cand copiii dorm

cand copiii dorm si e liniste
imi numar gandurile
de la o mie
pana la unul
pentru toate zilele
de la noi
pana la eu
de la cer
pana la bucatarie
si inapoi.

cand copiii dorm
imi numar visele
unul ici
unul colo
descuamate
desperecheate
desucheate
demachiate
visele mele
uitate.

cand copiii dorm
imi numar grijile
o mie
si una
croite anume
pentru a albi
noptile
pentru a scoate
petele
de constiinta.

cand copiii dorm
imi numar paharele
unul
inca unul
socotesc gandurile
si visele
si grijile
ce mai au inca
a se ineca
in pace.

cand copiii dorm
si e liniste
si totul e socotit
numarat
cumpatat
ingropat
mai zabovesc
o vreme
ca ploaia
inainte sa cada.

De vreme ce-mi placi

Trece o vreme-om
[...]
De vreme ce traiesti din aproape in departe,
Aproapele devine insuportabil
Caci aproape te-ai nascut,
Aproape ai trait,
Aproape ai murit;
Tu te lepezi de aproape
Si, totusi, eu te pastrez printre gesturile mele.

Mai trece o vreme-peste
[...]
De vreme ce aluneci din departe in aproape,
Netarmurirea devine insuportabila
Caci ramai fara degete
de tatonat marea de pe tarm;
Iti tii respiratia si plonjezi,
Tu te scufunzi in dedesubturi
Si, totusi, eu te ademenesc printre valurile mele.

Mai trece o vreme-pasare
[...]
De vreme ce plutesti din aproape in aproape,
Orizontul devine insuportabil
Caci aripile de peste
Nu scruteaza zarea,
Iti iei avant si zbori;
Tu te inalti in vazduhuri
Si, totusi, eu te zbor printre dorurile mele.

Si vine o vreme-spirit
[...]
De vreme ce te mori din departe in departe,
Usuratatea devine insuportabila
Caci al Apei ai fost,
Al Vantului esti,
Al Pamantului vei fi;
Tu te codesti sa arzi Focului asa si pe dincolo
Si, totusi, imi placi, asa ca eu te strecor printre nimicurile mele.

Ce vremuri [...]

*Photo:  Glitch, Mirandus Lucerna.

Fuck what they're saying

They say you should work harder,
They say you're late again,
They say you've lost your ardor
And that you are to blame.

But what say you, my dear,
When all your lights are out?
How do you tame your fear?
How do you soothe your doubt?

They say you've hurt their feelings,
They say it's not enough,
They say you've pierced their ceilings
And that you're not so tough

But what say you my sweetheart
When all your love is drained?
How do you grieve your lost art?
How do you bleach what's stained?

No matter what they're saying,
Their words belong to them.
Beware of what you're slaying
As yourself you condemn.

Saving Grace

Call it intervention, call it what you may
Name it for all women, call it a decay
But when I touch my body, touch is gone astray
Gone between the rapture and the feeling of dismay.

Call it buried burden, call it future blame
Name it for all women, call it burned out flame
But when I light my body, light will turn to shame
Torn between desire and starving for an aim.

Call it curse of history, call it twist of fate
Name it for all women, call it ancient slate
But when I move my body, love will fade to hate
Caught up between temptation and plain all fucking bait.

No matter how you call it, no matter what you face
The shadows of your rapists, the demons in your space,
The sins of all the fathers, erased without a trace
May all sins be forgiven by women saving grace.

The offering

she sits alone in her kitchen at night
after lights out
when all her outer work is done
she revisits some to do list or other
what is required of her
is it her duty or is it her purpose
which is it
she wonders
her children are fed, washed, pampered, soothed
they are mothered and she may rest
but alas, she cannot find her rest yet
there are things required of her still
offerings to be shared
so she surrenders
and her inner work begins

she sits alone in her kitchen at night
after lights out
and contemplates on grace
she contemplates on purpose
on life and death
lights in, lights out
sunrise, sunset
beginnings and endings
it all goes round in circles
in her head

but what about her heart
what about her dreams
what about her handy work
her undanced body
her untouched skin
her undisclosed secrets
her unwatered garden
her unwritten story
her unpainted masterpiece
her unmothered inner child
her unnurtured soul
what about her

will she ever learn to feed herself
before she breastfeeds the whole wide world
will she ever dare to ask for what she needs
before she offers what she lacks
will she ever forgive her own unmothered mother
before she mothers her daughters down the same path
will she ever surrender to whatever is
before she expects the world of herself
will she ever commit to synergy
before she succumbs to the hierarchy of dominance
will she ever rise out of her own ashes
before she burns out in the fire of her past
will she ever let go of all answers
before she comes undone
into the wisdom of her elders

she sits alone in her kitchen at night
but she is not in fact alone
she sits in a circle of women
women of yesterday
women of now
women of tomorrow
and she feels their pain
the pain of all womankind
she can feel it all
knowing it does not belong to her
she can see and release as she sees
releasing them all to peace.

this is her offering