a mist of tulips
a morning spread like a dream
don’t you wake up Atlas’s son
let him sleep
with his head resting
on a pillow of tulips
like fire through backbone
a mist of purple
the dreamy migrates anew
from tulip to tulip
purple in a bed of mist
a sweet melody
That blue tulip!
That tulip hidden between two trunks
deep in the woods, deep in there,
dreams every instant
of sipping a little more dew.
as the sun sets down at dusk...
That blazing-body tulip,
that blue tulip!
Amsterdam, August 2018
This season, you lull under a sky superior to mine;
the thin hoarfrost on trees is fog respiration only,
which shreds our landscapes in crystals of lethargic winters...
Wake up, for the nature’s spirit is raving in feminine heat,
under guitar strums that grunt for love
and whisper no farewell to forget-me-not flowers...
Freeze like dusk in front of abrupt light,
in a land shivering of lonely tunes, under a sky
where the sun doesn’t shine to merely show-off!
Freeze in the flames
slumbering lustily in the blood of spring embers,
freeze, and still show up on doorsteps
shiny like this sky, my handsome one!
A Cat Like No Other...
Latest media news:
“Billionaire Lagerfeld willed his whole estate to his cat, Choupette.”
There is now a cat
with her fur much more expensive
than all of the ladies’ fur coats in Broadway!
A royal cat, whimsical and pampered,
that has folks wonder of the eventual male suitor
she’ll drive mad to the point of committing suicide!
Our dearest little heiress, with her bluest eyes,
now outshines the enthusiastic ornithologist,
who lectures on and on about birds
to an audience of huge fans of stunning fowl photos,
feathers and chirps,
who claims absolute expertise on flying,
but knows nothing of children in Aleppo!
In the alpine Accursed Woodlands,
where time stands still,
breath stands no chance to breathe,
At the Blessed Bridge,
do not pin your hopes on the stone,
if waters first didn’t bless your trip,
The Coolest Loser
Blind eyes, sleepy,
across worldly winters –
eyes sunk into blooming abysses, my loser.
Please take a quick look at the sun by dawn,
it’s a lamp brighter than an eye’s pupil...
O coolest loser, with three lanterns in hand,
no loony got enlightened under moonlight;
springtime wolves grow white-haired like men,
hunters, though, can hardly spot them out in snow!