Postcard with insomnia

“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei

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2

Postcard with insomnia

I've forgotten a word on my lips

while I was sliding into the sleep

the dream had no titles

I was no human any more

A leaf lounging on the lake

pushed by a paddle in a mad dance...

freeze the frame

the kid is howling into the night

the heart is jumping out of chest...

she wants to drink water

I'm spinning in a mad dance

with thousands of whispers

the sleep is left on the lake

I am human again sliding into the night

stop


3

About a father's sicken soul

I have erased his memory from my soul

keep telling myself he didn't left marks there

He might be dead now! I don't even care...

has been dissolved, has been evaporated

Dust on a blade forgotten in sun

The Blood

the one that unites us...

It does not, I tell you!

It's an illusion!

Between us only the arrowheads remained

with their poisons always activated by the saliva of

the one who troughs away the glove

Here comes the strike that blows off the compromise!

It is like I listen to the same hate record

only now, the voice is hissing

as the snake takes over that man

who once was my father...

Every day it gets clearer

forgiveness can't happen

there where it has been broken;

it has been humiliated and spit

the blood...

Infuriated, the D.N.A bent over his serpentine

so, I've liberated myself!


4

Trust

You put your heart into my hands

you trusted me to ease the pains

what can I pour on your wounds?

The honey of my voice,

the warmth of my eyes?!

I am too afraid to hurt the air

with sounds of my lips kissing

the empty space of despair

wait till the next beat of your heart

will touch my inner ear

then I'll burst in love!


5

The winter is near...

The world seems friendly tonight

when cold owns the streets,

I sit near the window sipping the darkness

as black coffee hot in the morning,

cold was the word of the week

coughing and sneezing

my kid turned the nights

into deep seas of fear,

tonight the cold arrived to its end

the world is friendly again

the winter is near.


6

My muse... out of order!

Maybe, tomorrow my muse will come,

maybe, such a word full of hope...

My muse runs away when the grey sky,

dirty and smelly streets come my way

she gets smaller and smaller, melting her essence into the drain

when cursing is the music that the streets play

surely, my muse will come tomorrow

with her smile bringing sun on the colourless sky

Maybe I'll be home for her!

Home such a comfy feeling...


7

The Dragon nightmare

I wish I've been a dragon lost somewhere in a castle

I wish I've been a dragon starring in the mirrors

burning with my breath the curtains

I wish I've been a dragon flying over seas

finding nest in the princess eye

who else but a dragon can fall in love

with the wrong girl, in the worst moment

when the prince cuts his throat merciless

taking the girl as war prize

living the dragon in his own black blood

missing his flight in the princess night

who else but a dragon could I wish to be?!


8

The abyss of one

I am alone in my narrow word

who to compare my shadow with

do I need more than one...

new is my coat but the inside?!!


9

Letter to my mother, the only inhabitant of heaven!

Mother,

let me build your heaven!

You would be a butterfly

caressed by the sun

and the snake frozen by your sight

would lose his poison

The entire view would borrow its colour

from the your wing's rainbow

The rest you should find it into my palms

there you would tuck in with my soul

I should watch your sleep together

with the grey and curly doggy

for nourishment I should serve you my eyes

my tears you'll drink to calm the thirst ...

Yes, mother, with your permission,

I will build you the heaven!


10

The crock

"Now" is a round word

waiting for the splinter

to burst its beginning

rolling the vowel like a damnation

we take upon us the guilt of

overwhelming

in desolation we retreat ourselves

stretched traps for the few!


11

"Damn it..."

The kid is angry

the shoe is no fit for the doll

the pink gown is no match for the green purse

big sorrow

I am smiling

I am at ease the kid is playing

there in her room

She built her fairy

here comes the prince on his white horse

Everywhere good fairies flying

Mother, I'm hungry

And here I have a part in this play

I am feeding a princess,

a little terrorist, one and ten high( in cm)

whom I always have to remember that

sentences do not begin with " I want "

"Please, mother

turn on the cartoons"

"I will give you chocolate if you eat the apple"

"We won't go in park if you don't take a nap"

"Tell me what's next to three if you want to play dice games..."

That’s how we negotiate

me, the dragon mom with the beast-princess

together urging for break

the day when the kinder garden is starting!


12

Illusions

We don't need dreams...

They are like a disease

it sticks on your blood

cutting deep into your

long orifice of the pupil.

Dreams...

They are crushing our leaves

Spit the spine

Mirroring us in thousand of shreds

The pyres are fired

The ashes have the same taste

The stacks have holy faces

In the air, the apples are sour....


13

Words

I am scarred

blank page in front of me

waiting my words

today, a good day

someone told me

I am hungry for your words

give me more

from where do they come

these words with their dance, with their music

with their passion through my blood

that make my eyes moist and misty

so I lose control

Am I addicted to this state of mind?

Are they my medicine against death,

my cry for help cast throw the universe?

Today, a good day

all the rocks that spin around us

are deaf!


14

At last...

Our bones' story is waiting to be read

Sadly, nobody will feel de urge to find out

the trivial sequence of happenings that we lived

The still puzzled dinosaurs are reflecting the grim clash of the ice age

that is the prime time news of their bones

The last flash news is yet to come...

Our bones won't be read

The time will suspend its dimension

The sun, the terrorist, will stop the clock by explosion

Tic, Tic

Disappearance in two steps

The dinosaurs were choked by snow

We will slowly burn

In ashes we will return as established before

And the ashes, is known, has nothing to tell

In the newborn vacuum it will float, it will spread

the silence

There, in void

silence at last!


15

Prelude...

The rain penetrates...

On my skin

long marks are,

hard smells...

the thrill is in the thunder

give me your lips

to sneak the liquor in

the bitterness of a teeth

stuck deep in my flesh...


16

The intruder

To chase me out they would like

I stand across their throats

yet, they have no guts

to stare with their eye like a splinter

they keep the knives hidden

polish them every day

they would like my blood to wash their feet

and my eyes to crush the punches

I ignore their existence, suffering, hatred

useless they whip my surface

won't demolish the temple

I even laugh of their fierce swarming

They dig me, bury me

I, yet alive,

breath and defy them

From the top

it seems an endless comedy


17

Butterflies

We were between us the flatterers

We lick our faces

In a compact circle of lies

The sunrise found us tired

With the cigar's smoke in the mirror

Waiting for the liquid fire to burst

We were some stiffs with dried out tongues

eardrums stuffed with words

We were tending to the blue with burned eyelids

The soul was squeezed from us

now draining into the parquet cracks

We were noble dust with coquette scent


18

Lately

I always wake up with the same question

in my mind

why don't I deserve any...

And all the others

accuse me of ungratefulness

I admit

Nothing works for me

Nobody is good enough ...

To put my head on a pillow

To sleep

To wake up restful

Not to fear

Is it too much to ask, I wonder

I probably don't deserve it!

I have to run

to lose my breath

to sit down only in the car that drives me to the work

to sleep only when the bus stop is red

Restful only when the kid is smiling

sliding on the slider...

I probably don't deserve

a time

to be human

I am a mom...


19

The cactus flower day...

Today I've made a cactus

The blood sprang out

and painted the thorns as flowers

I flew up to the skies and from above

that stain rich for perfection

I am an artist, I said

What else could I do with my own blood

on this earth ...

In what should I reflect my infinity?!

And suddenly I felt an urge for blue

I called it water

water, earth, cactus...

I'll leave for tomorrow the clay

that will shape up the Predator

I'll leave for the last day

the birth of the monster that will destroy my garden

Still, I'll keep it just for me

Only my celestial eyes to be sting by cactus flowers

and from their wound to be borne angels

to fly together

to breath the fairness of this last day

The cactus flower day...


20

God’s innocence in a sense

Was god innocent when created the universe?

Is innocence a disease that fades away when time is running out

and dirt penetrates our flash?

Is innocence that died when the apple touch our lips?

If still the innocence would run through our veins

would we appreciate the godly deed?!!

So, again I wonder how innocent was god

when he forbidden us the tree?!!


21

The girl from the bus said: Yes!

The girl from the bus said: Yes!

Yes! I've lifted up my arm

I've hung tight by the metallic bar

I am in the bus

and someone stick his nose as if he wishes

with all his being to enter my arm pit

Yes, my blouse is so translucent

And its transparency leaves out my greenish body

Yes, I am a fresh flower from the fields

That your city nose suffocated by asphalt wouldn't smell ever

Yes, caress me all with your breath in the canicular squeeze

as if a hair dryer will spin to my neck

touch me with your sober up poet thoughts

We still have an entire yard of hugs

and a thousand dreams in the horizons....

Too bad,

you and your shirt written with a stupid logo

will lose yourself in a late reverie

without poetry...


22

I can't write about autumn

I can't write about autumn when we are in the middle of July

and his incandescent air is torturing my noon hours

I can't write about autumn when alone in my humid sheets,

in my suffocating nights I fight the insomnia

I can't write about autumn when I long for its cold mornings

for its long and red sunsets, for its multicolour leaves

for its anticipation of winter holidays

I can't write about autumn when lonesome in my life, in my dreams

I am paralysed with fear and shivers of cold autumns are sighing in my ears...

The empty bench under the colourful tree of autumn is a wish

about how my life should be

so; I am waiting for that autumn when leaves can whisper happiness


23

Prayer

I've danced with my feet in the flames

sniffing

My skin sizzling

My blood in this way

it was redder,

shier

The stones had a sense

in this saint drama,

they were defying us

I left my trace in the palm

and I squeezed as hard as I could

I remained a dust

on the others lips

Spit with veneration

in the mirror

On the street

the rivers are gathering...

And once more

the evening prayer


24

Equilibrium

Rare gaze over the edge

a dance on tip toes between two moods

you choose

be happy

take a spin in steps of tango

be desperate...

Sometimes simply being is a difficult process

Equilibrium

A state of soul emerged in seas of feathers

Pillows to soften the gap

One shore has the storm

On the other... the dream is on


25

It might be

It might be somewhere a wound

in the centre where the spring comes out

it might be that the soul coagulates

to the bone

and out there beyond the windows caressed by the sun

the happening takes place in slow pace

the despair that arises from broken glasses

stings the sunset...

And then it will flow...


26

Playful...

Your smooth touch...

your eye is dressing me with white feathers

slowly, slowly you're shrouding me

as a tomcat in search of a victim

You dance a mad dance on the edge of the lip

Sniffed by a hungry beast

I dare, I squeeze, I run ...

you tenderly besiege my figure

and craving, you sip the very proper prey

I...

Thousands suns seem to smile to me

Now that I give in to you,

Abandoned in...


27

Come, my friend!

Come, my friend,

enter my temple!

Light candles on my opened wounds

opened to the crowds

come!

I have a story for you

stay calm into the shadows of my walls

I'll pour only love whispers in your ear

Forget your sunny desert

Come!

Into the dark dropped from the mirror

come!

in the story there is enough place

for one more destiny

Up there, under my temple's roof will be our oasis

and the sound of their tears will be the spring

from where the storyteller begins

Come here in deep shadow

Put your soul in my palms

I'll return it enhanced with the smoke of my ashes

Come! Have no fear

my temple is echoing just for you!


28

Letter to a most respected poet

Oh, dear poet, your love of us,

mortal creatures with nasty smells,

with looks like devils disguised in angels,

or the other way around,

dusty and furious and most of all, lusty

approaches you to god himself

Why is my question, why are you still

singing a virtue that never been ours

only your perfect reflection in the mirrors

of heavenly waters?

I hope we meet in our next journey

through human meadows

hope that milk will spring in our galaxy

finally


29

The panic at the end of the world...

The world is ruined inside us

The drums announce the end in an infernal pace

Muezzin voice crying from the minarets

Bells desperately pounding

Cross made with sweaty hands

The Sabbath is rest for Eloim

The world is ruined inside us

quietly

each lie

each crime

with every cowardly

The world is ruined

God will recreate it if he wants

right now

only if he wants...


30

Love song

Who needs love?

I most certainly don't!

My definition of love:

it is an illness, a psychiatric one

Can you imagine: to be addicted to a person seems OK!!!

instead smoking is a dangerous addiction

Both are lethal sometimes

Now I heard that love only takes three years

Some hormone is no longer produce after a while

Exactly as in any sickness

Bad news: you can't fight hormones

So I was in love, probably soon

love will infect me again

Is very sad when suddenly you wake up

with a total smelly stranger next to you

who behaves like he owns you

That's a crap moment

Who needs love?

I most certainly don't!

The prince turned to frog!


31

Never enough...

Never enough

Never enough

always hunger for more

I am a collector of fulfilled desires

running in a hurry to the next glittering piece of

nothing

I feel dead only when my pockets are empty

of lust

Possessing is my drug

I'm yours, she's mine

Is the song that pours honey into my veins

So, intoxicated I turned to the ground

Waiting for the dust to bite me.


32

The Black hole

I need to explain this world

to put myself in my place

in my spot in this universe

I need to believe there is a order

A scheme

for which every atom joins another atom

for which every bee flies over her flower only

for which I take every breath one at the time

for which I still hope that love is the centre

of every galaxy

even if we've chosen to call it

The Black hole


33

New galaxies

It's late in night

Dark sky with clouds hiding indifferent stars

Covers my dried out eyes

dried out of hope, of dreams

dried out by endless pain

"my neck is relaxed "

"my neck is relaxed "

I have to repeat over and over again

to escape from the terrible torment

Fear of death, fear of suffering

all my life is a dance on the edge

Where is the promised happiness?

What is this shadow that I'm chasing like crazy?

It's late in night

the game of snooker is over

stars are crushing into each other

new galaxies are borne

so that explains the firecrackers in my eyes...


34

A new trip

I lost track of time

I lost myself in the vertigo of everyday life

who am I?

What do I want to take with me from this well defined journey?

Are there answers for these simple questions?

I could continue this way all along...

so many like me...

The earth is still spinning

the sun is still burning

death is a refuge

sweet emptiness

bits and bits of anonymous dust

so being humble and simple it is

just a rehearsal before a new trip


35

A glimpse of heaven

April flower so pure, so clean is your flavour

In an instant you sent me back to youth

My wings are spread again and I return

to ancient times

The flight I take when I can feel your grassy smell

when white and yellow, pink drops of colour touch my eye

Is like a spin from a perfect tornado

Is like a rain sprung from god's eyes

tears of Eden...

So, what on Earth do I need more?!

A glimpse of heaven pouring butterflies in my life


36

Enjoying life

The truth comes to me with so many mouths

so many colourful tongues

it jumps out from so many mirrors

so I'm confused

do I have an option?!

Can I bargain a new truth, my own

Can I ignore all the other truths

you may certainly try

but

are you prepared to pay the prize?

From my experience with the history

any new truth was borne in a blood bath

As far as I am concern

establishing that truth is only a convention

I choose to free myself by

Living

enjoying life truth by truth


37

The pill

Take the pill- he said

the pill that keeps you inside the system

keeps you calm, keeps you from asking questions

In fact what is the truth

A convention, a mutual agreed fact

Tomorrow another bargain, another truth

but now, to stay inside this system

you have to swallow this pill

this little lie together with that little lie

swallowed by you day by day

till you'll need no more truth

-Give me the pill, he cried

- I can't cope with this world

So, it all resumes in what pill

you decide to begin a new day

the truth then will have its colour


38

Nothing

Nothing came to me

It was smooth

It was humid and warm

I let myself embraced by

Nothing

Empty defines a volume

So, nothing came to me as a void

kissed me, abandoned me into a bliss

I, myself, let go any strings that may have attached me

to the grounds ...

Nothing is the perfect suitor

Anonymous, odourless lover

The one who is a pleasure to wait

for more or less a whole summer


39

Old age

prisoner of my bad temper

in search of my light past

when I used to laugh my tears out

everything was a reason for laughter

jokes on everyone

I was the soul of the party

the champagne was in my eyes

now the joke is on me

I've suddenly realized that

laughter had abandon the ship

I enjoy only the sound of a quiet evening

alone...


40

The dance poem

her round arm circling the air

her oval, pale face - a dream, a flight of butterflies

she is spinning...

spinning on my windy thoughts

music takes us on cosmic rides

her immaculate ballerina dress pours drops of happiness

rain and sun are all around

take me dear in your dance!


41

Middle life

Now it's a time in my life when my engines

run slowly

In fact I have energy just to watch others pass by

to watch leaves turning green

to really breath the air and sense the smell of a fresh born flower

Now I run the movie of my life backwards

I'm stunt how always in a hurry I used to be

obsessed to be free, nobody to interfere in my way

Now when I am tired, and maybe smarter and for sure older

I stopped by the river side, watched my face in the watery mirror

and cried.


42

About kindness

The bread is warm,

Bread is good

Steamy and appealing to your nostrils

And I do not know why you're happy

A little

It's good, it's hot

It's almost as sweet as a mother

And it's a sunny autumn

A little cold

But at your breast hot bread you carry

And it's good that you sink

In childhood nearby your mother

When your father was the empty field

And milk from bottle you drunk unfolding the lid

And it's hot

And sticky and steamy

And you become almost

Friendly in the autumn...


43

I can't write about autumn

I can't write about autumn when we are in the middle of July

and his incandescent air is torturing my noon hours

I can't write about autumn when alone in my humid sheets,

in my suffocating nights I fight the insomnia

I can't write about autumn when I long for its cold mornings

for its long and red sunsets, for its multicolour leaves

for its anticipation of winter holidays

I can't write about autumn when lonesome in my life, in my dreams

I am paralysed with fear and shivers of cold autumns are sighing in my ears...

The empty bench under the colourful tree of autumn is a wish

about how my life should be

so, I am waiting for that autumn when leaves can whisper happiness


44

What an irony!!!

so, we are in nuclear crises

an economical crises

a spring crises

and in this state of affair

I am writing poetry

what an irony

I am contemplating skies waiting for fluffy white clouds

To pour tears of death in our grounds

I am writing poetry

what an irony

They are crying for help, starving and chocking with white smelly ashes

Death is inside them

Once more

I am writing poetry

what an irony

The sun had exploded

The radio cloud had passed

The trees had blossomed

What an irony

I am writing poetry ...


45

In their cherry shadow

Cherries to stick my teeth in

their meat, their red Stream fill

my lips with comfort delights

Perfect kiss...

I drown in their blood

The righteous muscle of utterance

It is an act of love

Cherry frail body to knead

Trapped in our solar fury

It is an act of debauchery

The detachment from the core

The future begins his story

Once it will come back

To crush its creature into my mouth

I promise to wait for an orchard

to leave my ashes

Resting

In their cherry shadow


46

Mourning

My soul is stacked

vertigo is my second nature

chewing, talking, drunk ...

into a wound end

when you get down the collar

is the question that rang in my ears all the time

as if they care

that I carry on my neck like Atlas

the land

suddenly I am old with half a century

my mother seems more alive

in any case she can carry a loaf

tingle, tingle

my left ear

the nostrils, cold shivers creeping

comes ... comes for the second time

the infernal pain

explode

I reached a point

which pain infuriates me

I feel my neck is hot

pulsating in rhythm of despair

cry

tingle, tingle my left ear

my eyes flow

I am stuffed with pills

waiting for tomorrow migraine


47

The ear infection

Do you feel my pain?

You make me laugh!

My pain will never rest into your vein

Only the shadow of my torture will cross your way

my pain is just my pain

I am selfish about it

I don't share my earthquakes, my dark shivers

the knives splitting my brains

No, no, I am sure

This pain is no toy for you

Do you hear?!

My ear is singing

the migraine is here to stay

Let us dance death for dinner

Breakfast in bad temper

Supper in vain ...

Do you still feel my pain?

Do I still hear my cry for help?

Dissolution in crocodile's tears!


48

She knows!

In my roads

I pass by a sad street lantern

I don't know why it is sad

Maybe because

almost like in a hug

someone stays close to it borrowing its colour

It's midday

and his eyes are extinct

I feel how he vibrates

inside him is a tension

Something under his feet is moving, shudders the shadow

He would have smiled...

I sense some fluffy pity under my skin

for the man stuck in the lanterns

Helplessness

I pass forward

and leave behind sad perfumes

it’s all I could do....


49

Anonymous the lover is transmitting from the sight

Another day to watch

the wind dancing in her hair

to breath the air that follows her

to keep it in my lungs

for just a second

I'm stunt on this piece of side walk

one with the lighting tree

Another day

The heat of second is bursting in my ear

When I watch her coming ...

And jolly is her figure

Full of promise the day is

Humble, I let myself vanish

into her eyes' depth

And thrown away into the skies a second later

a stranger for I am just

Yes, but I was there in her sight

and that's a victory

The seed for many dreams

here, under the lighting tree


50

In the air

I feel it in the air

in this wind that tickles

caresses and heals

the frozen soul


My nostrils smell

The deserted eye is defrosting

and everything gets

colour


the spring fortune

It's green in my taste

It's green in my smell

My ear is dancing with green

New leaves are shimmering

the petals are trembling

Today

We are lucky

In spring


51

The Spring Exercise

I should be happy

the trees have blossomed

over the town the odours are floating

Fragrances of joyful yellow, white, flowers

I should be sad

Walking down the city's alley

Ugly by our gas emission

I should be joyful

The kids have an infinite appetite for play

It is peace

I should be sad

The cancer is doing his work

in the town people are hiding their scalp

under the ugliest scarf

I am and I should exist

the town is on my nerves

Today I cast away the garbage

I am lighter with a bit of dust

Which I await to breath it back

The first corner of the street

It's spring


52

The wolf

I have cold blood

On my lips I were

unravel wolf's signs

I sell myself in each winter

by the teeth

and bite the curse

from the fruit

I guess the luck in your palm

and paste it on my forehead,

the autumn's fortune

Love

in my spine with seeds alive

and the eye is calling me

drooling for another day

I have cold blood

My warm body is free

from his bones

On the wolf's lip


53

Dead or alive game

First

I had no legs

just an immense stiffness

The helplessness annoy me

Choke me to death

They all put honey into their voices

Their damnation was oozing on their eyelashes

Hope was caught in stitches

And death is drinking a bear on "Happy hours'

The mattress took out its thorns to the fair

They mangle my bones

Now I was nothing

but a bag full of worms

with some order in it

From time to time

They twist me

Bath me

They kept the appearance of a body

Should I go on telling the story

About the smells and the sludge...

How I was starring myself from the sealing...

I would have drink champagne

And caviar

I would have eaten

Instead

Drops of water they put on my lips

The good ones

The bad ones

All together

Why hadn't I a button

An off button

My only relief

In death I was carrying

all that in me was unstoppable


54

In the end, my cell's war

I won

Then in that January

When for me

" Young and restless"

Was over!


55

The migraine

I will wait until

The darkness will twist

Its roots into the land of my eyes

Sucked by the wind

Like a sweet caress I'll stretch

Between the dry surfaces of the pupil

Dried by the dreams

I'll squeeze myself for a scream

Halls in the runaway

Will open into the my artery's

Madness

And blood will burst

Infuriated


56

The dream

I've split a dream in two

The seeds were chewing the sunset

The fruit's thrust it was bitter

I've understood the sadness as fruit

Into the rusty fall

Away is the love

Useless melancholy of the stinky meadows

The maiden prayer's is like a wind

Cut by the sins

The whip won't touch the humble

Love is a thorn from our ribbons

I've understood but too late

The world had reached its spine

We've remained the taste of our wishes only

And we've longed for the sin

Only by desire ever since


57

Since

Since the air

Still caresses us

And the leave tickles our eye

And the apple spreads his aroma still

I propose to forget

Forget then that in every breath we take

The poison is in triumph

Forget then that the leaf

Could turn into a spear

For your eye

Forget then that the worm

Carved his way to the treasure

In the flesh of your apple

Since death

Has no taste, aroma or colour

It only remains

To cook it

As we prefer


58

Unpopulated heaven

I think people have invented death to get vengeance on God

what a sacrifice he made to abolish the ugly border

He even put his blood on the cross

what have we learned from here?

We add in the torture book a new way to enjoy death

We are the Maestro, we induce and produce pain

with the artisan's finesse

And,

revenge after revenge, we destroy any chance

to return there...

Where the tools of pain are only the snake's thorns


59

I miss the summer...

I miss the summer

That June day

In my wedding gown

The smell of happiness

All around us

New life

New taste

Champagne

The kiss

I miss the summer rain

A shower to wake me up

Too late

That day of summer

A bubble carrying a dream of happiness

Flew away

Turned back as a bitter memory


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Watching the sky everyday...

I am watching the sky everyday

waiting for it to speak to me

and it is silent, dropping

into my eyes blue poisons

I feel like I'm becoming

a snake

unable to fly

only to drag with me the heavenly wonder

I am cold, doomed to lose myself

through the corners,

The nostalgic circles


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Date post:	16-Mar-2016
Category:	Documents
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Postcard with insomnia

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