One of these days

although my humble idea about you vanished
through lips, I got confused
with my bare hands I ripped your silk dress
and threw it to the dogs in one of those nights
when they got mad
sometimes I wait near the phone
an old one you’ve used to manipulate me
when being away
on the floor morning finds me
naked

I walk thousands of miles in the same room
through the same brown furniture that entrapped
your fingerprints when fire burst into the pipes
of your body
I still feel those flames within the scars of my
thenars

now, go away, be part of the wood
be one with the ground
and selfish

feel my steps searching you?

© Marius Surleac

Wounds

on the cabinet ghost’s tracks filling the holes within the soul
with oscillatory movements the photos change their signatures
I ask for oblivion pain leading me to the edge of the tears’ fall
echoes spinning through slashes of time and pulling the senses
back to the past

the origins split in the whirlpool of movements
the beliefs once have been born in a child’s mind

the laugh of the sisters and brothers helping the spirit to revive
the blood to strike stronger through the heart that was lost in silence
days are not the same as they used to be in the smiles of the summers
and nights are crawling naked through nightmares for the beast will come
near my wound

shapes were modified in the wide universe
filled with wisdom for the new ray scattering

many of the days are discovered underneath the bloody sunsets
scraping smoothly the sky’s clouds I find far away my mother’s
aspect in the kitchen sobbing between the empty walls of the
house that turned into a small piece of hell with dust wiping
the mind of a grown-up

on a white piece of paper the wind spreads out
little dunes with the weird shape of the memories

in the cabinet a tear elevates
from a stuck eye that
never will
close

© Marius Surleac

Categories: Poetry Tags: ,

Quatrain 6

April 22, 2010 phantasrealismus 2 comments

sweet basil at the ikon stands
and once again the skies have split
the garlic’s smell just faith demands
and candles by the beasts were hit

© Marius Surleac

Categories: Poetry Tags: , ,

Comptine d’un autre automne

I run over the seas
and dive in the skylines burnt by the fires of hell
the night that will come with all its whispers
will embrace us

I find myself on pathways
the dance taking shape in my soul with your hot footsteps
bears me down – I remain trampled like an animal
on the asphalt

I rise from oblivions
the dusty accordion still throbs in the night
when I laugh in my sleep and I tell you in foreign languages
the oldest words

all that we feel for each other is relative –
the vibrations, the tears, the sighs, the embraces

I want to run madly among trees in autumn –
the soul, the leaf, the mystery, the sky, the wind, the smile

I want you to bring me down with the chain from your foot’s joint –
the hands stretched on the same sky axis

© Marius Surleac

Adsum

I’m running

behind me only the dust remains
and the pathways wherethrough the spiders wandered their prey

since I was born
I’m looking only forward
never backwards

I sweep away with a spittle
in shadow
a gene mutation

until you manage to write about me
solely one word
you’ll have already been dead

sometimes I have a déjà-vu
but I keep on going

I’m a stray cur
on a mountain of bones

you are I

© Marius Surleac

Still life

through dice the six-shooter gleams at the burnt end
of the bullet
at the other end, like in a comet tale,
blood spheres

within angles the meat pieces quench

on the alleys: first step from kids’ run,
screams in a thousandth second,
leaves stopped at a few centimetres from ground
birds with the spread wings, a shadow
getting closer to the
knees

the lady in white put aside
her strings

© Marius Surleac

Categories: Poetry Tags: , , ,

No Word in Silence … just Light?

Howl of despair in the oasis of thoughts
had crushed my ideas tho’ wound that’s still, hurts
My will, thy, inspire the soul that was found
and asking for mercies from sky to the ground

The roses whose thorns invaded the flesh
and blood that enclosed vibrations in ash,
got me far beyond the stones and the trees,
far beyond the seas and glass from my knees

I step very quickly to hide from my tracks,
to find my self new – nor memory lacks,
nor wind shall not blow to my ear his wings,
nor moon shall not wear theatre’s ol’ strings

Just me in the silence to dig for myself,
to find an ol’ stone carved speechless with Help…

For the Word and the Light will open the Eye!

© Marius Surleac

Experimentalism

I had to taste the ink to find out
if those words were true or not
I had to chew the paper
to understand what the ground would feel like

My bones were broken by the burden
like a sphere with skyscrapers of stone,
with emotions like boiling water
and hearts’ words like quakes

When I lifted my knees from the peat bog
of judgments,
I knew I was lost in the chaos of night
from the past

My neuronal creek was filled with beasts
with three heads, each one with snakes upon
My desires were their wings with photon feathers
tinted in red and green and blue

Every inch of my skin was stabbed
with light spears
Within my white bloody wounds,
electrons flee

From one point the growth of the Universe
taught me all these

© Marius Surleac

Do you?

do you think I’ll keep my mouth shut when you let me no possibilities to express my nasty personality?
when I look beyond my shoulder I see only darkness and bleeding wounds on the dried hearts, within the mummified body

do you think I’ll manage to climb the mountain that took birth in your eyes just to break down a record for high moral values?
where the tears are just turbulent rivers that cross the entire shape of your soul and are lost on the theatre’s scene

do you think I went outside my mind on the rainy day, to climb on the top of the sky just to bring you a few stars that burned my cracked palms?
– no, I had no light in my house and my ears heard that boogie man died when touching one

do you think that the nights killed by pleasures will be the same as the days when I’ll get pissed of?
I light a cigar, open the bottle of jack, take a pencil, give birth to memories and then hang them on the walls of my unconsciousness

***

then a thunder, a noise, a glamour voice punched my bunch of neurons:
“will you marry me?”

© Marius Surleac

© Photo by Mariano Petit de Murat

Walpurgis Night – Walpurgisnacht, Valborgsmässoafton, Vapunaatto, Volbriöö

One flake has died last night, the second one appears;
I see across my sight, just loss of winter … dear

Under my feet the soil burned and water flew;
my heart was hit by dreadful drops some time she knew

The trees upon my head sent poisoned twigs and warm
their flesh, which rapidly killed the coldest fear

Wolves that roar in darkness will quake entire nature,
though ghosts got stir in night by dancing witches’ venture

The dead embrace the living, bonfires are prepared –
through veins, the dark is bleeding and all the souls are scared

Straight to the hill I follow the grass tied up surreal,
which humps the tracks that swallow our souls which cannot deal

Just there, beneath the stronghold, we all have reached with thousands;
and smoke unfold the secret moon in our barely hands

The pagan rites discovered the ecstasy, the fly
of good has broadened across the universe away

Runes retrieved by Odin will sent us in dimensions
of time and space, within some infinite vibrations

The Brocken Mountain sleeps, inside his spectre shadows
of mystic gods were moved in caves, by foggy meadows

The day when Adolf’s death brought fear, he prepared
from dimness world the demons … strongly felt unfair

We have met together and all started to sing
about Walpurga Saint, about the wind of spring

The youngest will collect the greeneries and branches,
to make the fire hit into the sky in stances

The thousands masks and witches will follow straight the whispers,
that fell down wild in pieces from cosmic widespread triggers

The lavish table’s food, the silver cups; the mind away
that mixes – white wine with music … I felt inside today

They all spent blissful hours, and drank, and sang, and pray,
and jumped in ancient towers, ‘cause feelings won’t betray

But dawn in haste appears and perfect night will hide
her ropes inside our tears, that died perhaps in pride

The elder trees got flowers and breeze their scent has spread,
I pass above the birth of spring … leaving straight ahead!!!

© Marius Surleac