Dear Vachel,  Let the Bread's Rhyme



I am longing for disturbing evening

Miserable floating in regardless owl weeping

Lost boy with lost path

Dying in the hands of wrath


I am longing for Your existance

But no one comes over

Except you the lost one like me

You're not Imogen

The one I need most.


Et ego petrarca in lingua vetera scribo

Selected Poems 1999 - 2002


Thursday, October 09, 2008

Ode To The Dead Poets

Part I


We all reborn

As devil's clown

Inside devil's den

Far from His Hands


Our Messenger arrives in nine-fold

Still your ears tempted by gold

"Ab imo pecture..."

For sake of the truth, let's find the cure.


My stand as individual

Is to watch life in manual

To avoid misunderstanding

For a time being.


(2002)

di

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Amazing Works

Romance

Romance, who loves to nod and sing
With drowsy head and folded wing
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say,
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings,
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things—
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.

- Edgar Allan Poe

Friend Surrounding