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Bun venit in clubUnivers tăcut cu trup de vioară,
Univers închis în lumină de ceară,
Univers mocnind cu muget de fiară,
O voce absentă și zâmbet de ceară.
Un gând captiv îl mână-ntr-o doară,
Un cal de oțel, vâltoare-animată,
Un pas descalecă seară de seară,
O zală de fir și foc insuflată.
Otravă sonoră luptând c-o armată,
Otravă dormid în perne de vată,
Otravă pulsând cu-aromă de fată,
Un plastur acustic și smocuri de vată.
O pată crăpată pe-o piatră uscată,
O frunte picată sub ropot de piatră,
O coală ridată, de pulberi udată,
Un cocteil de vacuum și cuburi de piatră.
De ziua ta, MamicoCe-ţi doresc eu ţie, dulce Românie,
Osuar de glorii ruginind de dor?
Din adâncu-i tainic, Bardul să mă ierte,
Că-i imită cântul zumzet de trântor,
Să topească ceara, pietrele să crape,
Cerul să înmoaie jugu-apăsător,
Cu a sa rafale, fie să răsune,
În auz și-n inimi, glasul lui Stentor!
De pe-o bancă rece Răul ne aruncă,
Împrejur și-n case ochi iscoditor,
Cu priviri vorace munții ni-i mănâncă,
Rodul ni-l despoaie până la cotor,
Lupii și-i asmute stâna să vegheze,
Apele se sting în setea lor,
Mai bine ca timpul să dezarhiveze,
Sabia și turbanul de cotropitor.
Limba se-mpletește, ochiul împânzește,
Portul putrezește pe pridvor,
Iele se înfoaie, brazii se îndoaie,
Sfinții se închină la televizor,
Un potop de ape vine să ne-ngroape,
PolymorphismI've been void and I've been full,
Both exception and the rule;
I've been sightless, I have seen,
Things outside and deep within;
I've been shallow and abyss,
Spitting lips and lips that kiss;
I've been cold, I've been alive,
Queen of flames and humming hive;
I've been wild, I've been tamed,
Beast of burden, wrath unchained;
I've been green and autumn drained,
Waxing dreams and stars that waned;
I've been then and thereafter,
Clouds of storm and rumbling laughter;
Saving breath and tear drowned,
I've been sane and darkness crowned;
I've been dusk and I've been dawn,
I've been raven, I've been swan;
I've been grave and I've been song,
Bleeding knees and deathly strong;
I've been sin and sacrifice,
Sanguine circle, holy vice;
Things unnumbered I have been,
Save the warmth beneath your skin.
Pia Non MorieturUnending incursions through libraries of Babel,
The haze of its branches, with no saving cable,
The fallen are taunting through records so parched,
One sip of their murmurs, I'm deeply discharged.
Delving ever deeper for things I don't seek,
Every abyss I unmask becomes a new peak,
That my hope clings to with fading grip,
As I'm slowly driven t'wards innermost keep.
When does the test end? Where do the answers lie?
Oh, Lucious, just face me! Won't bite, don't be shy!
The PathfinderThe thing that I share, the thing I will show,
You've seen it already, you already know,
That thing precisely compels us to it.
When reason dictates that you spit,
Instead I tell you to swallow,
That thought and let your heart follow!
It finds you upright, it finds you abed,
Beheading the sin and giving it head;
In pieces it finds you, it finds you at peace,
Consumed by your engines and wholly remiss;
If finds you in silence, it finds you in song,
Erupting like crackers and dormant as fog;
It finds you in love, it finds you in cold,
Unwrapping the new, enthralled by the old;
It catches you laugh, it catches you weep,
With joy that you gave, or struggled to keep;
It catches you right, it catches you left,
United as one, by oneness bereft;
It catches you soaring, it catches you fall,
To wider ellipses, from shuttles too small;
In thought it does catch you, it catches in act,
The theory it catches, as well as the fact.
The thing that I speak of, the thing that you seek,
Has found you alre
Silentio iacta estLonely shepherd on a root,
calling things and teaching grammar,
and the silence fell like fruit.
Naughty pupils making clamor,
in the court that once was ours,
and the silence fell like hammer.
Heaven raging its guitars,
radiating waves of wonder,
and the silence fell like stars.
Earthly drum is torn asunder,
ash and fire bleed through ears,
and the silence fell like thunder.
The unknown unleashing fears,
sometimes treble, sometimes bass,
and the silence fell like tears.
Silver turning into brass,
slowly dripping all its spark,
and the silence fell like glass.
Beams of hope becoming ark,
the salvation of the heirs,
and the silence fell like dark.
Everything arrayed in pairs,
in the shelter stormed by vice,
and the silence fell like stairs.
Selfish babble has a price,
would that love had kept us mute,
and the silence fell like dice.
Tarziu, adica devremeȘuier, ramură și zare,
Cânt planând în depărtare,
Umbră, stele și cadran,
Timpul ticăie în geam,
Ploaie, ceară și nisip,
Focul picură un chip,
Ziduri, humă și tavan,
Un chibrit aprins în van,
Oase, fir și cristalin,
Petele albesc deplin,
Smoală, scânduri și cenușă,
Cine dracu` e la ușă?
Drosophila melanogasterÎn vița vie-a minții,
bolnave de rugină,
genunile ca dinții,
dau iama în lumină.
Prădând în revoluții,
ciorchinele de rimă,
dorințele ca șuții,
sunt ferecate-n mină.
se clatină de crimă,
misterele ca sfinții,
secate-s fără vină.
în vesteda patină,
speranțele ca struții,
se izbăvesc în tină.
StigmatulCa la cruciadă,
Cu vizor și cască,
Vaiere sub mască.
Pe plaja Morganei.
Pe-ale oglinzii valuri,
Vas făr` de șurub,
Nuntă de sucub.
În cetatea nopții,
Gem de scoală morții.
În câminul sacru,
Focul din năframă,
Ținta pusă are.
Valuri de verdeață,
Grații de femeie,
Condamnat la viață.
The tough gets growingI'm knee-deep in mud,
grumbling and mumbling
about what I did
to deserve this mess
And my mother glares,
"When I planted you,
I put you deep in the dirt,
not to bury you alive,
but to teach you that
when the growing gets tough,
the tough gets growing."
pick up the slack and
pick up that slack-jawed shadow of yours
dragging on wet pavement under your soles
and hurry it along, we ain't got all day here
flex your white-boned fingers and
taut knuckles and pluck the soul from
its coffin in your slick throat
the sun has better places to be than in your sky.
Falling Back into Placei wait for wisdom
the sludge tells me
to come in
awaits, just beneath the tack
of its sticky skin
and i know
that what waits there
is more patient
eternal and hungry
but the peace
is only a skin
grow upyou say
i am weak
i have never
worked for anything
i am not sorry
i should take
the pills the doctor
i will never
know what it is to
hurt the way that you hurt,
plant me in the ground
listen to the way my nature sounds
when i turn from something black
to something luminous, proud
you turned me into a shadow, you prick
remember that? remember this?
yeah, the condom broke, you
piece of shit, at least i tried
to be careful, at least when
you cried, i kissed your
say what you want
about my judgment.
my immaturity, my general
lack of readiness for
anything. but i was good
to you, and i tried,
and i am sorry that
you hurt so much
that you can't
do it as elegantly
as i can.
you have never
learned to love
the grit: the place
where my spirit sags,
where my love
as if biology could have been any clearer,
cleaning your spit from my bedroom mirror-
i can smell your genes and
they smell fucking good to me,
but i keep telling myself,
Our destiny is determined
Reliving the past
Enduring the suffering
Visions of the future
Endeavours to come
Representing life as a whole
9 Countenances for the Curious1.
My limbs have become instruments,
but, unlike the piano of your memories,
I am still not anyone's to play.
I think I am finite,
that the limits of me are dictated
by flesh and numbers
on an inverted scale
but the dog on my lap
doesn't care what I weigh;
she wants only
to love me and be loved.
the pain that anchors you
strains your back,
the ship of your life
is hamstrung upon a reef
and you think you are watching
a dolphin at play
but siren songs deceive you.
my ship sank beneath the waters
years ago, this bubble of life
sustains me even as i drown:
there are storms in the depths
of me, and you see only
the ocean's calm.
At 7, I swallowed stories
like candy; didn't understand
that too much leaves you bloated.
At 17, I breakfasted on books
like pancakes; too caught up
to tell (some things should be special).
At 27, I feasted on fiction
like home-cooked meals; didn't know
some of it could poison you.
At 37, I hope I will be picking
at poetry; letting the flavours
of the words
the gardenersMy father is a good man.
His hands, dry and
callused, carry a case
of Corona Lite
to the gardeners in
Big-brimmed hats cast
shadows down their faces,
and a pile of thick,
gray gloves lies
on the glass table.
The beer looks like liquid
gold in those clear bottles,
and condensation clings
to the glass like the sweat
beading at their brows.
My father and the gardeners
drink, laughing like they’ve
known one another for years.
There is nothing
that brings men together
better than beer
on a hot day.
The Washed MindI have let the difficulties flood my body
From head, the worries slip to my heart
like children falling through the cracks
of some broken floor
under which is nothing besides me
My mind is melting from the inside
Swarmed by maggots and the meaningless questions:
Would my mind work better
without all these walls
stopping it from evolving?
Where did these obscene problems come from?
Surely my mind was born free
Surely my opinions exist somewhere...
Or is freedom nothing but a joke
to the true me?
So, I ate nails and needles to clear my mind
The bleeding and the pain
were both evil and refreshing
I have learned the lesson
fairy tales are the shadows on my eyes
Now my mind is clear as melting glass
running down my cold spine
washing away the sins,
violent thoughts and sorrowful memories
from the edge of my past
....Nici animal, nici om, nici zeu,
nici ADN si nici Arheu.
Si nici Arheu, nici ADN,
nici Foc ce-a ars, nici Cremene.
Si nici angelic, nici cazut,
nici implicat, nici nevazut.
Nici nevazut, nici implicat,
nici dat uitarii, nici rugat.
Si nici in Rai, nici in Abis,
nici amintit si nici omis.
Si nici omis, nici amintit,
nici decazut, nici mantuit.
Si nici terestru, nici celest,
nici rasarit si nici in vest.
Si nici in vest, nici rasarit,
nici la nadir, nici la zenit.
Nici profan si nici sacral,
nici chip cioplit, nici teofant.
Nici teofant, nici chip cioplit,
nici denuntat, nici investit.
Si nici fanatic, nici ateu,
Nici devotat, nici Prometeu.
Nici Prometeu, nici devotat,
nici neplacut, nici adulat.
Si nici iubit si nici urat,
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More