Ameros Perros (Love is a bitch)

Love is a bitch that licks moon from the street

In the city,
With rabied eyes and half lighted face I hang out in its every turns
multiplied in to infinite tales
A pale, dense river of unknown liquid flows nearby.
An electrified string is played and sustained to eternal pitch.

Love barks at the fading moon.
A fleet of horror sails to the glass town where I reflect to me.
Love is still a bitch that looks up,sitting still
charcoal black silhouette

three landscapes, poem from the city

Interior
Impotant incandascent light
the tint is of poison blue

Illusion
Orange trees.
3 O clock Sun.
elegant green.
rich yellow
delicious smell of cigerrettes
And the mood is,
as if the Sea around.

Exterior
Yellow is obscene as a naked yoke of egg
The smudged view of distant trees is marijuana green
The iris clocks, in the trippy eyes of angels tick away
the moon through the jelly-black roads

haiku at 4.20 PM

wandering the whole day, the Day came back with a girl named Rain
where i had been disheveled with a ghazal

Love Letter ( To Nikhila)

even if i disappear, i am glad that i have known you.
you will be the harder rock where i can have my safe place, or on which where i can have a more dignified wreck.
i hope you will one day wake up to see that all those where nightmares that ailed you...
i was watching over while you were asleep...
i remember a red moon night...your breath rescued my dreams by not letting them go shattered.
i didn't fear sleep when your breath spread its shelter over me...oh you the guardian angel of my dreams....when i think of you i love myself...you owe my life...
Oh dearest, i am leaving the shaky vessel of life for to you i belong.
when you set sailing
when you are back, turned to be the sea itself
i myself is earth
for i know the seaness within you
let your wildest waves rest on me....
let us grow through each others hearts
Narcissist Flowers

you are my winter ( song from the equator)

Filling each other
we go blanc
we are just filled among
with white like trees in the winter
beyond the winter's white
we have rooted deep down apart
millimeter distances
we are tuned and stretched in pain
the bow comes like winter
we weep a white symphony

Metal flute

bamboo's first song must be of the first cut

Green pales to yellow

sun silvered in the dagger
my flesh is ripe yellow offwhite and the hollow..
my blood is a note of breath

Narcissus

i stretch my hands
in to the depths of the mirror
i know i know the tale,
in which you are dead.
i and i
became a tale
where a long stemmed flower grows.
One day one day
Ophelia... we may meet
for... you strummed out me,
a long stemmed tale
from where i drowned as a tale.

Messenger at Midnight (circle and rectangle of waiting)

1
12 o clock
in a needle leap
the imperfect half of
the most perfect absurdity
is upturned.

/
12 o clock
A blood stained hand of
a clock may make
the next half an hour, bloody

2
A boy with an angel face
may come through this
dark rectangle, dropping rain from his coat,
he may say
no....


inspired by Samuel Becket, especially his television play 'Ghost Trio'

Nightbird

"Wake up..."
A bird,
feathers green and red


A tree,
can keep the dark
only until the sun is gone.

then wake up
when the night leaves the leaves
like a bird flies out of a tree.