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Flying in that silver world
poezie [ ]
the seventh poem for Shiraz

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
de [Alma ]

2018-10-10  | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english]    | 



men are weird
one used to talked about s.x and other stuff like that
other about fake wisdom and other stuff like that
another one about sky constellations and speed of light
and all this seemed to me like a fake orgas.m
like a pseudo love
like our times divided into rouleaux and thrown over head
as they did when my grandfather died and everyone used to throw small coins
hell knows what they looked like silver in the summer sunlight
sometimes I'd start to laugh, how to talk with a woman about s.x and other stuff like that
men are useful, we were to laugh
I used to laugh when my grandfather died, in fact afterwards
there was a hot summer day and people lit candles
the summer sun would have been enough
people lighted up new candles, we laughed
we were sitting in that blue room and laughing
rollled on the floor in that bluish room
we were too young to laugh alone
now too lonely to laugh again

men are weird, so I've started to believe in aliens
I've had a small orange ball taken from a pet shop
it was an orange world a small 'g' a kind of k-pax in my pockets
I have imagined how the angel was coming in taking that orange ball
spinning it and other angel-like stuffs
then how that three-year-old boy in Africa no longer carried water
and that little baby girl in karachi was no longer stoned
and how they all were living into my world painted in orange
my little prince
my little princess
and somewhere an useless eden in background
and the Snake swallowed by the Elephant

people are weird
every night at 3 and five minutes a bird spreads out the wings next to my windows
above it is the sky with the same cluster of stars
what's the point of knowing their names
somewhere is my grandfather I've just talked about
somewhere closer, our first dog, then my dad then all of us
and all baby girls stoned somewhere in another part of the world
and all women stoned somewhere in another part of the world
maybe you think about same issues and other stuff like that
while you were taking one moment of your hours and sending it to me
while the birds were guarding the worlds just near the windows of our rooms
while the night birds were flying

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