***
I'm stuck with my wings
under the sun
No wind seems strong enough 
to make me fly
No storm at the horizon.


***
And as you grow
You have to listen to the grown ups
Who claim to have got it right.

Listening becomes your best skill
Until the day there's no one to listen to,
On that day you can'y even sigh,
As your voice is gone into their grave.



***
I can hear a suitcase:
New thoughts are coming to town.

Guts

How dare you green against the stone? 

How dare you flower against the snow? 

How dare you walk against the flow? 

How dare you speak, 

how dare you know?

 ***

Those places miss my soles,

My soul misses those places.

  I’m wandering and wondering,

Emigration

Is a never-ending

Hesitation.

All Saints

Before you reach God,

all saints will have dealt with you.

Before you reach the saints 

Civil servants will have driven you

Out of your mind.

Before you get to them

The charity people would have measured 

Your virtue against theirs.

By the time you reach God

You will have been everyone else's feast.

God is alone

Yet he can make no mistake

At all.

Maggie

When shall I die, she wondered.

And instantly she knew

It had to be on a Monday morning.

Let everyone get bored

Over the weekend

And still have

Something to talk about

Over the Monday morning coffee.

Let them decide, let them change

Their mind

About what sort of funeral

Should there be

When it

Comes to me.

Give them time to hate me

Let them sing against me

Let them get me into the charts.

Let me stay there 

Till I'm on top

And then I can be buried.

That’s what I call democracy.

42

I passed a log leaning against a wall.

Swollen by time,

Drift apart from its vanished fence,

King of no kingdom.

42, it was written

On its shrivelled wood.

You can’t be only 42, I thought.

You are too serene and beautiful for that.

Of Poets

Occasionally,

I fall in love

With a poet

I look him up

In poet’s corners

Take him home

And read 'im

Inside out.

After a while,

I put him on a shelf.

And another poet comes about.

Poets don’t mind being put aside,

As long as they are left in good company.

Happy Birthday

For you’re a jolly good fellow

I wrapped your gift in yellow

But because I don't want you be sad

I wrapped it again. In red.

Because you’re so out of sight

I thought I should wrap it in white.

But because when I see you I wink

I wrapped it again; in pink.

Finally, I wrapped it in blue.

Because you’re too good to be true.
'Cause I'm still in luv with you.

It's All about A Tricycle in the End

Retirement is still my dream
That age when no one has any expectation from you
That time when you can do everything you like
And I will.
Including riding a tricycle in this town.

 If I gave it a title, it would be longer than the poem

Infinity protested:

Eight.

Burden

I walk ahead of me.

Behind, my shadow

Made of unfulfilled dreams

Limps.

Monday Morning

I wake up and 
take a look at the world:
Bea has got engaged,

Paul is halfway through his readings

Michael has published an article

And another war is on the verge of breaking

While I haven’t even finished my coffee.

Close

Close

Close

Shut down.

Force shut down.

I can now live

My own life.

Innocent Question

What would you feel like

Being a letter

Omitted by all sorts of illiterates

Or being inserted by mistake

In places where you don’t belong

Or being used in the composition

Of words you dislike

All you can wish for sometimes

Is not to know
who surrounds you.

*** 

To know the time

No watch is needed

As no watch will tell you

When to be silent

Or when to speak,

when to leave…

and when to give…

how long you are to wait

Before you receive.

It Is This Place

               to Oxford

It is this place
Where people lose things
All sorts of things:

gloves, umbrellas, socks and pillows
Ear-rings and engagement rings,
Where so many people lose their minds
to its beauty.
(It is only lost books I haven't come across).
It is this place where pencils seem to grow
Off the ground
As if they're thrown out by the buried
To continue their idea.

It is this place... 
Which smells like croissant

On a Saturday morning

And beer on a Saturday night

And then nothing...

No noise, no scent.

Only church bells

And letters... and signs...

And science...

Silent science.

s-N-O-w

It’s snowing.

Everyone panics.

Everyone apart

From the daffodils

And the queen.

They treat snow

With silence

And due respect.

Everyone apart from

The daffodils, the queen and the children.

Children love it!

They can finally make big people

Who listen to them!

Prevent Cold

Chicken soup

Brazil nuts

Sleep

Gentle  exercise

Garlic

Stay warm

Vitamins

Hot bath,

If none of these work,

Just die.

Cut the root

Of all these evil viruses.

January

January is a 30 day long Monday
When you don't feel like doing what you ought to
When Santa Clause no longer exists;
or he's just a deaf old man at his best
And you feel fooled by your own beliefs
that the year was going to be new
when in fact it is only your old life
that expects you,
Full of unfinished business.

IaNUarie 

Ianuarie e-o luuunga zi de luni

In care n-ai chef sa faci ce trebuie

Mos Craciun nu mai exista; e cel mult un mos surd

Iar tu stai ca un fraier si gandesti

ca degeaba ai crezut ca anu-i nou

Cand te asteapta vechea ta viata

Plina de treburi

Vesnic neterminate

Sometimes I feel

Like a door in the open:

No walls around,

No purpose at all.

A presence that is obvious

Without making

Any difference

Just being.

You still remembered me for a while

But later the absence grew like a whale

Which swallowed our memories.

It Rained

***

Living in another world

Reverses the day with the night

The old dream became reality

The old reality turned into dream.

Haiku

The plane crashed.

That’s life...

Being stupid

Being stupid is so easy

All you have to do is

To speak as you think

Not think as you speak

Write what you say

Publish anyway.

Nothing to do with Stonehenge

Life was here before death.

So, flowers and people were there

before rocks and pebbles.

Then something happened
And their dignity
was crushed into stones.

All of a sudden, the world

Was full of them.

Some flowers and people continued to live

But no dignity was left inside.

Since then, all people dare

In terms of dignity

Is some small stones

Hidden in their kidneys.

About time

She had a yellow-green watch

Like a highlighter

Not to forget about

The finity of life.

(Inspired by Swatch - Colourful Watches :):):)

Keep the distance

Keep the sanctity of the places you love

Keep a little distance, a little mystery,

Keep a little bit of fear

When you walk on their roads.

Keep the sanctity of the people you love

Don’t aim to know them too well

Keep a little bit of distance,

A little bit of mystery,

A little bit of fear.

Keep a little bit of mystery yourself,

A little bit of distance to yourself

Let air flow mildly through all these spaces

As it is that air of sanctity

That will make you fly,

Keeping all you love, alive.

Freedom

Freedom has no roots

It comes and grabs people

Just like wind 

It makes people fly

It makes people think.

Children

Children grow

And leave behind

Innocent mistakes

Only to replace them

With bigger ones

They leave behind

Unwise parents

Only to replace them

With elderly ones

Who knew too late.

They quickly learn

How to repeat

their parents’ mistakes

They do it naturally,

To taste the beauty of life

Which is only the end

Of a long way.

A Thought

I think he thinks of me.

I hope he thinks.

I think he thinks.

I hope he thinks of me.

Just Mum

My mum has never been jogging

She’s  never opened the books I go through

But somehow she always knew

Much better than I do.

Dirty Hands

A banker’s hands are never dirty.

His mind is.

A lawyer’s hands are always clean,

Too often unlike his heart.

Do not forget

That dirty hands

 Sometimes get dirty

Only to keep

 The mind and the inside clean.

Here I am

Here I am

Standing on the threshold

Between who I am

And who they think I am

I won't leave

For I am the door

With my two faces:

One stares at the world

The other always stays in.

Thoughts by the Sea

Water, like death

Its desire to fill in

Every space.

Its attempt to embrace,

to equalize everything

with its waves.

Always trying

Always failing.

(Just like communism).

Time

Time rusts our bones

As it rusts our past

Age, invisible shield

Weaving us into lonely islands

The further we walk

The lonelier we get

And that has never been a secret

No matter how well

We are welded

To each other.

There is a day

When all the silence

Comes into our  way.

Of Wine

Wine makes people dare

What they otherwise care

It makes people kind

If they do not over-estimate

The limit of their mind

When offered a glass,

Never make a fuss

As just a bit of wine

Can make you shine

It can make you feel free

Or it can make you see

That your life, like mine

Always hides something fine

So, cheers to the root of vine.

Leaving Bucharest

Cand timpul se chirceste

Spatiul se dilata

Orasul meu in care altminteri

Ma tot intalneam cu cate cineva

Pare acum pustiu de prieteni,

Privirea mea nu mai da de a ta.

Ma-nvart in gol, nimeni nu-mi mai e cunoscut

Prietenii mei au plecat in tarile mai putin calde

Ce-au avut de pierdut, au pierdut.

Just Signs

Never open your umbrella indoors

It’s a bad sign, it means you've not fixed your roof.

Never read in the bathroom, it’s a bad sign,

It means you have no other quite place in the house.

It’s a good sign when you meet the priest

It may mean you got rid of all your troubles.

It’s a bad sign when you meet the doc

It may mean your troubles only start.

Lighting a cigarette is always a bad sign

It means you’ll be kicked out from everywhere.

One never knows

One can never tell

How many we are

Around the table

There is always

An extra shadow

Or an extra eye

Or an extra ear

You will never know

For sure

Where from

all your trouble

Has sprung.

Sadness

No trains pass nowadays

Through the railway station.

Those that had to pass

Already passed.

Children are drawing

With their colored chalks

On the railways.

Not even rain passes through that station

Anymore.

Prin gara nu mai trece niciun tren

Ce a fost de trecut a trecut.

Acum copiii deseneaza

Cu creta pe sine.

Nici macar ploaia nu mai trece prin gara.

The Good, the Bad and That’s It

In this house

A good man and a bad man are lodging

You can’t tell who’s who

It depends when

You knock at the door.

***

When a plane will crash

True business people

Will die at business class.

***

Fatigue is cutting my fingers

And then my bloody fingers

Are shattering the dreams

Caught in my hair

And then my hair drops...

Slowly, red and silent.

Men are like planes

                   In answer to Wendy Cope’s „Men are like buses”

 Men are like planes!

Easy to miss and hard to flee...

Have no connection to ground reality

Last minute choices are often expensive

However, it is useless to become defensive

When asked, you must keep your upright position

And that, without any opposition

Sometimes you are allowed to lean

But that is only in between.

They give you meals which are apparently free

In fact you pay for every crumb that falls on your knee

But then they might drop you off unexpectedly.

What I’m not

I’m not a one way woman

I might change my mind

When life becomes unkind

And that’s just the way I’m woven

Not a whim or a fact that was proven.

Babe, don’t take me for granted

And expect me to stay

Cause this just isn’t my way

When days turn to be boring

And nights just full of snoring

Babe, I might just go away

I might even say no

To things that I wished long ago

When life is getting late

All you can do is contemplate fate

So, babe, let me not stay in your way.

Ploua...

Nu se vede dar ploua

Mortii plang

In fiecare noapte,

Roua.

Rain

One can’t  see

But it rains

Every night

The dead cry.

Their tears

Fall up.

Dew.

Mess

Mary, Mary, You’re no longer my Mary

You turned round like a berry

You’re two in one, I’m one in two

What a mess, I still love you! 

People 

People are mere stories

That stay beyond death

On other people’s lips

They finally don’t care

The others never had.

Wild Weed

Love grows against the law

It grows against the mind

Love’s just a weed that grows wild.

It is a scent that doesn’t cost a cent

Calling it free is a silly mistake.

Sum Up

Those fresh wounds have grown pretty old

The salty tears have gone dry

Even the scar’s no longer a tattoo

When life became as short as a haiku.

Once and Not Only

Once upon a time
I thought you were divine.

Once upon a wine
You hugged me as a rhyme.

Once upon a dream
Our love turned into sin.

Once upon a past
I slowly lost my trust.

Once in a while
I miss our life-style.

Once upon tomorrow
There might be sorrow.

But once upon a future
Love will be the nurture.

In the Air

My thoughts fly in the air and I follow them

Ideas blossom

But then the plane lands

And my feet walk in depression

Never catching

And never forgetting.

Travelling Light

(Billie would know what to do with this)

I’m travelling light

Since I’ve  left you behind

But I’m travelling blue

‘Cause I’m still in luv with you

Sometimes I travel pink

When I don’t need a thing

At times I travel green

‘Cause I feel life’s beam

Other times I travel yellow

For you to think I’m mellow

But mostly I travel grey

‘Cause you’re not

On my way.


Litmus test
Tango lesson, Ball Room at Café Amsterdam

"Have patience with each other!"...

"When the man crosses the line, the woman readjusts the couple and takes 
the lead"...

"The man needs to feel and control the woman's core, gentlemen. If you 
control your woman, then you have no problem..."

These are words one would expect to hear during a couples' therapy session. 
But do not be fooled! They are taken from the "Tango Lesson". No, not Sally 
Potter's lesson, but Alina and Catalin's, a woman and a man who exude 
beauty and well-being for three hours straight while they teach the moves 
and spirit of Argentinean tango. The tango re-teaches you how to walk, only 
this time it's about the "walk by a woman's side!", is what Catalin 
believes.

If you've never danced tango in your life, you might think it's just a 
dance. But the tango brings together a woman and a man not only as two 
bodies, but as two attitudes, where the two match or not without spoken 
words, and where distance is pure sensuality.

It is a game of pride where the woman trustingly leans over the man's chest 
and follows his steps. Docile but full of dignity, all at once. The tango 
reveals a couple's complete philosophy, including the hidden meanings it 
entails and the tricks that make it work; those who can detect it will 
enjoy a full spectacle while watching two people tango.

If you want to find out what hides inside a woman, if you want to be around 
her for more than just a simple distraction, invite her to tango. You can 
forget what she told you over coffee. The tango brings out the truth moreso 
than a good bottle of wine. And it reveals her colors more so than a litmus 
test.

The tango might as well be the key to the chaos of today's relationships, 
but people stay away from it. It either seems old fashioned or it brings 
out insecurities. Men don't want to bother leading their women with force 
and tenderness, and the women move messily in all directions without even 
thinking to be led. In tango, the woman makes no mistakes. Faulty moves are 
>never her mistakes, but the man's... who couldn't properly lead!

So ladies, after many years of gender equality, don't you miss being led 
from time to time? And you, gentlemen, admit that it'll do you some good to 
tame the wonderful shrews who dance around you in brownian steps.
Remember, however, that in tango however, women can never be wrong in their movement.