haiku

mistletoe-decked hearth – a widow, over again, stirring the embers   © 2014 Liliana Negoi

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haiku

swift, a butterfly – in the corner of my eye a shadow fading © 2014 Liliana Negoi

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A rhyme – sonnet

I need a rhyme, a goddamn word to match The tender desert of my inner world, A syllable my itchy mind to scratch And stretch a bit my wry persona curled Around its tail, in ouroboric pose. I need the perfect shade of red to zest The utter grayness of a life that goes In … Continue reading

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Wednesday pondering – on mine and yours

I felt the urge of writing this because lately everybody around me seems so fondly attached to objects and feels the need to express possession of those – “my TV”, “my phone”, “my house”, “my room”, “my car”, “my, my, my…” and so on. As if any of those “earthly treasures” can somehow define who … Continue reading

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tramp

boredom tastes like carious streets and fences with rusty flowers and houses from behind which windows words are afraid to show themselves, because they don’t want their bitter-sweet shapes, yellowing corners of voice, to be judged. but sounds don’t let themselves killed that easily, they don’t let themselves be buried under the line of cracks … Continue reading

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Wednesday pondering – on flower power

This morning I took my coffee and went to drink it in front of my house, enjoying some minutes of peace and quiet before the day starting to unfold. Some weeks ago I took outside the house some geraniums, and put them on a shelf near my entrance, and today I was watching them, thinking … Continue reading

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“Cream of wordflakes” – free for reading

About Cream of Wordflakes: – to be served with a mint leaf and/or cinnamon sifted on top – Sounds sweet, doesn’t it? Well, believe me, it’s not. Or not always. Because not all words are always sweet, and because we don’t need only sweetness on this world. There are other tastes too, that require our … Continue reading

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lost footsteps

lost footsteps don’t get lost – they just hide under layers of sand and fractured clay waiting for the right time in order to blossom again on paths leading in all directions.   lost footsteps have a particular perfume, of shivers and echoes within long and empty hallways, crashing against oil painted walls and going … Continue reading

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i do not know – sonnet

i do not know what love is. i would lie if i began to praise its light and wonder and hide behind some artificial sigh pretending that my soul’s been torn asunder by any of its charms in all my life. not even once along my days (or nights) deigned love to show its beauty, … Continue reading

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salty sonnet

the future crumbles in my rusty thoughts – one cannot think of future when the past is conquering your grounds at much too fast a pace. the blood inside you slowly clots, and while regrets were once just distant dots they quickly turn into a view so vast that overwhelms your mind, and soon you … Continue reading

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