Not part of the deal

Also check out some of the poetry books:

what’s a man when all the wars are over?

he watches the rain like
it's alive
but he feels less alive himself
behind him
the house turns dark
its last light going off

don't turn back
don't look back
keep going ahead

and maybe another house
and another wife
will open up before you

or maybe there'll be another
war coming
and the nation will need
your service
again

this time the fear shall be
less intense
The first time
someone points
a gun at you
you're terrified
the second time's the same
third
forth
and so on
but eventually there comes
a time when you
run out of people
to point guns at you

fifth

twelfth

forty-third

and none of them make you
feel like her eyes
watching from the window
behind the curtains
and no pulling of the trigger
and no bang
is like her voice screaming
at the kid to go away, to not look

"A stranger! That's what the
man outside is. And I'm calling
the police if he keeps staring like that.
DON'T!
you dare look at him. Go to
your room. Now."

What's a man when all
the wars are over?
A squirt gun against the sun.

His good hand, the one with
whole and working fingers
reached into an inner pocket
of his uniform, found
nothing.

He walked on
And it rained on
And there were no more wars
Check out the audio reading here 👇

Also check out some poetry books here 👇

a turtle born on the wrong side of its shell

He had a big belly
but he wasn't a fat man
he wished he was a fat man

his daughter was four
and she told him that he
looked like a
turtle
born
on the wrong side of
its shell

and mother laughed.
He didn't.

Surely he would have if the
swelling wasn't a terminal
disease
a type of cancer of the
stomach and guts whose
name he struggled very
hard to
forget
but the regular visits to
the doctor kept reminding him

his wife kept laughing
she said that laughing
is the key
the best healing
Laughter and love
lots and lots of love
Love

but the other night when
he tucked the little girl
in bed and kissed her forehead and
said "I love you."
she poked her tongue at him
and said "I don't! You ugly and weird.
I love mommy and puppy Bran. Good
night." And she put her
head on the pillow and
closed her eyes.

It was I who went to the shelter
and brought puppy Bran home, he though
as he closed the door, tears
blurring his vision
He didn't go into the
bedroom where his wife
was probably asleep

he went into the bathroom
vomited
washed his face
rinsed his mouth
went into the kitchen
and grabbed the leash
went outside
and took puppy Bran
for a walk

the moon lighted their path
and the shadow of his
big, swollen belly
covered all of puppy Bran

What to do when the room wants to vomit you like a bad meal

Femeia asasin (the female assassin)

Check out the English version (plus audio reading) HERE!
Also have a look at 👇

Sometimes it’s better to be part of the argument than be totally ignored

Also check out this book of dark poetry ↓ 

and the children in the streets and the sewers and the laboring camps and the foster homes agreed with me

What do you want to
become when you
grow up?
was their most asked
question

And silence was my
most given answer

Might as well ask
How do you wanna die?

I didn’t.
I didn’t wanna grow up

but God, nature, the universe
put me through it anyway

And I told God, nature, the universe
that I would give up all the
possibilities for my future, all
the things that I could become
if only God, nature, the universe
would answer me this one question:

WHY DO I HAVE TO GROW UP
IN THE FIRST PLACE?

And a deal has been made
and God, nature, the universe said:
WHY, IT’S QUITE SIMPLE. YOU HAVE
TO GROW UP BECAUSE YOUR
GUARDIANS ARE GROWING OLD.
AND YOU WOULDN’T WANNA BE YOUNG
IN A WORLD WHERE NO ONE TAKES
CARE OF YOU, WOULD YOU?

God, nature, the universe was right
And I said it was right
and the children in the streets
and the sewers and the laboring camps
and the foster homes agreed with me

We have to grow up

And because of the deal I struck with
God, nature, the universe
I am now unable to become any of
the things I could’ve become

I can only imagine
those things
and write about
them

and that’s
what I
do.

Cruce grea, cătușă strâmbă

Check out the English version HERE!
Also give this a try 👇

A life ain’t saved just because it’s born

Count to twenty

Also check out 👇

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