Dear Sylvia

Dear Sylvia
So you know….as we were talking days ago
i was interrupted by the time
so short between us

I tried as you tried…one, two and three
Be happy it is not for poets

I dont give up and i think you don’t gave up also
You just was carved in marble…
classical

I had no time to look and say goodby

But lies above …as a shadow , as a cloud…
Full of rain, and lightnings….heavy
Mixed with my feelings
As a second identity of me
was good…
You… a ghost living at the third floor
Of my unconsciousness

I like bees…the hum …you know
Bees are so so fat and noisily fun
But not a box of bee
They are dangerous and they aren’t for us

I discovered through you
We try because of others
When we absorve the others shadows
Becoming dark …their darkness melted in us

So many wishes… who is the owner?
becoming a reflection of their desires
constant splashes on the river bank
The mirrors ..you know
But must be a place
to hide …maybe to rest

and i ask to myself if there has not room
without solitude, without cold

And no heaven, no hell
at least… not a shortcut… nothing so fast

Sylvia Plath

maybe God will build
a silent spot… you’ll sit, i’ll sit
to watch….silence and move

as you see my dear friend
I am  trying  as you tried

but

be happy…it is not for poets

Just my Hair…

i wanted to cut my hair
really…very short

as a man…

with that neck…so so clean
I wanted to protest against myself
NO! Was i heard

I wanted to cut off the tubes in my veins

NO!

The white man shot off against to me
What a fright!

He seemed so so right!

So…after that…i remember who i am
or i used to be

i put all tubes off from me
and yelled louder

YES!

I took my right way to home

walking alone and being myself free

but my hair

so strange feeling

nobody goes on unpunished

MM2
it is the same as always
long
until i know really, really who i was

Until that moment…. i am alone