is my eye too rusty? is my thought too blunt? is my inkpot empty and my will too broken? has the rising sun become too small a token of the truth to utter daily out front? is my pen too tired? is my night too long? is the dream that lingered one too many wakings … Continue reading →
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one hour till dawn break, and my sleep has once again forgotten me, and once again my inner keep has yielded to the thoughts that creep like an awakened colony raised from the deep. my iris puddles like a mere and liquid nests of shadows bloom into the core of every tear escaping salty from … Continue reading →
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each of our shadows is but a wound within the flesh of light, and within that wound we hide spores of hopes and wishes and call them dreams. at the golden corner of each day we look towards the East and cut with our hearts up to the very marrow of the sky – and … Continue reading →
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and if i saw with other eyes, if i thought with another mind or flew with another longing, would you look behind? would you count my eye blinks? would you forgive my waking? if i called things by their name – the rock be soul and the wind be dream – would you recognize yourself … Continue reading →
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the dust in my yard smells like the death bed of spring, lazy and unusually hot and clinging to the feet and feathers of sparrows sometimes bathing in it. a worm, crawling along the soft peel of a tomato, rotting in a corner, is just as tender as the eye of one of those sparrows … Continue reading →
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cyanotic whispers slither between heartbeats like a river ribbonning its shores among almond trees and night sways its liquid ebony hips over endless fields of thoughts – if we could stop the flow of sand how would we ever know that one perfect grain at which to break the hourglass? on my shoulder the song … Continue reading →
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so many colors in the forest from afar – the tea getting cold © Liliana Negoi...
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thoughts leak their marrow in the silent room – where are the shadows of the foretime dreams? among the roots and branches of the gloom, among the gleams of yesterday’s perfume, where is the hope? what shallow salty streams became its tomb? when did my heart such bitterness befriend? the lightness of my youth, … Continue reading →
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Ca nu cumva “Carbon” să se simtă prea singură, a mai apărut, de ieri, pe pagina Gazetei SF, încă o povestire de-a subsemnatei, pe numele său “Primìtia”, din care las mai jos câteva rânduri şi apoi link-ul către conţinutul complet. Mulţumiri, încă o dată, redactorilor (Alexandru Lamba şi Teodora Matei), pentru încrederea acordată! […] — … Continue reading “Primìtia” în Gazeta SF →
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Unii din cunoscuţii mei ştiu că, o bucată bună de timp, am încercat să finalizez o povestire SF numită Carbon. Începând de ieri, textul este publicat pe pagina Gazetei SF, unde domnul Alexandru Lamba şi doamna Teodora Matei, după ce au citit-o şi puricat-o, mi-au făcut onoarea să o accepte :). Vă las aici un … Continue reading “Carbon” în Gazeta SF →
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there are days when not enough shadow falls from the shoulders of trees and there’s nowhere you can hide from your thoughts. the taste of coffee, no matter how strong, how sweet, is only black, and seconds crash along its backbone – the wind carries the scent of drought as if it were a parasite, … Continue reading →
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under the heel of tomorrow you look and you sigh and all that you know becomes dust – the ever changing veins of roads tango around your pulse and you look and you sigh and all that you know has always some other shape, some other scent, maybe even some other name, but you know … Continue reading →
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Un câine schelălăie-n noapte flămând, iar luna pe cer juri că-i sânge. Pe drum, un copil calcă-ncet, tremurând – e singur, şi-obrazu-i e supt, şi plângând la piept o trăistuţă tot strânge. Şi caută-ntruna la fiece pas o mână mai prietenoasă, să-i şteargă cu milă durerea din glas, şi caută, bietul copil de pripas, da-n … Continue reading Pe drum →
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‘Twas but a match that stood between our senses, A match that shivered, waiting to be lit And at its turn to torch the stubborn fences Preventing our two lifelines to befit. “Let there be fire!”, begged silently each heartbeat, “Let there be flames!”, was written in our eyes, But spoken words were like the … Continue reading →
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Am revenit zilele trecute pe meleagurile natale după câteva zile splendide petrecute la Dublin, în compania unor oameni tare faini pe care am avut şansa de a-i cunoaşte cu ocazia Premiilor Organizaţiei “Itaca” Dublin. Oamenii faini de care vorbesc sunt în primul rând organizatorii, Viorel Ploeşteanu şi Doria Şişu Ploeşteanu, din ale căror inimi sigur … Continue reading Cu drag cu oameni dragi :) →
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