Moxica… 116 poems FE Chabu devi t.’ 2012} 2017+2019 Motto: Ode to FRC I drove along Chaussee Road this morning. Looked up and saw that our Cultural Fortress had been sacked. I'm too numb to cry. So the sky took pity on me and it rained. +Dawnnbooks..t. a. QUEEN MAB Felix Rian Constatinescu QUEEN MAB {13 poems} Felix Rian Constatinescu August, 2017 – "O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lies asleep; Her wagon-spokes made of long spinners’ legs, The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces of the smallest spider's web, The collars of the moonshine's wat'ry beams, Her whip of cricket's bone; the lash of film; Her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat, Not half so big as a round little worm Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid: Her chariot is an empty hazelnut Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love; O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on court'sies straight, O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees, O’er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail Tickling a parson's nose as a’ lies asleep,
Then dreams, he of another benefice: Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two And sleeps again. This is that very Mab That plaits the manes of horses in the night, And bakes the elflocks in foul ****tish hairs, Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, Making them women of good carriage: This is she—" — Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, Act I, scene IV MADNESS MANAGEMENT I was born with a crazy Father and Grandmother Two crazy Brothers and now my sister is ill Too much sugar - and my Mom was called Crazy Then I met many crazy people one big nudorama And highschool was the best alone with three madmen For thirty years stalked by homosexuals and psychos So madness management is my lifestyle and what Can it be done except listen and ask questions? Pilgrimage I went on a pilgrimage today my love To the indigo temple of your soul & spirit All Jesus could say was Mary mm that is good But I was walking in you and breathing ice I was afraid to pose for a portrait So my incandescent eyes would show up So if we have brain who knows to kiss? Sweet you made me happy & you were miles away. Lost in Myself I lost in myself on the path of pleasure Now I am drunk searching for icons In this world for the holiness of beauty O Gods how beautiful you must be –
I am trapped in my head full of seeds & I think of yesterday & her marble chest No no please don't kill me with stones I am in love I am in love I am in love. Love's Songmix Kiss Love is a silence songmix like a kiss But you have to wait more than than fight So I'll wait for you looking at the sky With courage and a growing heart Please love me you said and I did And the world took life so I wait in the dark At the writing table alone and sad Remembering you and counting your icons. A Brain of Numbers for Eliza. She is a brain of numbers always praying I am not aswell much more a sinner Tearing up Orthodox or Heretic Bibles Decade after decade & prophesying Death But she is gentle as a tell in Persia Always on her knees always singing Her hand feeds the land and my heart But our love is like the Gods - unseen And if Martyrdom will come our way We will say to God - Please stay And if Love will never Be from the tree Heaven we'll see. Personal Exodus To England. Trees are sad today they cry in lobachevskian lines Far I will leave them none will take with me O orchard o forest it is but your death And the Black roses have not bloomed - how sad! I will leave my country and go to the shores And weather will be my friend a strange immigrant Poet - this is a hope - but more the pain
Of dying and of unrequitted hunger - I will forget. RELIGIOUS Mother, I fell in love with a Girl A very beautiful girl b/ that's not it A religious girl I haven't felt like this Since seventeen Her beauty is brain transmuting in spirit But I must confess - her eyes make me Lose myself in God - She is not a woman But God manifest Please, Mother, hold me make me not betray you I have two lovers - forgive me - and She is not More beautiful than you She is just God Should I love him? My mind is religious I am infected and surrender to love Logic has no avail I broke the chess table how I wish You were here and let me dream with you Mother I am Jewish. Who Are You? To Thysbe Who are you my love? Athena? Artemis? Thysbe? Tell me your name so I will Write it in heaven Is your name a prayer a word From beyond? Are you the God of love and true happiness? Tell me your name Write it in marble and spirit I have walked to all the temples Looking for you and waiting In silence Your hands are t hands of a worker You work until now? are you a brook A temple a prophet? the god I adore And pray for. Crescent Peach
I started eating a velvet peach but I stopped Feeling as if I eat the Moon like a mythical demon I put it on the pocket book New Testament In Mom's library And this vision gives me thoughts of unloveness Not love - because only God loves and Mary I ignore it and think of beautiful things like Daffodils by WW I wish this peach to remain forever alive I love it But I am just a fool and love has worth o Gods They said Whitman was a loser I say a prophet Of truth and profits Dad offered me this peach for me to eat but i stray And take it as a knick-knack a porcelain bubble To keep it near and drown in thoughs so give me help Giveme t peach of love. Songbird I am a Nightingale who sings locked in your palace Like in a blessed cage of velvet bars I pray here And wait for Wentai to come in my arms I pray Your soul is a bird I wait in the dark alone and in love I do not need the world Except its songs and stories if I had to walk a thousand Miles I would if I had to die but you are here and alive Where are you? Looking in the Spring It's dawn and I sit by the waterless spring thinking of God And looking in it I wait for the water to fall The spring is the sunrise window in Mom's room I am pensive There's nothing left in the brook except stained-glass Stones like genii of the earth with funny faces I abide there looking at the marble pebbles and the enlightened mouth By the icon I pray. The Organ A boy older than me had a Casio organ from America
I liked it I wanted it for me and seeing it I began to think Of it to want an organ for myself I even went with Dad To a dealer and tried three I always believed the schoolboys at Baptist churches Don t know to play it I was Orthodox and praying But organs attracted me platonically I wanted one And I almost had a computer. Nectarine. A Tragedy A fruit half peach half apple a genetic discovery Does the apple regret the gentleness of the peach? O Gods do nectarines grow in trees or not? O Spirit You say more peach... b. Love Declaration # 2017 LOVE DECLARATION {fiefteen poems} Felix Rian Constantinescu 2017 The Baby She is the baby beautiful as a bee Tired in September and free I love her but She doesn’t love me She is in Love She is the baby beautiful as a bee Tired in September and free I love her but She doesn’t love me She is in Love. Sappho s Confession My forehead is filled with dew I wipe it but it grows right back Love not pleasure I think pleasure Is for rats and mercurys I try to get close to you and speak To your lips to say that I wait That I Love that I stay but will you hear? Please kiss me and let me. Love Declaration
You are the hidden love Hidden inside me – beaten Rejected and cherished You are the hidden me The others are not you Not transgressions though Why do you come to me What do you want? So I will go And tell your name to the heavens I will speak your name To the world You came To the brook of my heart Here you wait me For millennia. Thais Jesus died for the world Mary died for a kiss Theologians are perplexed & I pray to go up Luther couldn’t explain this I am the sinning virtuous If sin is a kiss Please please please come to me. Love I met a kid looking at the sun At the borderline of a hospital And I think now is love for the rich? The poor love the most I saw two people at the edge of a road And I think do they know love? Why don’t they teach it To the poor and cinderellas? A Boy Christened Cinderella Mother loved him very much
She was the only one She wished to give him her love So he would find love But world is made of diners And no food and collective loneliness The Prince is away on a hunt And Cinderella is just dying. Cinderella at the Hospital I saw a girl at a hospital I went to I must confess She is my number two The first is a blind singer somewhere So what could I tell you? The worth of a woman is not in the work In the brain or faith but in love And beauty – so Cinderella waits For a healthy boy to come to his senses. I Am Just A Girl Asking For Help So I am bad Sorine I gave you my love but you are on your high horses Society has no courage And you are not my friend anymore I don t expect excuses and I know I had a brother I just wish to live my normal life with my big normal brain So I am writing a letter Pace Even the genii kill themselves so Mr. Trump This is the gospel you want? I don’t know I don’t know why idiots Can’t listen to a girl? God is far way out but I’m here Alone under the lamp-post George and Kramer visit me And the Sorrow. On Eating A Piece Of Bread A good man gave me a white bread Two days ago and I still eat at it Alone in my room by the rhythmic icon
I hold it in my hand and think Something like a kiss or the communion The bread becomes my gray brain But who is this bread what field of rain? What bird of wheat died for me? New York In my youth I dreamt of going to New York To me it seemed as the coolest city W the NBC, books and Tribeca music & movies I thought New York should be my destination But I am a suburban boy with no true faith Far in the deep so I never really went to US I have a friend there someone who cared For me so I’m here now and think of NY. Love Came To Me Like A Beggar Love come to me like a beggar And took my hand humbly Walking in the dust She said Love is the greatest of All Love is no thief is just a girl Crying because of Destiny Yea if Love’s real then we All wasted our life for not knowing. Mary’s Family Daddy is far away and Mary is working She sends a letter each day There’s lots of work at the factory And the kids are unborn She met a soldier who wants peace And She’s gonna give it to him She gets ready for Christmas And waits for somebody to turn off the light. A Girl I had a girl for ten years from my village We were like peaches and pie the 2 of us But She had a husband and an annoying
Younger sister so it was a clean Romantic Affair I have no regrets I tried to live right She even confessed her love to my Mother In bed with her & then She died & before that I looked at her & thought how beautiful She is. I Stay With The Bread In My Bed I stay with the bread in my bead I know this way bugs will come But I cant help it I wish to consecrate My body with prayers and love So I will become good as bread To be ate and be cherished Like this place is a church For the desperate and beggars. The Dove Comes For Love for Kina Grannis The Dove comes for love I don’t know her name and She‘s hungry so what will I do Willi open the window and Put my bread before her Or not? She didn’t come now The Dove is afraid too scared T eat b I m make my confession. He Kissed Me I saved Louis Armstrong today He was working and I went up to him And he kissed me wow I feel Very sinful I saw that giving myself To him would mean something To him anyway I think he’s A beautiful human being and Dinner w great I hope t see h again. The Spring I have a spring in my room
I don't drink from it but others do I don't like the water but I am sensible To others feelings and they are thirsty But sometimes I get mad I think Of closing the spring with concrete somehow But it would be wrong to kill a spring So I just lie in bed and despair. Mountain Flower She is a mountain flower With eyes transparent water And mouth of red petals My second my Nagasaki So I’m gonna hand here A little bit! She just thought Of Love and this is the reason A lovethinker building temples. Olives Look man the peach is almost dead Is the sky magenta or lead? I would ask what you would do If someone says they love you? But here on the bank of the dam There are olives Uncle Sam I would pray please come and say You will work my trees today. The Dark Girl My Mother was daylight like Rihanna But She s the dark girl hiding in the night A computer in love and I m going crazy I m so sad today and I don t think I can cope People are indifferent and world is a spiderweb We are all sick and especially myself so I m gonna Sleep She hides in a computer I hate my life And want to die to go in a place computer free. c. Moxica. 10 poems Flowers
Flowers must be cared for Cultivated and loved and watered They must be touched and kissed Must be kept in sun and rain and night Flowers of all colours must be loved Cherished put above all things in the world Loved until craziness plucked like hearts Of unicorns and sirens and kept in dark. My First Hobby My first hobby is in killing spiders I don t hate them though I just Am afraid of them like really afraid And I think of their psychology I believe in an earlier life I was a Spider so you may say I love my own I kill them not with a broom or book But I kiss them passionately & t die. He Kissed Me! I saved Louis Armstrong today He was working and I went up to him And he kissed me wow I feel Very sinful I saw that giving myself To him would mean something To him anyway I think he's A beautiful human being and Dinner w great I hope to see h again. On Eating A Piece Of Bread A good man gave me a white bread Two days ago and I still eat at it Alone in my room by the rythmic icon I hold it in my hand and think Something like a kiss or the communion The bread becomes my gray brain But who is this bread what field of rain? What bird of wheat died for me?
And Maybe Shame Is The Answer. xxx Fantasia {for all the ashamed masturbating Children.} First is the play Then is the game Head of black & head of hay And then Life Become the same Full of pleasure Full of shame In the end death And tears unwept Fall from the eyes Maybe we are Karl And Gretchen and Our love Crăiasa zăpezii. Textmessage In the Night Hey kidd if you're just outhere in dark Not knowing what to do with you Nobody knows anything for you And why do you still bother be good You just sit by yourself and years pass By or you live your life in the collective Maybe you live in pain maybe you live In pleasure but just take it man, girl Even if god doesn't exist just do it Be your own god and sacrifice you Be Jesus for you just for you & eat Take a crumb of popcorn with soda And think to whatever you want but T/ way u won t b just meat capisci? Mind Hurricane
for Kubin Hurricane Carter, Books can change the world. I do not do - I do not do I wrote my life away - for you My God - my pain is not My brain - natural born soldier But you and them - I know slavery My mind hurricane is going to get You - this is what I believe I do not do - I do not do I do not do - I do not do I do not do - I do not do I do not do - I do not do I do not do - I do not do I do not do - I do not do I do not do - I do not do. Basics A life of basics is a beautiful life A Child's or Children life & smiles A life of few need and huge love Maybe you won't be successful Maybe you won't Dream and drive Maybe you will share onion soup With your ragged family but you Will love them and return to them Like the Jews - maybe you'll work In a factory all your life but maybe You'll make friends in the workers Those tired too sexy bereft women Who would teach you of women Wisdom - & instead of Rio: alms -.
The Tabloid. Viva el Pueblo! An American Prayer - One - Master of Puppets Welcome home (Sanitarium) - Leper Messiah Orion - The Battery - Fade to Black - Motorbreath - Seek and Destroy - The Four Horsemen – Sod Hit the Lights - The Unforgiven 1-2-3 - Nothing Else Matters - Until It Sleeps - Load - The Call of Ktulu For Whom the Bells Tolls - Damage Inc. - Reload The Memory Remains - My Friend of Misery - Ginc Mama I'm Coming Home - Soldier of Fortune - Gee Guerilla Radio - Sleep Now In the Fire - Karmapolice It’s only When I Lose Myself - Back in the USSR Imagine - Let It Be - Blackened - Don't Look Back In Anger - St. Anger - God Will Make A Way To Your Heart - He Holds the Whole World in His Hands - It. Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful.
d. Health Issues. 64 Poems Felix Rian Constantinescu 2017
To a Friend
Ye, Conqueror, sweet friend of youth And death - forbid me for betraying In life's passion but please do not Forsake your friend for fail in see
Who are you I will not say though known You are to anyman from sea to see & At my rebel pace I welcome in my bosom The mind the wit the beauty & love's wisdom
A lamer I am I cannot sing like the Moonfish And skylarks in t/ sea but you are my friend Ignored dismissed forgoten drove away With blows and prophetic anger but please -
Be my friend now and forever if I should Say your name but 'tis my silent prayer Make me your prayer nightly and of light When men afraid of light be you mine - my friend.
To My Mom Who Was a Teacher
for Frieda
The Earth is tired He has to get up early And work or kill The Earth is tired
Mother is tired She has to teach Or break her breasts Mother is tired
The night is tired She has to shut up Or fly into the skies The night is tired
I am tired I must write Or die I am tired.
Mothersong
for Miriam Makeba
My Mother could never Really sing - but she did My Father could never Publish - but he wrote
I had not any friends But I lied in wait My brother could not Open himself - but he loved
My kid brother was always Ununderstood - lost not hope My sister lived alone All her life - but she tried happiness
So Mother song dad's poems My friends' ignorance brothers' heart And hope my sister's happiness And you - are what I am.
The Informer
Never thought of himself as a bad man Said his prayers every night in those times But was afraid - yes not bad but afraid Of the killing machine driving around
In Dacias - so he spoke to be liked Not to be frowned upon - not to be Inefficient -- not to be trusted - a Candidate to exclusion - yes that
Was it - when every man drinks blood You must do it - socially - to be accepted At the Red Ball - to live your silent life Oh, Romania land of the vampyres
So today when we think that we're freed What is to be done with our parents? Should Hamlet kill Polonius and Everybody What should we do - let's all think about it.
SONG FROM TARTARUS
ISLANDS ARE TURNING CHILDREN ARE MOURNING ONE TEAR ONE SMEAR IN DARKNESS FEAR
RICH PREACH WITH PRIDE POORS TEARS CONFIDE THERE IS NO WAY
TO YESTERDAY
I'M GONNA DIE YOU RE GONNA CRY YOU RE GONNA DIE I'M GONNA CRY
WHERE THE LONELY GO THIS NO ONE KNOW MAYBE IN LIGHT MAYBE IN NIGHT.
POET LAUREATE
Me - something like Bruce Springsteen A symbol - a madman though - obsessed By bullying and pedophilia - poet laureate Nonetheless - I represend a message - a Meaning - something to be deciphered In long centuries and unbearable solitude Every man a loner - this could be the reason And spirit and the crown are friends - truth
Killed with kindness - a neverending pain Like the brain of Ludwig van Beethoven A sad man - an Arelquine and Colombine Sitting grave at the other end of the phone You could say I made it - but really what are Words without acts - forever loneliness Could be until better drugs - And now at this Blessed hour I have one request - love me.
It is Better to Be Good
It is better to be good - you Don't get into troubles and In time become a revered Man or Woman - a pious But more than that - it is An access for the better A way to Christian light A way of not hurting people People say that every Bad man is not pleased This may be true - I think
A way to happiness I not believe in happines But I believe in goodness The pained and maimed Good - hoping, loving.
THE FEDERATION
I am an honest poet What I remembered Star Wars, Star Trek Was the Federation You see - Celts & Germans - and war Is it really worth it? This you must answer This islands are like Husband and wife Together since the Separation of Mu Could it be my man An United States
Of the Celtic Islands? Like in t/ times of bear?
I Want to Be Your Jose Marti
I want to be your Jose Marti Tu unify the land - to speak To people - the move the Banker's heart towards the Beggar - and the Beggar's Aswell - to be someone In my community - to pray With the lightwaves To kill your brain with love To burn your heart with My words - to find a common Idiom - to communicate Kindness and selflessness To prove that the Queen Is willing to be a subject To save the lost and found.
EVEN JESUS WAS A CARPENTER
I c a n picture Jesus - he was a poor boy From a poor family - and nobody loved Him - except his Mother - he had to work Hard with his frail Child hands and help His Father used to say Jesus will you come Help me? - And he ran from the back of the House - to do his chores - and he was really A l o n e - like Michael in his glory - there Was really no time for too much school And thought - he resembles more Saint Francis than Saint Augustine - Martin Luther and Martin Luther King than the Great one - so at nineteen when I returned He left home - forever - a Rabbi rockstar? Joseph grunted at work - Mary thought And then came the Downfall & Resurrection.
I HOPE I BEEN A GOOD FATHER TO YOU
For Vlad
I hope I been a good Father to you Now I must go and I don't know but I look at you and what fine man you Have become - I mean you won't Hold my death against me - the dead Are my friends - and I think of old Things - I try to remember my birth But anyway now it's your time I am going now so that you and your Children can come after me - to a Better world - which is this no other Your life is very hard God knows it I - pray - that you will find not peace But battle - you must be your own Hitler and your own USSR - son Daughter - you are great - so begin.
BOOK ENTOMBED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY
Thoughts of Michael the Brave.
Loves at the distance do work? - I Discovered a well of poetry - a deep Fellowship - Maybe I'm a betrayer But I didn't want to be - I am true Blue - but here - like the Gypsy of Nălați that put the Union Jack above His door - and English poetry est my Patrie - I may be on another star - but Poems are not conditioned by space And I believe in you and you in me So here - here - it is England and Eire - here in the tomb of my Celtic Mother and my German Father - please Do not forsake me - the lowly book I am And bury me nest to Wilde and his Swallow Tell me you'll come & take my head.
I BEGAN WITH SYLVIA PLATH AND ANNE SEXTON ON SEVENTH GRADE
Everything I owe to them - women - life and
Blood and Poetry and English words - oh Dear when I was a kidd - thinking in Romanian But nevertheless each sunset found my eyes English is not a language is the sillogisms of The mind - a feminine logic - in which you don’t Have to love and laugh and leave - but pensively Remain in riddles and all the mind's fallacies I began with Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton on 7th grade - talking about insane Fathers & Abortions - and fell in love you might say - with The English poet - but not love but commentary If Hell's real poets maybe the ones elluding it By thinking and by writing and by fearing everything Now I m old but never will I forget the day when with Trembling hands I opened that Penguin Book and read.
Mommy
For President Vladimir Putin, on 9th of May, 2017.
So in the 50s people suffered Poets are beautiful
Jewish martyrdom? Teddy!
Sylvia's kids The woman Jesus The aborted little girl Rest in peace lover
Overcomed disaster Life is beautiful man Antigona Agripina
Daddy Mommy Frieda Sony.
LOST PARADISE
A quoi bon avoir quitter Coasta Boacii? Emil Cioran
I look back on the track of my life At the freedom years - when I was Young - like the dying Atreyu - oh My friends - away in the library
Of dreams - then everything was Pure - without compromise with Myself - another age of innocence Dead with Wet Wet Wet - now a vet
Insane - a prayer & a sinner - I can't Go back - to the other universe inside Me - ah, lost forever - like a godly Dream - but maybe in Death or
Alzheimer I will find myself - until
Then - I slay myself like Saint Felix - and speak unconscious Words - for the lonely and damned.
GOD DREAMS THAT ONE OF MY SONS WILL DIE
It's a sin.
Be glad satans - God wants to kill my unborn son And he will do it - if this is his wish - to kill a man Make him and snuff him out because - he is God So what - will I do? - really? - but isn't that death
Itself? - my son - my son should die today - and not Resurrect - I feel betrayed - lost - angry - mistreated Maybe I should die - maybe I should - and let the Jew God - that I will kill his son - but I am a man - I'm better
Than him - you - God - are a soul of ancient - cruel And high - the father of Semites and Assyrians - you Only you are God - but never show up at the meeting A lover and a killer - an infanticide - name me what please
But you are wrong - not I - you are he beast - the Holy Spirit Dragon - and in the end - when we ll all dead be You will live - remembering us all - in your miserable Ecstasy - so kill him - and kill me - and dare call us to you.
BAPTISTS
for Steve
I watch Baptists and wonder - are they really Better? - saved - like for instance a song? Are they pure or painted gray? - this is my Dilemma - and no one can answer this one Their sermons are lofty and ministers holy Their brain - the Baptist brain is a memo For the Bible - but is the Bible enough? - or
Are they - lying? - this is the second question No one dared answer - so we live thinking of Future holocausts - with our eyes on fire - and Wait - or live -- you might say is an error of doctrine Nothing more - the new man - the jesusman Maybe they put family beyond God - maybe they Are the modern Manicheans - but what a perfect Heresy - yes I watch Baptists - and makebelieve In ther lies - taboo stronger t/ t/ gospel - & no psys.
ON JOHN NEWTON
For Mohandas
I - am an outcast - of all my peoples But to my - dearest - I will speak On my twine legs today - no vision Comes before me - no grace - but In damned - no, human - logic - if Logic is to be cherished - there was a Man long ago - in Galilee - named by
John from New Town - well enough About him - I dare say he is the Father Of Grace - but is he really? - you can't Be a king and then just become an Emperor - no - you should subject yourself To slavery - your own - or other's - and so Live - you cannot live your life in peace Can you? - now maybe it's time to exit With a song - the song of the other - other.
MANSACRIFICE
Human sacrifice was not a particularly common occurrence among the Germanic peoples, being resorted to in exceptional situations arising from crises of an environmental (crop failure, drought, famine) or social (war) nature, often thought to derive at least in part from the failure of the king to establish and/or maintain prosperity and peace (รกrs ok friรฐar) in the lands entrusted to him.46 In later Scandinavian practice, human sacrifice appears to have become more institutionalised, and was repeated as part of a larger sacrifice on a periodic basis (according to Adam of Bremen every nine years).47 - Wikipedia.
In the holy cave the birdman stands on a tall stone He speaks to the people gathered like grains of Wheat or salt afer the dew of night - the Children Are asleep - the man speaks like Ginsberg - mad
His helpers informed him of the war in the West And the rebellions in the South and East - what Must be done? - who is guilty? - who is to blame? Punishment is needed - brotherly exclusion - words Need to cut and pierce - as phalic nails - the bad Brothers must be killed in spirit - and crushed To beg - friendship - or die - in the cold of the world God come down and be fire in my hand and be! We - the people - live - we - the faithful - pure We - the saved sinners -- mansacrifices must be made Now - and at every sermon - the torture of the good With words and emotions - Death - banish the imposters!
THOUGHTS ON A SERMON. A Christian Tragedy
Hey, Liberty... You don't respect me.
At the Old People Church I heard an illustration From The Golden Age - about a girl rebelled Against her family - a convert in the seventies Threatened by her Mother and Father with Exile forever and no money - so She goes on And did it - She got baptized - and the Christian Tragedy happened - Baptists got her a place
In Deva and kept her in Pedagogic and College As I remember now She's faraway in America - well If I'd ben Security captain - you can imagine how Many parents the Baptists threathened then - I Would have c a l l e d that pastor s boy to Securitate Highschool, then Securitate College and sent Him after studies to work with the Chinese in China Wouldn't that had been just? - the poor simple girl Breaking the heart of her Mother - for a stupid whim And I'm talking to you - what about - what about - you? Is this the Christian way - young lady - we know I Don't need to say more - wouldn't have been better To pray in silence - and then Pedagogic, and then College, and then America - but with your parents - and yes - and then heaven! - and I tell you today And yesterday my friend - what good is well without Your Mother - America without Mother - heaven Without your Mother's tears - of your damned sinful cursed left Mother - what value is in your Reverends who never were the friends of the People - like me and you were before the Dream Maybe you are not in America - but - you are not In heaven either - you are not in heaven either You are not in heaven either - you are not in
Heaven either - you are on the Limb of tragedy.
BIFRONS
Schyzophrenic - with half a brain immersed in history My Mother and brothers and Father - my friends Dead now - and the jazz of my young years - with Nora on my mind - or Diane - the future does not
Exist - is not r e a l - past is what we got - men and Machines - our eyes are recording cameras - of Good and bad - and our brains erasing heads - o Linda - you will be on top just fifty years - and then
Kaputt - yes history was my major - English just An appendix - a talent - like the tongue - what are You gonna do? - six feet under - dead or awake Hitting your head on the coffin - and all your kingly
Books - dead like yourself - where is Sylvia Plath
now? - Anne Sexton? - if I would be eternal - you'd Live in my memory - but I will die before my time Because I am Bifrons - t/ god of t/ past & pain years.
PUTREFACTION
When my Mother died I didn't let them bury her Until she began smelling - I hoped - and didn't Want them to put her in the tomb alive - like In the days of the Pharaos - and I sometimes
Think - how a man - alive for maybe fifty-sixty Years - in one instant begins decomposing I do not understand - what keeps our meat Together? - for me is not dying that bothers
Me - but the tomb scene - with worms and earth-rats - and everything - and those bones My bones - that will become - my face you know? And is useless to talk about heaven yet -
Soon enough - I will die - and nobody will write Here anymore - but I want to die - becoming Earth - soothes me - earth - wet or just dust And flowers - yeah I wanna be earth & flowers.
THE ESCAPE FROM SOLITUDE
There is only one escape from solitude Loneliness - angst - I have a cat which Always felt alone and asked me to Comfort her - Now She has three little
Ones - and She doesn t bother me Anymore - and not only that - She is Happy - just to sit there with her Children Cuddled in her - yes my cat escaped
From solitude - but what will I do - will I take her kids away - and make her
Alone again - and sadder - man Interferes too much in everyone’s
Life - I don’t want to be that man - so I m puzzled of my choices - I don’t Wan t to kill happiness - do you - really? -I Am so sad too now to t/ point of happiness.
PUNK AND PREJUDICE
Today on my way to the bookstore I asked Father to buy me a dark green jacket Resembling to the kinky jacket wore by Guevara in his picture - it was made in France - with a zipper - I took it to wear On rain at the embankment walks - and To remember that I have to survive & Because it was a rough version of Taylor Hillridge's own green jacket - just Walking out the second-hand boutique And three Gypsy young men started
Mocking me - and my shirt - and the beer I might or might not drink - then - after Leaving the bookstore for the car in the Park - on t/ street a woman - an ordinary Woman - looked at me passing & coughing.
HOSPITAL PEOPLE
My constant socializing is at the hospital So I began to see people less attractive Or cool - I see their withered faces and Cattle behaviour - because a serious Disease does not make you innocent Some are fighting to keep the line in Order - others to get ahead - there is Something of a gas chamber in this Survivalism - the doctors are either Compassionate or preocuppied - and Nurses too - the most I seen are satisfied Of just being healthy and having an easy Job - they do their work anyway - and many Pacients just stop coming - what is there
More to say - in the waiting hall I watch Out the window and read poems & faces.
RIF
1111111111111111111111111111 2222222222222222222222222222 3333333333333333333333333333 4444444444444444444444444444
4444444444444444444444444444 4444444444444444444444444444 4444444444444444444444444444 1111111111111111111111111111.
PEARL S. BUCK
I do not understand this Woman - She is Beyond genius - like an apostle - what a
Girl man - she was not a missionary So why living there? - She did not work For the Government - but was just a Man Living there - in the Chinese poor country She started life as a legend and became One - and what a name - presbyterian Ministers loving The Scarlet Letter - and the Divorce - yet not a sinner - so what was This Pearl? - a writer - writers are very Different - and aesthetically weird - her Tragedy - was that China betrayed her - Mao The new Confucius had no place for her In the new China - so she left - and lost herself And more tragically - lost sa patrie - forever Maybe the secret for Pearl S. Buck's passion Were the Chinese themselves - peasants And women - her l o v e - She had a way of not Looking at Asians weird - woman Hemingway?
A CINDERELLA
Always writing - never amount to nothing Like in the old times - Homer playing his
Blues before the shanty Sodom - nobody Minding about the old blind loon - and his
Epopee - a classic poet - no books - no Prizes - no friends - no taverns - just a Computer and his head - uncriticised Uneulogied - uninspiring - a dead man
For everybody - isolated in his country House - Nobody minding to reach him Manolescu - the Church - or the artists A - loser - yet he writes: obsessionate
Yet he is read - but in secret - no one Saying to him: good stuff - no one Clenching his upward fist for him Just a crazy writer & flowers tardive.
SCARDANELLI IN THE TOWER
for Emi, Ciste, Tinel and the Baptist Church.
Nobody visits now the tower - and distant relatives Want to take it and sell it - the tower was made for The poet - at his request - but as I said no one Visits the old and the mad - everybody has a better Life - The church is numbering - Christians and Money - the crazed poet is no use to any elder And a shame for the community - with his Scandalous Childhood and infamous adolescence Sermons given on the once loved streets name Him as bereft by God - abandoned by God - and Maybe he is - seems so nevertheless - Scardanelli Is in his tower house thinking of posterity - all still Left - friends & Church brothers are too filthy **** Rich - poetry is the only friend left - to hear his Thoughts - and answer him - so he writes - like Zekaraiah - and in the endless night only God worthy.
HOLYMAN'S BLUES
The holyman waits in church for the sheep To come - he will tell them important deep Words - about humbleness and power He waits in a gentle contrite mannerism
The holyman fell in _love_ with a friend Wants to help him - his help _is_ needed Has trouble at home for it - but it doesn't Matter - he will do it - damn it - and help
The holyman holds his acoustic guitar And sings with grace about the values Of the poor and Christian hobos - he Is a spirit - not an artist - & gospel is blue
The holyman works for his meat - like No one does - with his feeble strength And he's thankful - for bread in Inferno His name Sisyphus? - no much worse
Seems every holyman a Musketeer Like those Tom & Jerry mice - friends For a season or two - and then comes Harvest and the bum road separate
And the church comes silent - and the Friend comes silent - and the guitar Comes silent - and the poet comes Silent - & every holyman dreamchaser.
RAT BEHAVIOUR
It is not an irrational thought to believe At a moment or another you're watched Surveilled - I was mad today for my Condition of sexually abused victim & Children hospital regular visitor - and spoke On the phone about it - when - when I Finally arrived in the hospital a pacient Came and said he has a discomfort on
His leg that reaches his organ - and everything For Hyperpyron and Cry Freedom - Romania Is not the good country - instead rat behaviour Rules in it - and the security and policemen Have a way of mocking dissidents and deliquents Alike - well I will not rebel - I will not curse with The wrath of God - I will just say that Mr. Liviu Dragnea is the biggest rat of them all - rest follow.
THE WAR OF THE RATS WITH THE PIGS
There's a war going on - a war for the Garbage dumps - food - pigs represent Tradition - and their enemy - just in like The Nobel awarded Book of Nils - the rat Rats have no power of their own - only In big clans and large armies - they eat Everything - red blood and black **** They eat each other - with venom brains The pigs are humaner - they have a master They have a shepherd - they hold dear These values - and food and **** and urine
But they are gentle - and always smile with Their blue eyes and blonde hair - but in this war Man decides - to kill the poisoned rats - to Crush them under foot - because after all Only pigs are food - and man's second best friend.
MY JEWISH EAR-RINGS
for Rafael
At birth in Nineteen Eighty Two I received a pair of gold heart Ear-rings with a dark green-blue Stone in them - and all my life I looked at them - thinking I Should have been a girl - my Mother kept - and my Father For me in a round cilinder Of efervescent pink menthos As I said from time to time I took them and looked at them
Until one time - when I took the Ear-rings and put them above My brother's bed - he was In the foster Army - and when He left I cleaned the entire Room but did not found the Ear-rings gifted from Tel-Aviv Or Askelon - they were the ear -rings replacing the ones took At the Romanian border by the Soldier at her alya - bought at First arrival in Israel and then Given me as birth luck - instead I found on the shelf above the Bed where my brother slept For twenty years and those army Months - only his artillery Xs And I think - my birth ear-rings Were not stolen by my kid Brother, the wise-guy, not asked By my sister, not sold by Daddy But took by my old brother - my Best friend, for maybe some bottles Of vodka with his friends - my
Friends - and now I'm luck free And I think - if I trust him - he will Take all my possessions - my Books - my house - my land Me itself - for a drink with friends.
OPEN LETTER TO THE POET FLORIN IARU
Motto: Florin Iaru 12 mai la 01:14 · Altă dată, nebunii erau (vai nouă!) bătaia de joc a comunității. Acum, ajung să aibă păreri și adepți.
Florin Iaru Problema e că sînt liberi. Îmi placeVezi mai multe reacţii · 1 · 12 mai la 01:19 Florin Iaru, Facebook Account
I write in English because I seek clean Logical thinking - Latin could be also Good - and the first thing I want to ask You - you said you never heard before
Of Richard Wurmbrand - but have you Known - of Vasile Paraschiv - and the Likes of him? - you know it is easy to send People to prisons for decades or for life But at what price - the moral degradation Of a people - of yourself - and that woman Is right - you in your stalinism say: the problem 'S that We are let free - and She asks - for What should We be locked up: opinion Delict? - you, the Communists - I tell you Have done some great things the past Century - and - still - you don't repent Do you see the photo that I posted - poet Vasile Voiculescu? - I never read him much Yet - but he's a brother - true: for God And for unhypocrisy we died & lived abused Do you understand - that the Psychiatrical Gulag - never really truly ended in Romania Now we're trying to arrive to this bridge Now composition should ask an insult But I will only say that you are wrong And Che Guevara died for nothing For a dream - and we died and were Imprisoned for nothing & only faith kept us.
THE SAD GIANT
People say he's a Giant but he Don't see that - he's just a man On as mountain - holding the Gate to the horses - and he sobs Almost always - nobody befriends A Giant - no one l o v e s him There is no Wilpu in his story Nobody comes to his PăltiniČ™ To learn h i s wisdom - and he dies Barren - nobody desires pure truth Not mixed with money fortune & Power - only Night sits beside him The Night also is a Giant - as sad as Him - yea - some people are meant To be hard - and - maybe - God is A Giant too- sitting by himself - up.
NOBODY
I sit alone - like a fox in the desert The sun is red and the sky blood And I think that there are years Since I don't really trully mean Nothing - for my Father - and my Family - my friends - my churches My girl speaks to me in Algebra And nobody is decent to me Until that day of absolute decency My answer is this: nobody - don't Call - don't bother with me - with The bug that I am - until soon Ago you squashed me again and Again - and crushed me - now you Preach me the Earth is not for F Maybe it isn't - but truth or bust.
GETTING READY FOR DEATH
I don't see the purpose in living - the beauty
In it - death since always seems the sole Redemption - more than that - I do not Have a reason to live - so I - wait The day - not my entombment - I am not Theatrical - but for the second when I will be beyond - wherever - just away From all this losers - I do not see a Meaning in my life - one could say Poetry - but I'm a poete maudit - poems Are pain for me and nothing more - no One ever cared for my poetry but Ever since the beginning I have been Stoned for my poetry and poems - so **** the world - I don't care - why help If help is not really needed - cherished? Really - only God keeps me from suicide But know that one day I will die -and Dead - I will win - so Death is a friend T/ only friend I got - so count your money.
I BELIEVED IN MAN
I - believed in man But no man worthy Except dad I think Everyman a loser Emmanuel comes Eminem - the Stranger Florin Salam - the Pilgrim all alone Mikee excuses himself Desperately - & the Faithful are creeps Money is everything I'm sorry - I lost time In the Church - my Time & innocent heart - I can't take back.
GIVE ME LOVE OR GIVE ME DEATH
Love or Death - yea - this is the issue Of the Church - society -and of us - yes I - differently to most people - have a
Soul - on which I act - and which I try To keep intact - I cannot prostitute myself But know my love - that on this lost way I will die - and only you will be to blame When dead I ll be and lost forever for The people of the saved - and know that I - can - die - so - if I'm no good & unworthy Unclean - demonic - whatever - slowly I Will go - it is your choice - between - not Jesus - but Money and - Felix - so yea Go ahead and tell me what your flaws Are - but even if I'm dead I pray - I - pray That you - Man/ Woman will cherish the Next Albatross you'll meet - because what Is in man - except his will to give up Except one time - you Heaven - are cool But it's just this people - of uncircumcised.
BUENOS AIRES
On Earth there are nexuses of poetry and Argentina is One of them.
I don't wanna remake the Future Sound of London - or the Spirit of Praga - or St. Louis - or whatever I just want to say that - on the Otherside - there's a kingdom And a city - full with sensucht People that walk in the night Begging for words - like me A city of poets - and generals Good and bad in one legendary Latinamerican Tel-Aviv - hungry For books - like the world for sex Or food - haunting people on the Streets - or alone and blind in Small rooms - still - writing in T/ quiet mind - what's wrong w/ them?
WAR VICTIMS
You should have bombed Hitler - then, not my pregnant Grannie.
„Caracteristica cea mai iritantă a clasei noastre politice este suficienţa. Te miri ce ingineraş mediocru, ce activistă răscoaptă, cu aere de mătuşică grijulie, ce jurist semidoct se pronunţă, întrebaţi sau nu, pe orice temă, cu o siguranţă de sine paranoiacă. Ţanţoşi, obraznici, guralivi, agresivi, prost crescuţi, „angajaţi” partinic pînă la desfigurare, ei apar des, dacă nu zilnic, mai ales la posturi de televiziune bine plătite şi bine plătitoare, ca nişte corifei ai înţelepciunii, ai patriotismului, ai adevărului absolut. Ei ştiu! N-au dubii, ezitări, întrebări. Au doar răspunsuri. Sunt providenţiali! Şi dacă îi contrazici, te iau tare. Şterg cu tine pe jos, fac mişto, te învaţă **** e cu patria, cu trădătorii, cu sorosistii, cu inteligenţa. Nu contează că arată a plutonieri reciclaţi, a „fete bune” miloase (mai ales cu cîinii şi cu oamenii străzii), a gospodine cînd nevricoase, cînd duioase, a caftangii ideologici. Se simt bine în pielea lor, în afacerile lor, în conturile şi în vilele lor cochete. Prin inflaţia discursului, mulţi dintre ei sunt deja vedete.” Andrei Pleșu
GI family - no medals - no help - no compassion We go way up in World War Two in Bucharest Nobody ever cared - we pain, you freedom Everyday a WW2 - and we American victims BTW - once in his military service dad threw His rifle and effects to the ground for a Bad gas-mask - I don't know but I believe The army - every army should be glad For not taking me in - we did and do our Own army - and the only chance for Peace we got - is the cemetery - I Did not come here to blame peoples
I wrote books - long hard thick books & no one is interested - not the public Not the state - no the Churches - not The Army - not God's Army: - war victims But America - I am not mad - because of Bruce Springsteen - and Walt Whitman And Emily Dickinson - I'm not mad - I'm Not mad - not mad - not mad - I'm not mad.
RADU GYR. WE WERE: VICTIMS
for poet and writer Ruxandra Cesereanu.
Prison ends - but life after prison only in death And the fear of friends - I know - angels under The beast - we vere: victims - like every true Christian - and only in death we found Freedom Still human in rats society - rejected by the common Man - and it s useless to look for reasons - Man's Psyche is dark mad - so reptilians will get up of the Swamps of the countries again and again - and viciously Kill - the right to deposess - of worth and life - of time
Communism was the newest excuse for Csarism to Run amok on the planet - the power of drunkards And idiots - a titanomachie contemporary - with pure Heroes and insane Nabukudusurrulurs - what's more To say - we were victims - the men and women and Children Romania wishes forget - like every criminal Impossible dream - forever - forever our blood on you.
NUMQUAM FIDA
Never trustworthy - ah, Latin curse - always Choosing red wine instead of pure water We - the traitors and dogs of the world Pray - in our law and language - for good
In our damned hearts - the souls of the Killers that we are - of God and mankind We - not the Romans no - but the lostBreeds - the Dacians in Armani suits
Always going for silver - always speaking Treachery - always drunk - always with Our knife on the table - we pray - for a Better self - for a day of trustworthfulness
Between us and the world - between us And God - if there is any for us - a God Pierced by tradition and our cruelty and Ignorance on every mountain stone & cent. e. {2 poems} I Hope I Been a Good Father to You for Vlad I hope I been a good Father to you Now I must go and I don't know but I look at you and what fine man you Have become - I mean you won't Hold my death against me - the dead Are my friends - and I think of old Things - I try to remember my birth But anyway now it's your time I am going now so that you and your Children can come after me - to a Better world - which is this no other Your life is very hard God knows it I - pray - that you will find not peace But battle - you must be your own Hitler and your own USSR - son Daughter - you are great - so begin.
To Shantideva... A Meditation Eat sleep squat eat sleep squat Eat sleep squat eat sleep squat Eat sleep squat eat sleep squat Eat sleep squat eat sleep squat Eat sleep squat eat sleep squat Eat sleep squat eat sleep squat. f. Old Poems The Skylark
Winter is an organ fading-out we seem to hear the bells of spring the air is cool and warm and fragrant we need something more we need a song other than the howling of the dogs and the laughter of men we need a skylark A Shaman’s Prayer To all who will prey evil on me May G-d protect me and the Bad’s evil return on them I shall be free of them forever To all who pray me goodness the goodness return on to their souls I am their slave and May G-d protect the Prayers Cassandra Singing
The ones who love shall be loved The ones who love shall be loved The ones who burn shall be burned
The ones who burn shall be burned The ones who love shall be loved The ones who love shall be loved The ones who burn shall be burned The ones who burn shall be burned Distich
my heart is a grennade of radium do you wanna try it? If I were a Girl
If I were a girl even just for a day I'd be a girl Morning Felix Rian
Light pierces through the big trees pierces our eyes with truth like the cherubim on branches nothing moves except the wind and the birds just fly up and down the stairs the blessedness of light even if you were blind you can still see G. To Night (translated from Romanian)
What are you night silent beside me
a naiad, pixy, goddess or a woman? what are you night with your eyes of stars? who gave you a name who made you beautiful day darkened full of locks what are you night please tell me and tell me do you know I love you? ++ The Amazon is a big green damp anaconda Sin I did this Winter
I did a bad thing man I did a bad thing I went to the shore and played the humback whales a couple of times and all the birds went silent after two days all birds were gone only the lazy ones remained bad thing man I hope the humpback whales saved them ## The earth turns to the East The Gift
Every poet is a lonely creature running through the wildernessess every poet is lonely when the angels greet him and the stars are seven and centuries pass by like a road in the mountain loneliness is the gift of the poet
H. Addenda… LOVING SOLOMON
"Tu ma faci sa zbor" DJ Project “Vă rog fierbinte, fiice ale Ierusalimului, dacă găsiţi pe preaiubitul meu, ce-i veţi spune? Că sunt bolnavă de dragoste.” Song of Solomon
Teach me to Love Teach me to love teach me what I never learnt I just couldn’t or just wasn’t paying attention or Just hadn’t met you like Joseph before he met Mary You can pass by and fill my soul with your smile Your love calls for mine like devotion calls tears Love I never had or love I ever knew I could have Make me learn what God wants me to learn My beautiful and wise love my Solomon you are
1
beautiful as a temple a pilgrim can never forget you are the dream the beloved and empress of me you are my mecca and medina, my jerusalem I’m your djafar humbly bowing and adoring you a soul of esmerald smiling a brook of myrrh we are 2 rivers walking together and becoming 1 2 stars rushing into each other giving birth to a 3rd and you are the regret of the holy to my loneliness before you i am cinderella loving solomon you’re the stained-glass madonna in my heart the first and the last and the only one my prayer to god is to say you i love you
2 love is the force beyond the incomprehensibility of beauty attracting lovers to each other like lovesick stars silent and question filled gauguin meditation the forest washes her hair in the stream of the sky and words are images in which we see our souls the hart and deer are pensive drinking from their own reflections when i think of you i remember all this meaning and i’m an in love albatross in his warm world of ice i am in love with you and my heart is a lit menora god gave me this love to me to give you my heart is a lily in my eyes fed by my tears
weeping unites pain and happines in me into love
3 reflected in your eyes even the sky is a lighter heart with his kind angels and pilgrim clouds in your melodic gaze the morning sparkles beautiful as a madonna sculpted in light and in my silent moments love makes me pray love is a song i’m learning as i think of you my heart is an unknown wet flower opening in the wind and in the field I confess my love to the flowers to the lilies who tell me that you are their queen beloved caliph dressed in the gold of consecrated garments i love your fragrances and your smile makes me drunk graceful you are and holy and sacred is your love
4 while waiting for meeting you somewhere in the world a life has passed like a story forever collected in a book and now I just wait to tell you i love you just a cricket in love with a pensive amethist flower a pilgrim for you and beauty walking toward a Mecca of the heart toward one thing no one understands but even unwillingly worships but you sweetheart me ten fold like a woman of marble and grace like the dewed rose's endeared by the Romantic bug of the sun the sky sings to me the same shy song of the stars I am alone but the truth of a poet is no less true and our hands are held together in the hand of God my life is but a dream beatifically enslaved by your love
5 god calls you to see inside your love like in an ancient book to look at your soul as you would the southern cross you were not made for loneliness pleasing friend your soul is a lover's mirror but would you believe? love needs you my friend and someone else needs you too there is someone who wishes you tenderness you are alone but know that you are alone no more all because love is the algebra of life
a silent singer you are putting the sun to sleep the light is your teacher walking with you in the dust you are in love now and you're her soul's friend loving the soul that imperially loves you
6 before you i’m speechless like abu nuwas before a desert lily i give you this map of my heart you have concquered i’m in love i’m in love desperately in love with you my love is a river sounding in me the herds and sheperd drink from and an entire talmud could be written concerning your beauty a consecrated sufi i am lost in the contemplation of you you are more beautiful than a white swan or a statue of marble my lady of grace loving with the heart of mary please come in my heart and let me come in yours i am your Huck Finn loving you with the unlearnt love of a boy at night when i look up i see your face in the stars but love is saudade and sensucht dor and heartbreak
7 we’re god’s world but of love we know not world is a song with author unknown if grief lies in everything then happiness lies in nothing verily it is true that love makes the heart the soul we all seek for is an anointed stone if man is a temple it’s only because of love i seek to love all but it’s true that you are my love no other woman can i love and it’s so true i wish to say my prayers with your hands in mine say to god i love you and to you’re his love grace is for the humble and love for devout god wrote you in my heart so i can’t resist you
8 i invite you to my heart where my love waits this hanwritten book I found in me inked with unknown letters
the thing that for millennia man wonders what is love deeper than the jazz forgiving as the forgiving ones the power to love is the secret of world’s beauty love is the soul of man everything that man has my love is my treasure and my treasure you are you are my love descended from beyond more beautiful than the loving moon and brighter than her i invite you to the flowers and the ornamental writing of the jordan the mountain wants to be your friend waiting for your smile god made forever and man called it love
9 we cannot love but once and only one this how man was made in likeness of one god and you love me as no one ever did and what i pray for is your one true love god gave life to me just to learn to love truth is love more important than man's oneself i'm baptized in your love as in an endless sea you are my true love and your love gives me life a walk in the world makes me see love is a prophet i lose myself in love but love finds me again you were made to love and i was made to love you so this is what i say my love i love you more than life
10 love is the true power of man and god justly living makes love immanent and heartbreak brings god down humbleness is the porter of every good thing god made woman last most beautiful than everything there is you are a book written by god in ink and stained-glass and your gaze a woman's tenderness embracing my face god is in love with you you're his masterpiece he made you to break my heart with endless love towards the splashing brook of the sunrays every skylark sings i too sing as a lovebird in the light of your glowing face you bring the day wherever you go like Jesus your brother the one who made me love you without telling me why 2012