Falling Crystals

Seconds drift like years

Knitting more fears

A shadow of mine escaped the crowd

Broke in tears a proud cloud

Uncaring for a pride falling to a creep

Darkness keeps secrets in the deep

Breathless turned an eye

Towards a marvelous sky

Was it sky’s garment over-glittering?

Or my crystals were behind that much twinkling?

Couldn’t I realize which was true?

As I couldn’t stop tears for a proper view

And how could I when you sleep cold!

You’ve promised with me to grow old

Why you’ve gone this fast?

What a spell to cast!

"The surreal "painting by Rob Gonsalves

“The surreal “painting by Rob Gonsalves

When I was around four, in love with a star I fell

Used to dream of it as well;

“Beyond that twinkling star

The Lord has hidden a jar

In which he collects spirits

Not any; just those of royal merits”

Wish that jar’s there for real

Glimpses of your wandering spirit, all night I’d steal

Weird’s life and how time rules every game!

Seems like yesterday when you spelled first my name

Today that you’ve become for whom I yearn

And tonight you’re ashes and I’m your urn…

Signature

Gate Eleven

 

 When faith troubles

Guilt just doubles

Happiness withers away

Innocence fades with sun’s last ray

Yet never rises again on the next day

"The Gate" painting by Yordan Dimitrov

“The Gate” painting by Yordan Dimitrov


Faces of roses
lose charm

Incense
carries harm

Conquer devils churches’ rear

Turns a holy bond
to a venomous spear

Honest rhythms disappear


Purity escapes dawn

Evil winds moan

Putting off love in each bedroom

Kissing death either the bride or her groom

Overshadows a lasting gloom


Time anchors in a thrill

Everyone’s gone writing his final will

Adam and Eve have set fire in heaven

Spread wide Hell’s gates that count to eleven

Eleven they’ve become, for Mankind wasn’t satisfied by The Deadly Seven

Signature

Last Letter to Last

Tick-Tuck Tick-Tuck; unusually slow

Perhaps tiny arms frozen under snow

Perhaps they’re renovating their ancient art

There in the heart of forest, lives a heart

Daggers of time left him lone with scars

And no more “The Countless” are only stars

Death angel early tonight has knocked his door

Saying soon his ship will leave the shore

The Angel left leaving a glimpse of light

Stealing darkness from the whole night

Few hours are left for peace to blast

Few yet enough to write a last letter to last

“Always Together” Painting by Vladimir Kush


“I’m leaving; leaving precious parts behind

The eyes I give to the blind

To those forbidden nature songs to hear,

I give a sound ear

To those of cold legs, I give warm feet

The hands to hard workers I was honored to meet

The memory to those suffering Alzheimer’s

Liver, kidneys and spine to cancer risers


The heart…excuse me; the precious can’t I give

I’ll just die with the scars as I live

Now burn the flesh; burn the trigger of lust

So from stars I’m born, and shall return to dust…

Wrinkled Rainbow


Like never, woke up today’s sun

Proudly floating over dust of blue

From butterflies, soil’s perfume flew

Felt I the world safe, but she had to run

Run; seeking a secret hide some place

Deeper than oceans and seas,

Higher than what Human sees

Leaving behind no single trace

“Candle” painting by Vladimir Kush


Her insecurities are eating her alive

Between smiles and tears stands no border

Everybody’s leaning on her shoulder

To breathe; shall she thrive or strive?


Faith’s leaking out of hands

When, under chains, they’re obliged to sleep

Away, chains of sleepless veins, creep

Till set sail galaxies, but a weak heart, frozen, stands


Staring at the moon plucking off the preciousness of a day

Ripping along everything innocently glittering

There too stood demons of the dark, giggling

It was me not her; gone and gone midway


Eighteen billion seconds give birth to a year

Years painted my rainbow with no touch of green

Recording life’s seasons skipping that of a teen

Where generous rivers were held within each tear…

Silenced Silence

Winds of Universe…sprinkle your mirth

Cleanse the misery in which was baptized Earth

Cleanse the doom by whom Life has been kissed!

Every Journey the Heart takes, the Right Path is missed…

In love, fell I and fell first

Never could the Beloved calm a growing thirst

Forever pumped with care that tastes queer

Especially when other beats drew a prior career…

Every time, his breath blew beside,

Profound silence grew refusing to play the seek-and-hide…

“Miranda The Tempest” painting by J.W. Waterhouse

His everything was boldly adorable,

Yet for him seemed ignorable

Ever since remembered, he was near, but absent

Said much the Beat, yet stayed silent

Years dried the most generous eyes

Supposed to be forgotten, till met again our eyes

One thing then couldn’t be denied;

A Heart packing a million beat, turned the tide

Out of sight; set sail countless years;

Sealing my streams; not those of tears

Now out of the blue dropping anchor in my bay

Innocently requesting a long-term stay

His passion-painted words made sense of nonsense

Where was it before, and is its birth now just a pretense!

Can’t lie lips destined to honesty and draw “NO”

Still whenever he sways close, through veins life after life does flow

However sentenced to death before birth; a sighing “YES”

Fails no heart; a Beat, but mine did, I confess…

                                                                                     

Blessed Coffin

Down a prison of tears with loads of pain chained

Nothing but the darkness of fears, nothing in nothing remained

Memories bleed…wither beds of roses

No more does life proceed when dies faith in Moses

And mine’s got its final judgment: Execution

Stabbed on March was never an illusion

“Sleeping Beauty” painting by Thomas Ralph Spence

What’s harder than death is naked-living dead

Execute his beats from my depth, erase his touch from my red

Let the heart master its own beat

Let the steps master their own feet

Erase me like silliness from wisdom

Send me back a princess to my kingdom

Steal my life then, but now forbid my suicide

Come back to me Lord, sleep deep inside

So like a bride in pride, I walk to my last sleep

And in peace to immortal peace I’ll be wed, and you stay in deep

Out of your kingdom, golden castles are nothing but ashes

Blow in me then blow me like ashes

Dress me a coffin then in Devil’s grave ask me to lie

Me beneath your blessed coffin will live, and the Devil will die…

Shadowy Spot

Declared mid-night, night’s ticking arm,

For a Vampire to start his race

Along with a Moon whom surfing skies has exhausted,

Yet still grabbing an ancient Charm;

Believed it was Stolen from a Goddess’s face

To a Tomb that Legends describe as haunted,

“Circe Invidiosa” painting by J.W. Waterhouse

For Stars have burnt over their immortal Incense,

And for a fond lover of darkness to spread wings

Along with the same Moon over a path of shadows.

Tracking Stars to a spot dyed in innocence,

For no Man ever has spoiled its springs.

Rang the echo of her beats the furthest hollows,


Till got ceased by a striking scene;

Not a single trace of her own shadow was there.

Have Nature’s Mirrors forgotten having it drawn!

Or simply blind Brushes, not even its shade  had seen!

Shivered the Spirit, and set a search of Sherlock Holme’s care,

To the deepest hollows and darkest corners:
inspecting eyes were thrown


Yet detected no clue through the crowded nothingness.

No more Oak’s towering trunks stretch arms to the sky

Nothing’s quite the same as if senses have lost sense

Beauty hand in hand with peace turned in to wilderness;

No more Sweet williams, woods’ old breeze, glorify

Nothing happily fluttered as it did once


Was it a spot; some Aliens chose to conquer!

Was it a spot; some Wizards played across Black Magic!

Was it a spot; some Ghosts in the woods had cleft!

Was it a spot; some Witches blew vanishing curses over!

Or simply my Melancholy was turning out tragic!

But what about my Shadow! never heard before of Shadows Theft…

                                                                                                            

Bleeding Eyes

Everything white sailed away

Glittering smiles on innocent lips got broken

Became tears the first language ever spoken

“Escape” painting by Patrick J. Reynolds

When blind lips missed their way one black day

Dear Lord…May I weep;

Over the page you’ve torn out of my heart’s book?

Wondering why it was the perfect one you took;

Bleeding eyes refused to sleep

Neither did the moon rise nor set the sun

Neither could butterflies flutter nor birds fly

How felt a sky when guardians of heaven cry!

And what about me?…Me’s just gone

Dear Lord,You’ve stolen the taste of love

And to death wedded my only heavenly bless

Have you forgotten about me?…please don’t say yes

Don’t you have a place for me above?

Will knock my door, spring, after eleven!

How’ll spring bloom in black,

And tears have carved on a flower’s face a track!

Dear Lord send  me to Hell if this is Heaven