Balance

Whenever I give away something,

I think and think and try to find out

who’s the most worthy of my disposed belongings

hoping to find the poorest,

the one who’s in most need.

The other day,

God, knowing my effort to be fair,

decided I should lose my baby

because I dared to have the feeling of righteousness.

***

Whenever a product has two prices,

one above another (one hidden),

I cannot help thinking that the hidden one is lower.

And what if the same thing happens in life:

at birth you are given a certain route

which will be changed

so that your value increases –

God is always a plus

and we need a certain time to adapt

to other’s happiness,

to His equations.

Opal

An embryo

not vigurous enough

left the uterus.

***

As I passed by,

the old man at the corner of the street

hid his wings.

He was no angel after all.

People say angels are young

and God has grown old

just like an embryo should grow-

larger than mere Hope,                    

more eager than Life itself.

Unless its wings are being hidden on purpose.

***

Trains of faith lose their way in the dark of the memory -

nobody gets brighter,

nor better.

***

The sun plays happy at my sight.

Half-witted,

my shadow

does the same.

Eyes laden with tears

They say :

‘She lost her baby’.

But nobody in sky or earth

would tell her

where.

I’ll try to get closer

to them all…

Seen through a tear,

the air I breathe

catches the colour of hope.

abracadabra

I don’t know why poeple do things

I don’t know why poeple don’t do things

simetry is a rare form of loving the self

simetrical steps

simetrical falls

out of repeated forgiveness

yet we are told to be

different

ever different

further more

to reinvent ourselves

truths don’t get to settle into shape

they pass from hand to hand

from wound to wound

death stays the only one that cures all

lover God

you’re like a word
that doesn’t exist 
in the dictionary

yet spoken

you arouse my meaning

a stream of consciousness

in the city of Dublin

the seagulls cry out their desire

to fly back to the open sea

hearing them I think of my space

reduced to the one-way sky

a stranger tells me

to look at the large picture

I wonder how could I

every second shrinks my shadow

ironically I sip my English tea

when you awkward stubborn sun

make my field hurry towards a late green

I can’t swim against the stream

but unaware of a deadline yet

I linger on the streets of my poems