist to the challenges,
facing us.

because of the beauty she shares
and the hopes she seeds
with her songs in our souls
because she reminds us that
we can cry, like others have done
and for so many other reasons
to long to mention
we give her today
thanks!

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

the literature teacher

in those school days
when speech was far from careless
and often censored
by questions, rules and fears
he made us a gift
we could not open and understand
at the time.
it was the gift of free speech
it lasted one hour
when - without rules
we addressed a simple question
without real answer
about the road we shall take
in the future.
he encouraged us to open doors
as many doors as we cared to open
or to knock on
with the curiosity to find
a goal in life

Friday, September 21, 2007

seascape

under the sea
white pebbles are rocking
rumors are spreading
from one to another
that a boat left its shade
on their carpet
that people are diving
just to talk to the fish
and to admire the reef
the pebbles are rocking
they try to get closer
to the site of adventure
but nothing really moves far
if it is not for the sea
to initiate the current

meanwhile a wise octopus
hides in the sand
and under teh pebbles
what's all this friction
about, perhaps they just care
about eating

at the shore a child waits
for his dad gone diving
and shells keep him entertained
with their permanent rolling
perfect examples
of the understandable attraction
he has for the sea

quote of the day


photo credit: Trikosko/Library of Congress [VIA PINGNEWS] and flickr

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.



“[...] we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and security of justice. We have also come to his hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.[...]” (1963)

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

tell me if you can

tell me if you can
feel the quiet love of a fish?
Jane can because she is a child
and her feelings have not been perturbed
by rules and regulations that prohibit
the crossing of borders between reigns
and species that have long forgotten
how to communicate candidly.

tell me if you can
hear the sound of a leaf falling to the ground?
Jane can because her imagination is free
because her age allows the trees to talk
serious talk among them and they allow
children to listen.When they decide
it is time to make a sacrifice they know
it for the best of the earth, and Jane understands

tell me if you can
talk foreign languages like the language of birds
willing to give her thanks for water and crumbs
and because she does not much care
if they eat fruit from her garden trees;
or perhaps you can make up the story behind songs
sung in arabic, or russian or french
because she can and I love her stories

tell me if you can
for a day a week be like Jane?
open your imagination beyond any rules
ever imposed on you by common sense or any other factors,
swallow the world inside and digest it
then spit it out with a rapid breath in fresh air
and tell me how can we become better
and more important younger, like her.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

tiny love2

tiny love over the city
spread through the air
with the baker's fresh aroma
and the music of the chapel's bell.

it sat with me a while
on the bench where I was sitting
eating breakfast food at lunch
but mainly watching

watching other people eating
hoola-hooping, or just chilling
letting old sadness come out
through the mouth, and keyboard sounds
of the jazz musicians playing

and after it witnessed all
ritual of sunday cleaning
through communion with the people
many of whom had never talked
with each other ever before
the little air of love took off
shrugged her shoulders and departed
for another city after smiling
at a a girl in fancy drsses
she was just done
paying her bills online
writing down check numbers
more organized than I have ever been
in my life
(and especially on sundays)
I swear.
(with all that, even me
I liked her)

tiny love


photo credits Gordon Bowbrick

when after all this drought
the first drop fell on the city
it brought a tiny love
for everybody living there;

the sound it made convinced
the grass to send out
scores of little blades
to green the ground

the scares the drought left
in the mud that dried out
in the sun need lots
of loving rain to close;

most of the trees deprived
of water did not get
their colorful autumnal coats
but they will wait;

meanwhile they all smile
a tiny smile with a sweet taste
on their cracked lips
kissed by a little drop

a little rain, a little hope
a tiny love,
what else
we need today?

Monday, September 10, 2007

sunday morning

the brisk air sneaked in
through the windows sills
and from behind the curtains
i guess the morning light shine

the coffee aroma is tickling my memory
while the water is waiting to boil
in a Turkish ibrik on an old stove-top
resisting the coming of heat

outside on the terrace
the red geranium is thirsty for water
the bougainvileas have shed some leaves
so they can read with me the newspaper.

the sea is waiting sparkling with light
the boat is ready to go fish
while all I wish is rest and enjoy
the salty clean air that I breath.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

children

Now they live in the present,
and they are always real
always here; they feel
the feelings you send
with your voice and your hand;
with your eyes and face
and with such grace
and force they hold you still
with them, in the present
we were alway meant to live
and they thrive
when we stay with them
long enough till they learn
themselves to dream
and escape out through the gate
in the fence we carefully built
around them (just like our parents did)
in the hope to preserve their innocence
for as long as we can.

music cries

Music cries
sometimes gently
dramatic at times
for the loss
of a voice
memory will not
let fade
among shades

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

AC terror

open the window
get real
it's summer outside
still

you're heating the planet
it's true
you pay part of the bill,
our kids will

pay for the rest
and this
because you cool this room
to give me a chill

raise the hairs
high on my head
in the end making me
AC freaking mad

Friday, August 31, 2007

square banana

a square banana
with a brown bandanna
laughed at me
with all the colors
she was knowing;
and was capable of showing;
her white teeth
biting every bit
of joy that she could meet
she started growing
in a shape - only
a charming girl could take.

what is left

after the dust you raised
while racing on your horse
will settle

after the noise
of stomping feet and voice
will fade

after the hot heat of today
when you are young and strong
will chill

after the battle
there is a longer time
that has remained to live

after all these I ask
what have you built, what have you left
to help your fellows through their days

what, have you asked?
it will be asked,
it will!

Thursday, August 30, 2007

girl interrupted

perhaps she chose to stay
in lower gear when the world around
decided to accelerate and fast
let it be felt by chosen ones.

and then it happened
that her inside world asked for rest
a complete stop since it couldn't follow
the world outside

her vision of the objects blurred
by too much speed
that's all that happened
she could not follow the outside world

every now and then
and every day and night
she could again focus her mind's eye
into one spot, into one moment

before she fell into vertigo spell.
she had to learn to hold and play in hand
a warm thin hand a fragile world - her own
and had to learn (again) to share her world

to not be hurt by interruptions
(be them brutal) to be cured
then was allowed to step back in
the never to be interrupted spin.

egoland

in egoland
should you ever travel there
we are all foreigners
lonely and still
we're used to build
a world of fun
for others to enjoy
or to destroy
with careless feet

but should we hold
a hand in hand
an eye in eye
should we vibrate
on the same wave(length)
we could stand
another summer
and another
with the resistance
of the sand
who slips manoever

rush

we rush to see the smallest things
that we can see
attentive to every detail
with the brain, within heart, the cell.

we rush so much and ask the questions
on the small stuff
every day but once a week
we shall step back

relax from our search
and wonder why
and what's the role
of the small stuff in the grand scheme of things?

and where
do we go from here
with higher speed
tomorrow

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

because

because if I have to walk on a rope
you are the balance for which I reach
with the tips of my hands when in need;

because you are mostly there, within reach
and the sound of your voice can restore harmony
at least in my world, whenever shaken by waves;

because I have learned to close my eyes
and imagine with your help a better world
no matter how the world looks like when I wake up;

this is why I woke up this morning
ready to walk on a rope
and have fun with it, wherever it leads

no matter what the crocodiles think

Sunday, August 19, 2007

the violin

"It taught me patience. That I could not achieve difficult things immediately, but if I continued to work and try, I would eventually be able to do things that seemed impossible before. Anger, frustration, despair, giving up, accomplished nothing. Patience and hard work could accomplish a great deal, The accomplishment gave me confidence. If I could do this, I could do other things that seemed very difficult. I might not always be able to understand just exactly how, but if I did not give up and kept trying i could perhaps eventually solve any problem that I felt needed solving. The trying involves concentration. Success does not come about by magic but by full concentration of the mind and body on the problem, When solution to the problem comes, it may not be fully understood intellectually or rationally, but it is a solution because it works."
Toba Sensei
from "The magic of Matsumoto: The Suzuki Method of Education" by Carolyn M Barrett

the violin

"It taught me patience. That I could not achieve difficult things immediately, but if I continued to work and try, I would eventually be able to do things that seemed impossible before. Anger, frustration, despair, giving up, accomplished nothing. Patience and hard work could accomplish a great deal, The accomplishment gave me confidence. If I could do this, I could do other things that seemed very difficult. I might not always be able to understand just exactly how, but if I did not give up and kept trying i could perhaps eventually solve any problem that I felt needed solving. The trying involves concentration. Success does not come about by magic but by full concentration of the mind and body on the problem, When solution to the problem comes, it may not be fully understood intellectually or rationally, but it is a solution because it works."
Toba Sensei
from "The magic of Matsumoto: The Suzuki Method of Education" by Carolyn M Barrett

Friday, August 17, 2007

anniversary

It was a hot day the 18 of august
when we gathered our friends
of which some were relatives
and some soon to become.

They came, some from afar
to witness and share
the joy of the day when
vows and promises of love were made

they stood there in the heat
to see the priest giving his blessings
to a bride dressed in white
to a groom dressed in green

and to their children to come.
and they heard his advice
on patience and trust that a reward will come
for the good you'll have done

we eat and talked and drank wine
then danced in the hot summer night
with dear people we had not seen in years
and with those we always held close

I framed in words to remember
the picture of the dear day
we celebrated love with loved
ones gathered in a bouquet like flowers.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

plaques

they are so small
one would doubt they even exist
they dot the prairie of the brain
in scattered rain
they make it function slow and bad
therefore they must be found
and treated before it will all
and too soon end.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

giving thanks

giving thanks
for the day and the place
where we're at
is something
I wish I would do
more often
than not

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Red



one day, plain like any other day
he was expecting night to bring the dark
and rest; instead he started seeing
that a long forgotten apple turned to red.
he did not know the name of colors
it was HIM who told him it was "red"
then everything around him
started changing and the light
seemed to give birth to colors
lively and so strong they could not be ignored.
he bit the apple and decided he will pay
for his grave sin of seeing
what was not destined to be seen.
she came around, but after he had made his mind
and smoothly moved around him, like a snake
she hugged him and she sealed the deal
with a red kiss that landed on his lips.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

quote of the day

"When love is deep much can be accomplished"
Shinichi Suzuki

prayer

I sing my prayer in loud voice
so that the anger all comes out
and leaves a lot of space for peace
I welcome in

i'd open all the doors and windows wide
for birdsongs to come in
for friends to come with time to talk
for harmony to set in

just give me patience
and teach me kindness once again
and teach me trust and I will do my best
to share them

and stop to world from spinning madly
just today, so wrong things fall
and we can build again
our faith

Monday, July 16, 2007

Friday, July 13, 2007

the system

the system is
nobody
the system's got
no soul
every now and then
a scapegoat
pays for all mistakes
alone

(leave alone the rules
established
by nobody known, nor when
dare make mistakes,
friends and enemies
and they will show respect
and maybe
some remains of old emotions
that will make you feel alive)

Thursday, July 12, 2007

kindness

people are good
or at least some of them are
on any given day
maybe they're not always the same

like angels
they may show up at crossroads
to lend a wing
and to give a sense of direction

please God
bless them and keep them with us
keep them the same
everyday able to lend one of their wings

Monday, July 09, 2007

memories

memories
are here to stay
to share
and be transformed
it is important
that they
should not vanish
if they gave joy
and equally important
suffering
in a lifetime
experience.

grandchildren are
the present
but also the dreams
of their
grandparents come true
once again
when they thought
all is left of their lives
were memories.

grandchildren are
the future
and partly projected
modulated past.
therefore please
when you do
whatever you are going to do
remember
the children!

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

stuff

Stuff versus soul
stress versus bike,
beach, wind or sand
what are you willing to give?
and what to keep?
or do you still think
you can have them all?
think for a blink!

Monday, July 02, 2007

poetry

like others sing
i write
in my own voice
and words

like others paint
I scribble
and my pen learns
every day

like you read
I do
before the day ends
and then

I dream

Thursday, June 28, 2007

sharing

let the rain fall
and soften the earth
ready to crack
hardened by a violent sun,

let us relax
and be friendly
to the guests who still drop
by our house

let us share
not only the burdens
but also the little
surplus of food for dinner tonight

and if nobody
shows up at the door
and you are forced
to dining alone

remember the birds
tomorrow they will be hungry for crumbs
they'll let you admire their feathers
dipped in dew and morning mist

Thursday, June 07, 2007

the world is you (I need a better title)

the world is calm
and time keeps flowing
with the same rhytm
like it always does

but if your heart beats fast
or if you fear the night
and cannot wait for morning
the flow of time
seems altered
just to you;

and if you spin and spin
and you get dizzy
it does not mean
the world's gone crazy
it is you
who turn too fast

the world is calm
and time keeps flowing
with the same rhythm
like it always does

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

chocolaty eyes

in her chocolaty eyes
there is so much sun
that my heart melts
when I look in her face.

(if I melt to be a fluid
that the sun will soon dry up
I shall become a drop of sweat
so she can wipe me with her hand)

my brain needs my coffee
with crushed cubes of ice
to wake me up and remind me
I am submerged in reality.

why, why , why?



photo credits Lisa Hatcher


why would I
walk your walk
talk your talk
paint your sky?

why would I
cry if you cry
smile if you smile,
hurt if you hurt?

why would I
be here for you
all for you, if I
did not love you

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

a man's nine lives (needs rewriting)

just like a cat this man,
he seemed to have nine lives
and made himself a new one
when others took one away

when he was young he dreamed
of a long-linear-healthy life
in which he would take care
of the land of his father

he went to school to become a lawyer
though and even practiced a few years
before he was disbarred
for the reason that he was born rich

they took his land away from him
so he was rich no more
he had to work for a piece of bread
with his hands - in a mine

when he had done his years he was freed
and he worked a cool job - again in the light
where the country was rebuilding itself
with his sweat, everybody's sweat

this all had to happen in a bare place
100 miles away from the city
his kids and his family
but he worked 6 days a week on the construction site

and he was happy to breath
air, read a book on train
who was carrying him home
at the end of every single week.

later on things got better
and he was starting to bloom again
when life decided it was time for him to retire
spend his days at home, where from the children had already left

to open their own new horizon
individually crafted (or so they thought for a couple of years);
and he opened a book, and he went to the church
with a candle to light up the past

he went far into the past
perhaps from fear of hurting somebody's feelings
if studying too much the present
or the not too distant future and past

he became a student of history
and a writer of lives, as they occurred to others
to whom we relate since we live on the same land
and all these despite of our laughs

and now that he is gone
we shall remember him when we see
the symbols that he deciphered
the symbols of a time we like to call a noble past

he lives through his writings
he lives his ninth live
that he may not have dreamed when he was young
and thinking of one linear life.

this man who like water
took the shape of the places he was thrown in
worked on building his own life while others
were thinking they imposed one on him.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

the road

I walked on this road
everyday for 20 years
or perhaps even more
and nothing ever changed
except for the cracks in the asphalt,
the depth of the holes
and the shapes of the shoes
that were walking along

it used to be filled with children
playing ball
or hiding from their peers
and their parents
till late
when the street turned dark

and now that I grew
somehow old and I can wear heels
I find that in the few years
I have not been there
everything has changed
but the stones.

secret island

at sunrise you told me
about an island who rose from the sea
in your dream.
you woke up and walked out in the morning
from your white house
and from the disappearing mist
the goddess a love
created for you
an island like a rose;
it was just then rising from the sea
and it was called Rhodos.
wrapped in a pink cloud she brought it to you
that morning when the aurore
touched your eyelids
with her fingers

and just because
I happened to be
next to you this morning
at sunrise you shared
your secret island with me

and now I have to go all the way
to Rhodos to see with my eyes
what you saw in your dream
when the day was getting ready to begin

the tree I wish I could to be

between an ephemeral butterfly
and a long lived olive tree
I choose to be
a winged - but rooted kind of tree;

between the twists and the knots
of the olive tree trunk
and the straight ascending pine
carrying with him all the vines
that dare to cling,
I choose to dance any kind of dance
that will keep the light
coming down to me;

and if I cannot be
what I am not
who cares
if I just talk a lot
and paint the walls
with all sorts of words
for which sounds
are yet to be invented?

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

you - may I ask

there are those
I have tried to love
because I thought I could see
their wonderful colors,
amazing colors that shone
even through the dirt that covered them
at one time or another.

some said: "do not bother to love me"
just as I was trying to paint
their true colors on their faces
they turned into shells
(mostly white shells)
and they still quietly wait
at the shore for yet another wave

some said: " do not bother to love me"
and they stepped out of my way
and into the deep, secret ocean
looking for a different life
and enchantment elsewhere
and they turned into
gently colored and moving anemone

some simply let me touch them
with my hands and my thoughts,
we drank together from glasses
into which we had squeezed
the essence of our true colors.
we must have mixed the wines and got drunk
for a year or two just to wake up
on a desert beach with white stones
everywhere and nobody with whom to share
the taste of salt and our thirst.

these must have turned into mist
and the droplets that fall right before
the raising of the rainbow.

but you - you make coffee for me
every morning, unless I make coffee for you
you - you catch me every time
I glide after being launched
from the top of the mountain
at the start of the rainbow;
you who can swim above all kinds of waters
and under all kinds of rainbows
while holding my hand
you - can I ask? what made you
bother to love me?

Monday, May 28, 2007

fly shoes!

I fell in love with a pair of shoes
red and pretty,
that I have never tried on;
frivolous thoughts danced in my mind
like butterflies,
until dizzy they fell on my beige flat shoes
who all exited decided to fly.
then why in the world would I
change them and their wings
for another, be it colorful, pair
if those shoes can fly?

Monday, May 21, 2007

the city

behind the glass walls and the steel
the heart of the city beats fast;
in the plazza where the farmers gather
the pace slows down and the air is warmer.

on the fast streets the nerves screech
in tune with these tired brakes,
on the lawn you can stop and secretly yawn
and you'll get back a smile from the strawberry vendor.

I came here to sharpen my intelligence, and my skills
compete for a place among the high ranks perhaps,
and I found out that sharing a family recipe
can be just as rewarding as well as heart warming


where does the city really live,
behind the glass walls and steel
or out in fresh air
where time has been known to flow freely.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

wake up

You wake up one day
and spring has come
it is the rain who tapped
with a tousand little fingers
at the windows, and now has stopped.
it left the place to the sun
who warmed up the earth just a bit
enough that there is perfume in the air
now from those pretty weeds.
as pretty and green as they are
they sneaked in the yard
from the forests,
they take over the lawn and your soul
and it is certaing that everything
started to grow,
including that song
you harbored in your chest
and kept warm during winter
now it is ready to go
high, in the air, free fliying
and lifting you up on its wings.
you are on your way
go ahead - dancing your way
forward like those pretty weeds
from the forest

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

quote of the day

"A cook's best tools are his hands". Ina Gartner

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

who gives is who receives

there are times and there are ways
that the way to win is to loose,
and the way to receive is to give
think of weight, think of energy
think of burning the logs and gaining the heat
the more you spend, the more you have

think of the fights you avoid
and the peace you gain
think of the good feelings
you get after doing good deeds onto others;
think of the bank of favors
where your account grows
whenever you help another.

think where you stand,
on the bench with the givers
or on the bench of receivers?
do you see them as two teams,
playing against each other
or do you hear them as chorus,
playing in harmony tunes,
taking turns, one after the other.

Monday, May 14, 2007

kitchen sink revolution

what would you think if all the kitchen sinks
on this old street of mine (and of yours)
will decide on the same day to cause trouble
and show disrespect towards people by means of a puddle;

a puddle on my kitchen floor and one under the counter,
a puddle in front of the fridge, and in front of the trash bin rubble,
and what if in their anger they would call in the ants,
the mice and the squirells to scare me out of my pants;

what if the bell and the phone will all ring
and bring messages from my neighbors that we are all in
the same kind of trouble and we all fight to get rid
of the same kind of puddles caused by faucets and sinks

Which would like to think that if they cause and maintain
a revolutionary disorganization they will all get attention
and grease, and only after we take care of them we'll get peace.
OK if you say, you call back the mice and the ants and I' ll be the plumber

trees in spring



photo credits David Clapp

The trees this spring decided to do
something unusual, uplifting but true
they gathered their sprits and took a deep breath
then lifted their branches up in clean air
and flapped them, and and shook them and gave a sharp cry
till the roots floated above the ground and they were ready to fly.

They flew over the fields early one morning
they visited cities, and villages in the county
then headed together towards the mountains
to see their relfections in a a lake who frozen in wonder
at the sight of trees floating above him tried to hid under
the shadow of the cloud. Then they turned back and replanted themselves.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

rain

it is spring time and rain
does not fall here in vain
my garden is growing
(I tried to keep the rabbits from knowing);
the playground's been washed
by the dust and the time will be best
to swing high, and slide low
tommorow. Meanwhile the lake waters grow
so we can go boating, fishing
and swimming, but when can we go?

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

the color of greed (purple?)

and what would it be
the color of greed?
and the color of pride
and the one for the shame
of a leader to admit
that it has happened indeed,
that driven by greed
bright people did cheat?
did they fall in shadow
will they recover without a scar?
I wish them the joy
of retrieving light in their soul
the heart to admit
it was a childish mistake
I won't do it again
this is it.

daydream / live now

though I live mostly now
sometimes I find myself
flying ahead in time
on the wings of my thoughts.
many times I fly in the past
and even more times
I live parallel realities.

As a sanity dream
I choose a green field
of a possible now
and let horses run free
out of my mind
to find paths they only can find.

And as I follow the horses
with a careful eye I am
realizing the beauty of now.
the translation of maybe
into what it should be.

smoothly when the break is over
the transition done
my eyes need to move
from the green field
to the white page
I need to fill in.
I need to leave it
for others to read
to know I have been here
in a moment of time.

and then I shall chase
the paths on the asphalt
the lanes on the highway
transforming myself
into the one
my neighbor needs for a chat
my child for a pat on his back
my mom for a phone call
my other one for sharing the ride
on the wild horses back.

where have you been?
welcome back in the present
where you belong
with your dreams and all.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

open the door

Open the door and they will come
be careful just whom you invite
you can become to them alike;
and if you let so many in
is it still your house the house you're in?
is it still you or do I greet a friend of yours
when I see you? and if this happens
is this wrong, or it will simply make you strong?
open the door, I told you so
they are all teachers and you are teaching them
a lesson too. don't be afraid to leave your footprint
in the sand, and on their souls.
just remember not to hurt yourself
when you are sharing and enjoying
the sips of coffee and the bits of realty
that your friends have brought for the big party.

Friday, April 27, 2007

quote of the day

"Since I am bent anyway, I might as well pick something up"
cannot remember the author but love him anyway for what he said

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

if

and if some sort of storm
or is somebody will demolish
the tower that I've build for many years
brick by brick that I sealed with my sweat
will I stand there and cry and try hard to forget?
or will I move some other place
under the sun and start to gather elements
and strength to build again?
will I relearn to build my happiness again?
and if I cannot move
will I become a dinosaur somehow
forgot by the global extinction?
or will I learn to fly, to swim,
and to go fish, reborn again
to dream a different dream
and walk a different road.
and some will doubt
not sure if it's a new road
or is the same old one I always walked.

Monday, April 23, 2007

teach me

I come to you as often as a can
and I admit it is rather rare
I make it to the shore
but when you greet me with a sea fan
I know I will stay here
glad to talk with the best teacher
about the lessons needed for a life plan
and you will teach me about patience
about persistence and resilience
about the need to storm at times
to get above the ground of laziness and lies
the waves, the wind the salt
that impregnates whatever come to close
they all have a few words to tell:
that I belong once I am there.

Friday, April 20, 2007

loop

loop, loop, loop
get me out of the loop
let me rise
and see what's outside
the loop
let me see what I can see
if I go fast enough
to rise
above the loop.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

my mom and dad and sister

my mom is very good not for hellos or good byes (but for taking care of me).

Mom and Dad

in her arms
is always warm,
in her eyes
a ray of sun
just for me,
always for me
because she
is my mom
and I am her son

his arms
will always try
to lift me up
his voice
will always cheer
for my team
as long as I play fair
I know he'll be there
and if I am wrong
he'll steer me strong
show me a way
that I can take,
things I can do
to make him proud
I know he's glad
to be my Dad.

the morning after

After the darkest night
the sun still raises
to shine its light
upon us and it amazes
to realize the earth still spins
the center of the universe has moved
outside us from within us
somewhere where the tears have dried.
off balance for a while we've been
the world was shaken for a moment
under fear but it has reached agreement
with itself that it must spin, spin, spin.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

black day

there are some days no one expects
and everybody hopes could be sent back
when the deep values one respects
are violated and the day turns black

the sky is bleak, there is hardly any light
that one can see but the faint shadows
of white pigeons raising through the clouds
amids the flurries dancing in the night

the box of colors has been emptied
the jukebox does not dare to play a song
the only feeling one can bring along
is grief for many young souls will be missed.

if none of us has such a power to revert
to previous days when things were right
then all of us somehow should fight
for a gun free life, to keep the kids unhurt.
(a gun-less fight, to keep the kids unhurt)

Monday, April 16, 2007

simple additions

music adds
rhythm to my day
speed to my steps
joy to my brain

colors add
ideas to brighten my day
mess on my pad
but they sure make me gay

the words I read
add wisdom to my thoughts
the means to connect with a friend
and to life goals

what you add
is something I did not know I miss
what you add to my life
is pure bliss.

Friday, April 13, 2007

the owner of a corner grocery store

he build confidence in the city
in his small way - trusting the people
letting them touch and choose
fresh vegetables and fruits

since he opened the corner grocery store
many years passed, and dust sat
on the shelves; people almost forgot
that he was the first to show such trust

then the storm came over his white head
it took off the roof, but left the walls up
to stand witness to its passage, not let us forget.
but we learned to accept.

and then he decided, and he quietly went
after the stormed passed
and we had learned to accept
what happened happened and what is left is to stand.

the flood washed away many things
and many paths of the past did not last
but he has left his mark
on the heart of the city

even though we know very well that he's gone
and they teared down the walls of the grocery store
there is still a fresh smell in that corner
and one wonders, perhaps he's still there

Friday, April 06, 2007

coffee time

photo credits Vassilis Caravitis

photo credits Michele Berti



you should greet with respect these people
like the pebbles, the stones, and their canes
they seem to have always been there
the traffic is barely noticeable,
even negligeable because of its speed
which leads to short life despite of the noise

Once time passed slowly by and decided
to stop and look at their faces
playfully carve perhaps a few wrinkles
while they would eat their mezedes.
But they looked back to him so innocently
and so unafraid that he stayed to sip from their coffees.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

quote of the day

To have a brother or a sister is to have a blessing.
It is to have somebody, somewhere for you, despite of all differences. It is perhaps the first presentation of the concept of "we" instead of "I". Strength and endearment. It means to have somebody with an incredible capacity of forgiveness for you. And love. for granted, from birth. It only needs so little care.Little drops adding to make an ocean.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

come and go

come and go into my life
through the windows
that I have left open
but the winds that will bring you
I cannot control as much as
other knocks at the door

the door I cannot control
there is always somebody there
with a key and they won't give it to me
I do not know what they are guarding
and how but most time I do feel free
and most times they will let you come in to me;

I do not know who they are, and their rights
I guess they work for the landlords
and they want to decide when you have to go
and when you can come back
and you have to convince them
but I do not know of what.

Friday, March 30, 2007

feed my brain


photo credits Dennis Dixson

feed my brain with better thoughts,
show some emotion give me some time,
open your ears and hear that
which I say: I am yours and I
will touch your life
someday more than today.

but now is the day
when you can touch mine
when you're given the chance
to hand me a sun ray
to help me climb over the rainbow
perhaps we could tame its wild horses.

don't let my ears close
to the frequency of your voice
don't let my brain fill
simply with noise
sing me a song now
while you still can feed my brain.

(http://www.photo.net/photodb/user?user_id=97366

magic glue and pixie dust (2)

what kind of magic glue and pixie dust
did you throw in, and mixed with the words
before you tied them neatly in a row
threw them towards me where they touched me
and they stayed ever since stuck to my heart
shining incessantly, especially when it is dark?
but what, tell me what is stronger than words
and what is weaker than words
when there is a lot of thin air between us,
an old bumpy road and an ocean to cross?
what else can you do - other than talk
unless you decide to pick up your shoes,
finally get a sense of direction and walk ?

Thursday, March 29, 2007

green friendship

there once was a child
who befriended a tree
who grew carelessly in front of his door;
But the tree started taking care of his limbs
just barely scratching his knees,
when he was not being gentle and kind;
the tree grew taller and straighter
with time, the child grew wiser
and one day he left home to go far;
when he let go of the tree
he hurt his arm, and got a scratch on his knee;
he took many steps on the road that he chose,
and he chose to walk many roads,
but the vertical path, and the need to grow up,
the joy to swing with the wind,
and the need to stay clean,
that he learned from his tree
these are lesson that stay with him.

memory


photo credits : judy ben joud
and I miss her sweet soul
and the flame in her voice
when she was defending the truth
and was doing her best to bring proof;

and I miss little gossips
about princes and artists;
around a coffee cup
and a plate with some cookies;


and I miss a good word
that she would launch
with positive energy
always meant to encourage and help me;

the knowledge, the style
the curious friends, and mysterious words
she was mumbling in French
when I, as a kid, was to not understand

If I go back and sit at her window
then as usually lean out (just a bit dangerously)
how would I know if the wind shaking the curtains
is not there to tell her hello?

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

rebellion

and why in the world
should I walk the same path
why would I want to be
nothing better than you,
who's only role might have been
to bring me up
in this world
(and you did not yet figure out
how it works)?
should I be grateful
should I be hateful
for the state of things?
should I take my guitar
and cry with its strings;
should I look for peers
when I feel in my heart
that there's nobody yet
thinking like me
or loving my art?
or should I run hard
to be the first in a race
ahead of the others
and leaving no time
to think of the past
(whether or not is for me
to understand).
leave me some time
to calm down
come back when I'll have
my own kids to talk to
perhaps then I'll buy your advice
with solid gold but for now,
leave the door closed
I will decide
when to come out
of my shell
for a hug.

One

Do I know one, or do I know many
sometimes dark and silent
often moody and windy,
at other times inviting and bright
apparently tame and so sunny
as only a mirror to the one
real sun can be?
by now you must know
that we talk of the sea
the many colors we see
beyond the foam that washes
from pebbles to sand and to dust.
host to the fish that are living
and dying and feeding a horde,
while she stays immutable,
feared and still loved
indispensable to all
the different, many faceted
uniquely invincible one

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

evening blue thoughts




for more see the Vincent van Gogh Gallery

at the end of the day
we hope that the stars will stay in their place
that we' ll get to see them again
even though we are constantly moving in space

we secretly hope that we'll never grow old
that our children will fill the day with their laughs
always in tune and always surprising for us,
while we manage to be bright, wise and somehow incredibly young

if the world is to be subject to changes
we hope it will despite everything be for the best.
with such dreams under our hats
we head up to bed for a well deserved rest.

quote of the day



"Be the ball!"

from here

wonderful world

this morning I walked out the door
my right foot first and ready to dance
on the ray of sun that usually takes me
from here to where I need to go in no time.

there was music on the radio
the car ride was smooth and the drivers almost polite
while we shared the road they crossed a few yellow lights
and but one crossed my path in a dangerous way.

I made it here ready to do my usual thing
start the morning with a coffee and then increase the tension
hour by hour till lunch break when I was unprepared
to learn that again the world was going to war

an airplane has failed to take off
schools are struggling here to keep up with the pace of
an increasing number of children; while somewhere else
incredibly far they were starving to death, or refused education.

My lunch break ready to end, I am going to return to my desk
and leave it to others to wonder on what us important to do with a day
shall we change the face of our politicians or is it a way
to deal with the world in our own time, with our own hands.

Are we ready to dance, are we ready to fight and protest
are we ready to go back to a normal day?
as if there was ever such thing as a normal day everywhere
for everybody in this wonderful world.

Friday, March 09, 2007

LA

villager in LA
almost drunk
from too much sun
and too much salt

the colors spin
from bougainvilleas
to a big screen
the eyes adjust

if only the asphalt
would not burn my shoe
if only the gray of the street
could be swallowed by the sky blue

I would stay here
on top of the hill
to wait for the day
when the poors get rich in LA.

Monday, March 05, 2007

the sea

she never stumbles
she always tries
till she shines
to burn your eyes

the memory keeper

she went to the village
in serch for the roots
for the air who made her ancestors
be who they were when she met them;

the old lady seated in front of the guest house
was related to her, in a way
most villagers were
and she told it to her

she said it quick without a warning
making sure that she gives it to her
in such a way that she will remember
and transfer the duty - of the memory keeper.

77

What is it that makes you move
in a dialog with an upper seated person
from priority number 97 to priority 77?
what strings should you play ?

should you play loud or just be gentle
just making your voice heard
will maybe change the perception (of who you are?)
and move you up to the high number seven?

will you ever be number one
for anybody but yourself and sometimes
your circle of loved ones and friends?
will otherwise fame or money sparkle genuine interest?

if an idea is not heard
it does not matter if it is good or bad,
if patience is lacking and people are many
competeing for attention you may not get any

perhaps you shoud be the first to not to the same
to those who are seated below you
if the little ones will not blame you
for this fault you may be changing the unattentive person.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

exception to the poem rule: there is light


cape Hatteras

cape hatteras old lighthouse

cape lookout

Patras

Nafpaktos



Ocracoke LighthouseBodie LighthouseCurituck Lighthouse
Ocracoke, Bodie, Currituck...

There is a light that takes me back to the places where I belong.
To learn more about the NC lighthouses see the US Coast Guard website at
Historic Light Station Information & Photography: NORTH CAROLINA
To learn more anout Greece's lighthouses see the page made by Pavlidis Savas on

days of the wolf

the same forest everyday
you cross in a stroll
some days you enjoy the walk
free of care and with joy in your heart
as if clouds were not even an entrance
in your dictionary of moods;
some days you are so full of song
that you forget the advice of your mom
and go deep in the forest just to see
what there is to see
and you always come home
at the end of the day
from the same path
you have always known.

some days have a tone of gray
and then you know these are
days of the wolf
when you know you shall fear an assault
and beware of strangers
or even friends with too sweet the words.
you walk more alert
and you do sometimes shiver
but this make the pace of your walk somehow better
and you always come home
on the path that you have already known.

some days the fear of the wolf is so strong
that the forest so normally quiet
seems to whisper in your ear
at times that you least expect
advice on where you should step
if you ever want to get
wherever you wanted to go in first place;
sometimes the fear of the wolf
makes you go to strange places
behave in strange manners
or just open up and ask help
from total strangers;

if you walk straight
keep your head up
and trust intact
no matter how much you shake
you will eventually find
the right path and go wherever you wanted
or if needed turn back
to the path you always trusted.
don't let the fear of the wolf change you
just walk crefully step after step
and trust that you'll get
into the light.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

this one

This one little girl
all giggles or screams
quickly balances
between the extremes.
it is not my intent
to judge or criticise her
my only dream
is to put in writing her picture.

she has a few spaghetti curls
but otherwise
she's basically made
out of tortellini.
her smile is a twisted
candy cane;
her eyes are liquidy chocolate,
her tummy is full of bananas.

her shoes come attached to thin legs
they're lollipops and she is changing the flavors
as often as you are changing your socks.
she does things all by herself
for which I am grateful and ready to kiss
her marshmallow cheeks.

Monday, February 26, 2007

romantic soul garden

I do my gardening in the most chaotic fashion
whenever my friends will drop by and give me a seed
I will put is aside for a while or feel forced to plant it at once
depending on the width of their smile and the urgency suggested by it.

wherever loving words fall from their flight roses tend to grow
but wintery fights help lots of weeds engulf the sweet plants in a circle of mistrust,
wherever swords words fall, the ground who gets wounded tends to forget
about its ultimate goal and it leaves place to desert unless I water it with forgiveness.

my garden, my garden at the crossroad of lives
whom shall you touch if not those who take care of the patch
whom shall you teach about pruning and weeding and the efforts it takes
the patience and song and the many steps to the fountain and back ?

Lucio Dalla


In his voice I hear
the many grains of salt
taken out from the sea and dried by the sun
on all of these beaches where his feet took him
at times pushing against the wind;
or peacefully sat - streching a minute well into sunset.

I feel the dust of the city
sitting in a superficial layer
atop of his notes and this makes me trust
that the words I can hear rolling in the air
from the tip of his tongue and experience of others
come from this very real world we share all of us.

Storms passed over his head,
few thoughts stopped entagled in his beard,
but the joy of living in this world of ours
still wakes him up and opens his windows
in the gentle air of the Sunday mornings he brings
in our souls with his songs - for which I bring thanks.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Five

The first trial to find
through the rule of fives
who I am may lead somewhere
and if not to far I have just found out
its hard to find five bloggers to ask the same.

Let me say thing one: I have no patience
and sometimes no prudence;
somedays I explode
into the world with a dream
clearly writen on my forehead;

the second is that my friends
are so few that they are becoming
transparent, ready to fade
or rather evaporate through the curtains
in the outside world;

the third is that I find in hard in this twirrling world
to stop their dance, this dervish dance
and have them at home on a couch
for a cup of tea or coffee and
the opening of hearts;

the fourth is that even though
I have been burried under an ocean
of silence I still think that one day
I will open my mouth to say all the words
that my friends were waiting for and they will forgive.

in other words I believe that true love
encompasses redemption;
has hidded powers and can cross oceans
erase the time stamps on unwritten letters
smooth wrinkles.

The fifth thing I say in a wisper
I am afraid to share some of my dreams;
I wish I was all crystall clear but I am not
and therefore I work on washing away things I want not
in my mind. Meanwhile I am afraid I will forget.

colors of truth

Strange lady - reality
does not always wear
the colors we'd like her to.
it is up to us to open our eyes
and look at what we dare;
have our share of its beauty
sometimes cruelty;
in truth her colors
are what the artist sees of them
when he decides to paint
her portrait on his canvas.

Alone


photo credits Mellik Tamas

when you are alone
the sound of your thoughts
like a bell in a tower
makes you aware
of who you are;
happiness rarely
visits isolated towers
but if you make your thoughts
chime in an alert rhytm
your friends gather around
dispersse the loneliness
and threaten to change
who you are.
ready to change?

Thursday, February 15, 2007

the powers in you


photo credits Mellik Tamas


In your hands
the power to change;
in your legs
the power to move;
in your mind
the power to shape
the world -
your world.
in you I trust
that you will know
to choose where to go
and where not to;
in you I trust
that you will choose
your friends,
and change your ennemies
into friends;
that you will avoid
indiferrence;
your heart has the strength
to love many people;
yor tongue can talk
kind words
your acts can be good
and stay with your people;
your eyes have the skills
to open each morning
the gates to a new world
of beauty;
just take the patience
to add to it everyday
a drop of love,
and a couple more
of sweat when you make
the powers in you
work.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Ana

she has the simplest name
and the most straightforward smile;
she laughs from her heart
and cries with all her strength,
she runs and she dances
like a butterfly in the sun;
in the light that makes her grow
always true to her heart.
as for me I am learning
from the young soul she has
to clean mine with water
never as as pure as her heart

light

The light of my life
shines in your eyes
the warmth that I need
I feel when you encircle
me in your arms;
the softest whisper
I can hear is the touch
of your hands;
(those gentle hands
can move mountains)
the power to give
love - you have given to me
as well as the promise
that toghether we shall be
strong and quite possibly
happy.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

breath

Take a deep breath
and learn to live
calmly and dearly
at the edge of the forest;
learn to breath slowly
as your arms grow
as long as the branches
longing for sun.
open your chest
with air
fill up your mind
with light.
at times
learn that it's good
to close your eyes
relax in the dark
till it is time
to rise and shine
again
with a new force
and new love
for life.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

give

Give to receive
it leaves a trace
of goodness on your face
and it brings peace;
you'll become rich
the more you give;
the more you run
the farther you will be reach;
the stronger you'll have become
the more gates you'l open
with your tired
generous hand
always reaching out
for a friend in need
because it can.
is it a paradox?
the more you give
the more will you receive.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

be happy

open your eyes each morning
and look straight at me
be happy that you are here
as much as I am I am happy
because you came to be
such a nice person
such a good friend;
I do not know what
would I do in the end
if it were not for you
to brigthen my day,
to take me for walks
even if I have to wait
always too long
for you to return.
I may be but a dog
but I prefer people to call
me - my man's best friend.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

if

if life is
what I think it is;
if joy does not
always mean comfort;
i do not mind
sleeping for once;
under the sky;
just to awake
to the bright light;
just to see
who had gathered
onto the same beach but me;
I do not mind
mingling with people others may blame;
I do not care if they voted the same.

What I do care is to open my eyes
and exercise the difficult act
of opening one's soul
sometimes my own
as a present to you,
sometimes delicately yours
as a present to me;
and sometimes, more and more rarely
the soul of strangers
if he decides that it needs to bloom
or to burn or to cry in front of our eyes.

Am I to judge or am I to help?
Am I to hurt for an unknown
but possible friend,
and most important of all
will I be given the chance
to understand
you?
only if you let me to.

so would you care
to share with me
the open air for a day
a warm cofee
on a cold day
on a street;
will you dare
to be yourself
to be humble and ready to taste
how it is like to be different
my friend?

Monday, January 22, 2007

cold

This cold
as mild as one can claim
it is
is sneaking to my skin
fast
like a layar of discomfort
close
to driving me mad.

Between my boots
and my socks
between my jacket
and my sweater
between my gloves
and my sleeves
sneaking in
like a thief
an univited guest
we forget about
as soon as snow falls
and we can play
snow angels
and build snow men
and women and children;
this is when we do not care
we do not mind
and for a day
we do not long
for spring.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

wanderers


http://gallery.photo.net/photo/4025496-lg.jpg
photo credits

can you guess, can you think
where do they come from?
and where will they go?
where from they bring

the grains of salt in the wind
the smell of shells
becoming fine sand,
under the sun and the wave?

do they bring joy to you
and the thought of your feet
stepping lightly
on a beach?

or do they bring fear
of the darkness under the wave,
or perhaps of the height
when you are on top of the crest

a crest that is changing
position and shape
that from green
will turn purple at sunset

that is spliced by orange
and touches of other colors;
or are you mistifyed
by its colors

by the electric blue
that keeps in balance the day
when it gets ready to fall
over the edge of night;

are you strong enough to rest
even if the earth is changing.
will you shed all fears
when the day returns

when the waves dress
in a light blue dress
or a deep ink color
under the sky

under the sun that shines
and shrinks all problems
for a while, to let us glorify
the light of the day.

Friday, January 12, 2007

new breath

The year has started
with a new breath
of cold air and a vision
of clear blue water ;
the mountains
have covered themselves
in snow which stands
nearly immaculate,
here and there dotted
by the feet of red cardinals
and blue jays.
A rabbit jumps softly
over the ground in search
for the remains
of the vegetable garden;
the squirels stop for a second
from their bussines
and try to remember
where they had burried
my daffodil bulbs,
while I look forward
to the end of the day
to read sleepily a story
with old gnomes to
a fresh breathed child.