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My soul – The country of the rising words
The old streets of our life or the new streets of our life?
Fri, 27 Jan 2023 21:16:16 +0000
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My soul – The country of the rising words
https://workofday.wordpress.com
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“Terrible World” by Benjamin Zephaniah
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2013/06/17/terrible-world-by-benjamin-zephaniah/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2013/06/17/terrible-world-by-benjamin-zephaniah/#comments
Mon, 17 Jun 2013 19:26:13 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=325
I wrote about this poet on my Romanian blog – plutacupaparude – where I “post” my own poems. His poems are disturbing, I already read two books – Too Black, Too Strong and PROPA PROPAGANDA – and almost everything I found about him on the Internet. For me, Benjamin Zephaniah is a modern-day François Villon.
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2013/06/17/terrible-world-by-benjamin-zephaniah/feed/
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‘Fire and Ice’ by Robert Frost
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/12/07/fire-and-ice-by-robert-frost/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/12/07/fire-and-ice-by-robert-frost/#comments
Thu, 06 Dec 2012 23:15:58 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=275
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desires
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
It is one of my favorite poem. Shortly, sharply and directly.
Not to many words, but a sincere exteriorisation.
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https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/12/07/fire-and-ice-by-robert-frost/feed/
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On Sunday
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/12/03/on-sunday/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/12/03/on-sunday/#comments
Sun, 02 Dec 2012 22:19:23 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=222
It’s a fresh rainy evening
I climb up to the nacreous clouds
you stay lean on your elbow you are famous
you write in your notebook:
‘nothing could be simpler than this water notebook
it’ll be sun tomorrow her words will disappear’
I climb up to the stones I’m soaking wet I tremble
stones tremble you tremble
wolves of December look at
us with sad-eyes
I arrived home I closed every window
the magic spell writing session is now open
till on the next world I have an open house for
those who want to read
‘The Diary of The Endless Sunday’
by Ela Roseni
P.S. A resounding Sunday
(read here in Romanian)
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/12/03/on-sunday/feed/
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On Friday
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/on-friday/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/on-friday/#comments
Fri, 30 Nov 2012 13:39:28 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=201
my body is a place of constant protest
all last night I wove the frost in your hair
and it was well. and it was one night
which has fed us with white blizzard plants we saw a lot of people like us – freezing on the big playing field of the illusions we could see the universes in motion the places of constant protests we are standing in our frost nest we are eating some of the apples of winter and we are drinking rum till walls of tobacco turn white everything is white. an uninterrupted strip of white paper a white pool in which we are safely entering to pick water lilies and irritate swans we don’t know on what day we are we don’t remember in which day we met and I cannot write my name on you. and you cannot write your name on me
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/on-friday/feed/
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On Thursday
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/on-thursday/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/on-thursday/#comments
Thu, 29 Nov 2012 23:42:46 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=192
there are the paper clouds
where I write words with the black wine
the angels will read the angels will recite
my poems
the angels will get drunk with my poems!
it’s Thursday in the city of dark glass
and it is snowing now in the city of rains
in my veins other worlds grow up
unblindfold
untill the morning
the grey city will be covered by paper –
the signs of writing
(read in Romanian here )
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/on-thursday/feed/
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On Wednesday
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/28/on-wednesday/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/28/on-wednesday/#comments
Wed, 28 Nov 2012 21:11:38 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=176
It’s raining. I am going out on the balcony. Black angel, don’t rebuke me! I’m so thirsty!
I am hearing thousand of white horses and the fight dogs of the city
And the Subway has no destination
a golden beetle is sitting motionless on my sleeve
black angel, don’t drag me in the sand of clepsydra!
black angel, don’t drag me in the sky!
don’t feed me with so many chimeras!
I am singing on the balcony about
this sleepless night
which I inebriate with a bottle of sweet wine
from the cellar of thoughts squashed by the quiet lights
(read Romanian version here)
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/28/on-wednesday/feed/
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DSCN1199
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On Monday/Lunea
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/25/on-mondaylunea/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/25/on-mondaylunea/#comments
Sun, 25 Nov 2012 21:50:24 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=163
In every Monday/ In fiecare zi de luni
I write about the roads of the dry forest/ scriu despre drumurile din padurea uscata
A brown squirrel runs through the room/ o veverita maro alearga prin camera
It stops near my desk smashes nuts/ se opreste langa biroul meu sparge alune
a white wolf with bright eyes sits on my scarf/ un lup alb cu ochi stralucitori se asaza pe esarfa mea
from my heart gush a lot of ink planets/ din inima mea tasnesc o multime de planete de cerneala
and cling of antlers of the red deer / si se agata de coarnele cerbului rosu
like a soap bubble full of life/ca un balon de sapun plin de viata
everything while I still browse among thoughts of snow/ totul in timp ce eu mai rasfoiesc printre gandurile de zapada
In every Monday/ in fiecare zi de luni
I run barefoot in Hyde Park / alerg desculta in Hyde Park
I run and I run then I take over again and again/ alerg si alerg apoi o iau de la capat
perhaps I will have much more luck in this life/ poate voi avea mai mult noroc in aceasta viata
(Other days
– We know: days go one by one –)
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/11/25/on-mondaylunea/feed/
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kensington gardens
alinierea
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London adventures…
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/10/02/london-adventures/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/10/02/london-adventures/#comments
Tue, 02 Oct 2012 18:21:22 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=150
…here
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/10/02/london-adventures/feed/
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page1
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Miercurea fără cuvinte (1)
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/miercurea-fara-cuvinte-1/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/miercurea-fara-cuvinte-1/#comments
Wed, 22 Aug 2012 06:35:35 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=128
Click Here!
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/miercurea-fara-cuvinte-1/feed/
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maretie
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contract
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/contract/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/contract/#comments
Sun, 19 Aug 2012 15:26:41 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=104
mă dor îngrozitor palmele genunchii ochii
vinerea trecută m-au durut plămânii
se crapă o uşă ies văd
boschetarul deschide o conservă îi aruncă o privire câinelui fără stăpân
îi aruncă un sfert din conservă
la fel ca toată lumea astăzi am trecut pe lângă situaţii dramatice
am trecut…
dacă nu e deţinut sau câine sau animal de circ omul este atât de ieftin
îl păcălesc angajatorii politicienii bancherii asigurătorii vânzătorii ghicitorii
pe toată durata contractului lui de viaţă
eu plec să mă stabilesc pe o frunză poate mă ia vântul poate
mă ia cu mătura angajatul primăriei poate mă ridică
un poet ajung semn de carte între
paginile unui volum de versuri…
marinela şerban
bat la uşă: bibliodevafiliala3 almanahe flaviusobeada turistclujan dumitruagachi
childagain
dordefemeie gabrielailies dragoscalinescu androxa stropidesuflet
revistapensionarul pluta
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https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/contract/feed/
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păsări în viaţă
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/14/pasari-in-viata-2/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/14/pasari-in-viata-2/#comments
Tue, 14 Aug 2012 06:26:24 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=41
n-au mai rămas
din moment ce toţi poeţii au renunţat să mai scrie despre ele
unii spun că despre zbor aripi îngeri să nu mai vorbim pentru că
au rămas prea multe amprente pe degete şi autorităţile nu mai pot
stăpâni fenomenul
în schimb cuvântul „spermă” înfierbântă minţile
câştigă toate concursurile literare se fixează în minţile criticilor
cu el deschizi încuietorile succesului
până şi eu l-am scris
apoi m-am clătinat apoi am început
să număr fragmente din oasele poemelor
marinela şerban
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https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/14/pasari-in-viata-2/feed/
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imagesbb
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Într-un vas de ceramică
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/13/intr-un-vas-de-ceramica/
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/13/intr-un-vas-de-ceramica/#comments
Mon, 13 Aug 2012 17:36:38 +0000
https://workofday.wordpress.com/?p=4
https://workofday.wordpress.com/2012/08/13/intr-un-vas-de-ceramica/feed/
4
4
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school3
I hope that Benjamin Zephaniah will not be upset on me if I write one poem on my blog.
Terrible World I’ve seen streets of blood Redda dan red There waz no luv Just bodies dead And I think to myself What a terrible world. I’ve seen pimps and priests Well interfused Denying peace To the kids they abuse And I think to myself What a terrible world. The killer who’s hero The rapist who’s indoors The trade in human cargo And dead poets on tours I’ve seen friends put in jail For not being rich And mass graves made From a football pitch. I’ve seen babies scream Nobody cared Civilians starve Whilst troops are prepared And I think to myself What a terrible world Yes I think to myself What a terrible world.]]>
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The soul of waters says something to me… I cannot understand it yet…
]]>all last night I wove the frost in your hair
and it was well. and it was one night
which has fed us with white blizzard plants we saw a lot of people like us – freezing on the big playing field of the illusions we could see the universes in motion the places of constant protests we are standing in our frost nest we are eating some of the apples of winter and we are drinking rum till walls of tobacco turn white everything is white. an uninterrupted strip of white paper a white pool in which we are safely entering to pick water lilies and irritate swans we don’t know on what day we are we don’t remember in which day we met and I cannot write my name on you. and you cannot write your name on me
(you can read in Romanian here)
In Hyde Park
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And shortly,
recomandări: carmen vania oanaclara smilingseconds pluta pensionarul…
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în vechiul vas de ceramică moştenit de la bunica
am adunat multe lacrimi
sunt lacrimi bune de leac aşa că ori de câte ori
mă doare gâtul
răcesc sau cineva mă deoache
scot câte o lacrimă chiar două le pun să cânte
şi mă vindec de orice
pot traversa apoi cu încredere dormitorul
până la rădăcina inimii tale
ascunsă bine într-un rond de flori
de pe Champs-Elysées
]]>