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DO LEAVE ME
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do leave me with no breath...
do leave me with no other thought…
do leave me with no mind…
my pleasure is...
my destiny...
my hope...
play me tonight...
write on me tonight...
burn me tonight...
a poem I am into the hands
a melody in your mind...
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LET ME BE
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...and if I cannot be the sun
which is burning every pain
in your heart
let me be that tiny flame
on your candle
which is opening
another world of happiness
through your walls...
...and if I cannot be the tree
of a hug forest
which is refreshing your soul
let me be that slim leaf
on a branch
which is captivating
your tender glance
making you tremble
by daylight...
...and if I cannot be the time
of your day
which is leading your life
let me be that blue moment
in your night
which is bringing
a memory dream filling you
with the hope of the first sunrise
after thick obscurity,
the first sunbeam of light
into the sky
without expecting it...
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LOVE PROMISE
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I’ve been searching for a piece of clothing
to dress your silence
not to drift alone and naked
in the unextinguished fire of my soul…
I’ve longed to bring a cause as a present
to your solitude to have something
to comfort my cry all those nights
I feel you walking silent in my sleep...
I was full of desire to mould your existence out of your absence
everytime you’ll be crossing my wall as a shadow
signifying an everlasting promise...
perpetuating humanity’s yesterday into tomorrow...
every present into a beginning...
whatever teardrop into hope...
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MY RED T-SHIRT
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This single night...
this single night only,
play me like the strings
of your guitar...
sacrifice me into the melody
of your fingers...
and if I,
who Ι have nothing learnt
about notes and music,
offer to you a single sigh,
forgive me...
it would be out of nostalgia...
it would be out of love...
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PLAY ME LIKE THE STRINGS OF YOUR GUITAR
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This single night...
this single night only,
play me like the strings
of your guitar...
sacrifice me into the melody
of your fingers...
and if I,
who Ι have nothing learnt
about notes and music,
offer to you a single sigh,
forgive me...
it would be out of nostalgia...
it would be out of love...
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PRETEXTS
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The most expensive weapons we gathered
to enforce with them peace...
The most developed technological systems we maned
to enforce with them peace...
The most cut-throat army manoeuvres we endured
to enforce with them peace...
The most lethal energy matter we invented
to enforce with it peace...
Forgive us Lord !
After all these how can we save time
to deal with humankind a little bit !
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STATIONS of SEPARATIONS
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I feel your body
warm upon my body
and your eyes
so silently caress me...
and after that the stations
of trains, airports, buses,
that suck the sweat
of the departed ones,
of the half-existing lovers,
who lonely as ever
who more strangers than ever
lament upon the rails
of airport corridors
without holding any suitcases...
only with the remembrance of strong love
which still so liquid
still drips upon our lips...
It isn’t being abroad that hurts...
no...
more is the sadness for me this moment
as I look at you...
as you become distant as away
from my body...
just at this moment of time - like a glimpse -
as I close my eyes only for a moment
only to breathe... I breathe so deeply
in the unforgettable sense and taste of your skin...
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THE HUMANITY POEM
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Tantalized the words drop'd
and painted with their blood
the verses.
They drop'd weak
like the corpses of precocious fighters
like the unshaped bodies of children
like the bare facts of history.
And as the last verse
of the stanza appeared
in my hands I found not
the poem lying.
Breathing warmth to
the Entire Humanity
to stop the suffering..
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…THIS SILENCE IS TRICKLING OUT…
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What thanks should
I find
to offer to you ?
nothing can reach
my gratitude...
Which look’s color
should
I wear
to warm your silence ?
no one can breathe
into the shadows...
A prayer
I save
into my empty hands
to fill
your heart
with serenity...
(this silence is trickling out...
is trickling out...
is trickling out eternally...
straight on the core of the creation).
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WHEN THE POETS LIE DOWN
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Perhaps the most depressing stories are told
when we are alone at night,
to bear the death of others
and their loneliness.
And when we lie down
we always
keep our hand stretched out
because…
imagine ! every sad person coming
at night and having
not even one hand to hold on to !
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