Daca as sti unde am auzit asta...

Ma-njur, imi tot vorbesc de moaste
intr-un colocvial cosciug
legand cuvintele ca broaste
mai multe pe un singur rand.

Cum de-am ajuns calaul
primului zambet de razboi,
sa te descant cu raul, tot mai raul
Si sa te-afund in spaime-apoi?

Un astfel de curaj

Sa nu stii ce te-asteapta

pe malul celalalt -

nu poate fi nimic mai terifiant.

Sa nu stii cine-ti mana caii

sau cine-ti vasleste barca.

Cine abia asteapta 

sa te pocneasca-n fata

sau sa-ti taie limba.

Poti sa fii un prost, un geniu,

poti sa fii un bataus,

poti sa fii alcoolic

sau drogat.

In fata intuneriului perfect

nu mai rade nimeni.

Caci toti stim, dar nu vrem sa recunoastem -

nu exista moarte onorabila.

Akua Naru - Poetry: How does it feel now?

if love had a sound, this would be that sound. love. love, we would be the band to play it. my ghetto butterfly flew away from me, i wait patiently. by windows and doorsteps, play make believe as my tears pour to my chest. won't succeed to breathe if not the hear of you. surely there hasn't never been a shade so blue. a stank attitude, so not mad at you. not a magnitude to encompass the latitude of my love for you. no space or time compatible. what do i have to do. what do i have to do. my friends say i got it bad for you. i do. but there's nothing in this world i would rather do, but you. 

hey, i want to make love to your existence. drenched in the colors of your energy, then masturbate to the memories. i wanna lose myself inside yourself. until you find me, confine me, to the freedom, of your prison. exist in the same space, same time. combine. until your thoughts slow grind with mine.combine. until your thoughts slow grind with mine. combine. until your thoughts slow grind with mine.

my, i want to drink the sweat off your intellect. reflect, and watch your light passion off my neck. caress the sight of your presence with no question. undress, to the nakedness of love, pure love. i want to make love to my soul mate. my soul mate. make love to my soul mate. my soul mate. make love to my soul mate. shit.

i wonder how does it feel to make love to your soul mate. kind of like writing poetry till climax. till the point and place where our space and time match, and we, cross divine paths. tell me would you like that. how would like that. tell me would you like that. now would you like that. tell me would you like that. would you like that. tell me.

i wanna love you more than madly. wrap these legs, around your words. until your speech is straddled deep, gladly. swim the currents of your vibrations. be separate and one. with the same meditation. with the same meditation. this is poetry.

Introverti

In noptile ploioase de vara

varcolacii ies sa-si spele blana

de pacatele vanatoarei

si dorinta.

Se plimba-n haite sau solitari

fredonand la luna plina

melodii pe care 

le-am crezut uitate.

Pasul lor se ineaca in 

balti de femei usoare

cucerite de costumele Armani

si trandafirii infloriti din piept.

Nu e nimic mai viu sau mai mort

in peisajul asta.

E absolut hipnotizant.

Iar eu mi-am deschis jaluzelele 

ca sa imi inchid sufletul.

Tu doar inchide-te in mine.

Eu n-am nevoie de rima, ritm sau chitara

caci daca te uiti atent in ochii mei

am pasiunea si irelevanta necesara.

Mi-am scrijelit brutal pe inima

sentimentul care-ti poarta numele,

caci vreau sa cicatrizez momente

si sa infloresc gradinile cu amintiri

printre care-ai sa te plimbi.

Si daca-s egoista 

ca vreau sa te tin inchis in colivie,

cu grija amplasat intre inima si plaman

atunci, asa sa fie!

Si daca esti nebun 

sa refuzi tot ce-ti ofer -tot ce e-n mine-

eu iti voi da in plus

si flori, si muzica, si poezie.

Eu sunt facuta ca sa te iubesc.

Sunt foc sau mare, nici eu nu mai stiu.

Ratacesc printre pietre si monumente

ridicate pentru altii,

in scarba sau admiratie.

Privesc.

In golul din mine nu mai exista 

nici loc pentru ratiune, nici pentru motiv.

Si haotic, simt toate gesturile tale

dansandu-se cu picaturile de vin

rosu dulce ce imi curg prin vene,

iar litere din cuvintele tale,

imi apar aleatoriu sub piele precum cicatrici

pe care nu le regret.

Si-mi da fiori pe sira spinarii

neputinta de a-ti oglindi imaginea 

perfecta ca o poza in alb si negru,

caci eu sunt colorata de

poeme fara rima si revelatii nocturne

care-mi soptesc in ceafa:

Lumea ar trebui sa-ti ridice tie statui.