The colors of sadness

You woke me up
From this helplessness
While dreaming
The unnamed shades
Gathered in a hurry
On any other easel
Lost in your garden


All alone
Sick by people
I was picking the poppies
And made a crown
Of silence


Through the eyes of heaven
Sun carved a rainbow
In the colors
Of sadness

A hug of trees

Bare trees
Waiting for another garment
Spring
To cheer them up
With birds and flowers
So lonely
When wind gives them a name


Do the trees hug each other?
Do they say goodnight?
Before sleep steal them
From the world of the living?


Sky- a huge dome
Swinging the clouds
Leafless branches
As the helpless arms
Praying for freedom

Album of echoes

After that passionate night
Spent together
She suddenly told me
Her heart is surrounded by electric wires
And it's no longer for sale
As a cheap second-hand jacket


Followed a cigarette
And the cup of coffee
This time so bitter
So tastefully stained
With uncertainties


Hey, she said
Don't write me another love poem
Artists know nothing about it
Just delete my old photo
From the album of echoes

God sifted the flour

In heavens the angels fell asleep
On soft silky pillows
Covering themselves with clouds
Leaving the sky so naked


It's snowing down here
Over the houses, trees and people
A white robe
Dressing the whole nature
Maybe God himself
Wants to bake a holy bread
And sifted the flour

Homemade bread

Grandma used to bake
Homemade bread
Every two other days
From a dough smelling
Of old age

She  kneaded the mixture
As God the loam
Which crated Adam
Or storms the clouds
Before a heavy rain

When ready for the oven
She made the cross sign
With her right hand
Saying a prayer
Watered with our sufferings

Another poetic death....

I've always wondered
What to write in my last poem
As a suicide note for the posteriority
Hidden somewhere in a dark room
The walls chocked with cigarettes smoke
And iron bars at the window
My everyday prison
Where happiness's only flashing
Under a veil of tears
The child in me
Is seeing life as a continuous death
The pen stopped writing
Another poetic death

In the dying eye a tear

Do not ask me
I do not know when the end
is near
Fear is a sky without celestial bodies
As a changeover
Meat into ground


Now you know what to take with you
On your long journey to the stars
You do not need garments
Nor money
Just a clean conscience
And courage


Sooner or later
We''ll all meet there
Visit me in my dreams
So I know you're doing fine
Wait for me
In the garden with angels


In the dying eye a tear
A last breath
With the scent of illusions...

Paint the world with poetry

Sometimes I write poetry
Not on a piece of paper
But with my fingers in the air
So the clouds would stop
And see the depth of the sky
Sunshine caressing
The gentle face of a child
Before it perishes
Into the unknown
Other times
I just paint the sea
With scenes from a dream
I know  my words will move then
All the crying hearts

The heresy of loneliness

Sadness stepping on leaves' veins
Hiding in the dying branches
Alone, floating among memories
Crying
Masters of colors
The gods lost in paintings with angels
Tomorrow will escape
Your cage

Colorless shivers

I am nothing but the leaf
On which the fireflies
Dance in the sunset
You fear to explore more
To search me
With cold hands
Twisting my soul
And tearing my mind
Hidden underneath its garments
Colorless shivers
Appearing like
Cutting the line