In the snowstorm, holding but a candle
On the barricades, young flesh, on the front line
There is no bread to feed this hunger
And they poisoned the wine
Before sacrificing to the next revolution
To the beautiful lie
Come with us we'll watch the saints
Falling from the sky
A blade of words slits our throats to drown
A thousand sleepers in our sweet blood's bed
Do not descend into silence
Let's paint our plane red
And not fade into painless myths
And not surrender to the dead
Speed, vertigo, wanderlust
“Dark water” to taste, to rise against the dust
War , blood, torsos and scars
Skulls, fractures, bruises and rust
To crush, to breathe, to master, to fight
To screw, to scream, to live, to bite
Despite the old tongues desperate tripe
Beyond the architecture of archetype
Self portrait
15 comments:
Beautiful
It is a lovely poem carrying you into myth history war...
all interwoven like an ancient historical carpet hanging on an ancient wall that makes you want to stand and read every thread of history! you must have taken a holy bath in beautiful European history and blood ...I love your poems!!!!!
You are beautiful, my Stephanie :*
Thank you so much, dear Gloria, I am fascinated by your rich and intriguing observation. An artist once said something like: in the Balkans the centuries are not following one after another , but are intersecting, woven into one another. Somehow surviving gives birth to a primal, passionate thirst for life. Kisses
wisdom in song is a very tricky business and adding to it a seductive vein is marvelous
Thank you, Dom, this one was very tricky indeed, it's an honor to have you here. Kisses
great poem, no doubt!
Thank you, Iulia, means a lot from a poet of your echelon. Kiss kiss
Nice!
Oh I wanted to comment on this artist's perceptive comment on the Balkans as i find it true seeing it much in the Greeks and often wanted to say comeon - you are still living in all the centuries past and your great history...other have also great history...move on....but then as you praised passion, passion creates great art and poetry...so in the wrong there must be right...some people preserving identity whereas others loose it...especiall now with this 'globalism.' Again the passion that creates arts lives forever...so it is all of a beautiful paradox the Balkans...lol
Oh, Greece is something utterly magical, it replenishes the soul with powerful imagination. The world, it's all terrifying and wondrous in the same time, the dynamic of life that is full of live substance, the impeccable beauty of chaos, we need to see that to understand our humanity, it's painful sometimes, but exciting.
Purrrr....
lovely n impressive
Meow :) Thank you, Gentlemen, very kind of you :*
nice poem Natasa... very well painted character in a mode of passion and being ruthless.. congratulation my dear :)
Thank you, Shiv, was an attempt to film in words the passion to live beyond the scheme
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