Would you think me wise
if I was 1000 years old
bent like a child’s straw?
Would you think I was
beautiful with fairy tale
hair white as snow and skin
as washed out as paste?
Would you fall asleep
at night by counting my
endless wrinkles, wonder
if I would wake up with you?
The weather turns colder
And he brings home the
Yearly pile of logs
He’ll hack into pieces and
Toss into a fire,
Not because he wants to
Gather with his loved ones
Around the hearth,
Not because he needs
The heat to stay warm,
It’s just that he
Only knows how to
Reduce things to ashes.
More minimalist poetry at https://www.unconventionalbeing.com.
Turning pages of the book
Titled ‘My Life’
Shaky hands felt
The brisk pages,
Many unknown things
Were engraved,
Still remain unknown,
Many commitments
Were buried
Buried deep in
The ocean, the life.
Pages of joy
Are still missing,
Maybe lost in this
Lightning world
I missed my train
Now travelling
In a mastless boat,
Lagging, directionless.
The helping hand,
Is now an illusion.
Sailing through the
Endless ocean,
No hope, no destination.
I am reading it for you
From my unknown destiny
Wishing you all luck,
From the poor guy
Time to greet goodbye
I have Done nothing
Great in my life
Push my book aside
Move ahead
You have destiny at sight.
I am sorry to all those people in my life
I can’t live up to your expectations
I am not a good Son, brother and friend.
What have you got
A penny, a dime
Is money all that’s on your mind?
Give life a shot
Quit thinking about what’s mine
Start thinking about the crime
That escalates as we read
As we breathe
As we brush our teeth
Give it a shot
Give it all you’ve got
Even if someone perfect is someone you’re not
Keep it real
Think about it over your next meal
Look, life’s all we’ve got
A flurry cartoon echo
of the timid spoon –
mustard piano old!
Pluck the frog brew;
quiet the tray!
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend V.D.
The glow of your smile
It adds a glitter to my world.
Smile again and again!
Lazy lashes wide opened
Dreamy eyes
Looking through the magic box
Saw a crafted painting
A perfect masterpiece of work
Vibrant colours, perfect strokes
Reserved a space in my heart
Butterflies were playing hide and seek
In the lap of nature
Sun was ready for the charming day
Clouds poked me for a heavenly date
Moon, behind the curtain blushed
Her unfathomable grace
Adds a spark,
Its time to greet goodbye
Show ended
Actors bowed
Applause welcomed the beginning
mother fried them
in butter
like everything else
they started as brown
and webbed
then were rolled
and carefully breaded
we ate them at the small
metal table
my father made for her
always patently
domestic in his gifts
The kid can’t sit
down – neither
can I –
the world can’t be
still – full of color
and light flooding
– who can rest in
a world of shouting
voices – ?
