joi, 23 februarie 2012


Poem by Celestine

At your breast I have slipped sharply,
Constrained morning between your thighs.
I was born in my own hands
Stepped over my fingers,
Like a smoked river in a world
Of men.

Will you marry me if I'm dead? 
Under the weight of a rough ground,
Spread me at your feet.
Punch me with my shortcoming,
Let my deaf angel inside your ear.
Throw me in you!
Kill my fear,
For I was born backwards,
Inside myself.

Created label for your lips
Tasting the air I breath.
You are my last cigarette!
My last pleasure when I die inside.
Thou shalt not steal the balm,
Inside my chest.

You put my soul on the paper.
My pencil wrote over your heart
With a smile,
With a tear,
With a noisy kiss,
Between your clumsy lips.

I am alive inside your eyes
Dragged the old me under your hat,
When I fall into your arms,
So certain!
You are my vertical illusion.

luni, 6 februarie 2012


  Poem by Celestine

 Blindfolded delight longing for me
Behind my angels my hat was on
Covering the darkness inside-out.
I love you tomorrow,
I promise you!
For today I am resting my soul.
Blindfolded pleasure at my wedding
When the dark spouse gathered my joy,
Inside his pockets.
Tomorrow he returns to me,
With dead promises.

 Blindfolded death of mine,
Those losted hands digging inside me
Reaching for the white heart,
For the white rabbit,
For the white hole,
For the white birth.
In for a penny, in for a pound
Is the dance of the deads.

I died today.
It was the death of the Self,
When you forgot the story of life.
How did the joy became sorrow,
When her breast fed you with debts.
The travel of oblivion,
Is the oblivion of Man.