Don`t be Crazy!!!

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Friday, April 25, 2008

We're losing daylight but I cant work any faster.
Under the veil of dusk we go on,
Don’t close your eyes.
What if it all disappears in the shadows that reach from the stars?

If I held my ground would you ask me to change?
This drought bleeds on now we're dancing for rain
We drink the air but it’s still not the same
These worlds collide but the distance remains
We point the finger, never accept the blame and I know. I know
Let's go!

The waters come but the fire still rages on here
The men all shrugged their shoulders and left
We sleep so sound in rooms just up the stairs
Will you save us like you saved them?

If I held my ground would you ask me to change?
This drought bleeds on now we're dancing for rain
We drink the air but it’s still not the same
These worlds collide but the distance remains
We point the finger, never accept the blame and I know. I know

You’ve bled me dry but I’m still breathing
I swear I’m sucking dry the sky
And you wont ever find us kneeling
Or swallowing your lies

If I held my ground would you ask me to change?
This drought bleeds on now were dancing for rain
We drink the air but it’s still not the same

These worlds collide but the distance remains
We point the finger, never accept the blame, and I know. I know

This drought bleeds on... this drought bleeds on

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Drifting away...

"I sometimes find I'm drifting
Through this life without effect;
I often wonder if I'm truly
Worth what I've been blessed.

I search through days that have been hard,
To try to understand,
The many trials that I have known,
The life that I have had.

You see me in my daily grind,
So confident and strong;
Yet when I am alone, I question
Just where I belong.

I often try too hard I find,
To analyze and guess,
To scrutinize, investigate
My life I will confess.

For somewhere deeper, there must be
Some meaning to this life,
Some way to make a difference,
Give a reason for this strife.

Is there some hidden meaning?
Some agenda to be found?
A greater purpose waiting
If I care to hang around?

It teases and it taunts me,
Always slightly out of sight;
A hazy vision out of reach,
Where darkness hides the light.

I struggle to bring clarity
To what awaits me there,
And yet this weak illusion
Always fades before my stare.

It seems the harder that I try,
To focus through the haze,
Just serves to add more questions,
Through my endless, tired gaze.

Perhaps I'm trying just too hard,
To understand it all,
For can we ever truly know
Just what we have in store?

Each incident, each moment passed,
Just adds upon the next,
But in the end, will I find truth ...
Or will I be perplexed?

Perhaps I make it harder
Than it has to be sometimes,
But will my searching bring to me
My meaning over time?

Or will it leave me broken,
And confused as I feel now,
While questions bring no solitude,
To this, my wrinkled brow."

'Street Kings' Trailer

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Aş vrea să fiu cinci minute poet…

Geo Bogza

As vre sa fiu cinci minute, numai cinci minute, poet:

Unul dintre acei oameni extraordinari pe care zeii ii inaripeaza
Cand vor sa exprime in vesuri o suferinta sau o bucurie
-si-n acele versuri se recunosc apoi milioane de oameni,
iar generatii intregi le stiu pe de rost si de cate ori le aud
sunt cuprinse de aceeasi adanca emotie.

As vrea sa fiu, numai cinci minute, un astfel de om privilegiat,
Pentru a tese-, si nimeni sa nu-l gaseasca injosit- vesmantul poeziei
In jurul celei mai banale intamplari cu putinta,
Intamplare ce pe mine m-a emotionat la culme,
Si as vrea ca emotia aceasta sa nu se piarda, sa o-ncerce
- o, de s-ar putea !- cat mai multi oameni.

Haideti, degete ale mele, indrazniti, incercati sa teseti
Vesmantul de aur al poeziei
Pe umerii rapanosi ai acelei atat de prozaice intamplari,

Cand dimineata unei urate zile de toama m-a prins intr-un tren apropae pustiu,
Si intr-o mica gara de munte, pierduta in ploaie si ceata,

Un alt calator, un ins cam antipatic, a intrat tocmai in compartimentul meu.

Ma simteam atat de bine singur, in trenul care strabatea negura muntilor,
Si iata-l acum pe asta morocanos si mirosind a caine ud
Iar pe deasupra- animalul- se si apuca sa manance.

Era evident un ins antipatic, cu nasul lui borcanat,
Cu ochii bulbucati si umezi de broscoi,
Cu putin par in crestetul foarte tuguiat
De parca l-ar fi strans prea tare poarta prin care venise in lume.

Am vazut cu sila cum dintr-un petec sois de ziar
Scoate o bucata de peste prajit, o ceapa si un colt de paine,
Si ca sa nu-l mai am in fata ochilor, m-am intors spre fereastra.
Dar apoi l-am privit iarasi, cel putin ca sa ma infurii de-a binelea.

Ghemuit in coltul lui ca intr-o vizuina, intrusul a inceput sa infulece,
Miscand capul in sus si in jos, si facand apoi efortul suprem
In urma caruia imbucatura ii aluneca in sfarsit pe beregata
Si iar intindea mana spre hartia slinoasa,
Fara nici o lumina in priviri, ca si cum ar fi implinit o osanda.

Si deodata mi-am dat seama ca n-avea nimic de baut
Nici apa, nici vin, si ca in lipsa lor, masa era o osanda.

Din acea clipa, miscarea capului sau plina de efort si suferinta,
mi-a aparut sfasietor de umana.
Atunci am simtit painea si ceapa ca de piatra, zgariindu-mi gatlejul,
Ca si cum carnea si sangele lui ar fi fost carnea si sangele meu,
Ca si cum carnea si sangele lui ar fi fost carnea si sangele umanitatii.

Cum curgeau afara paraiele de munte dupa trei zile de ploaie,
Asa a inceput sa curga prin mine torentialul fluviu al compasiunii.

Palid, sedeam in coltul meu, prada unei puternice emotii.
Atat de fierbinte si necontrolat e valul dragostei de oameni
Care imi ineaca uneori, in cele mai banale imprejurari,
Inima vesnic nepotolita si flamanda.
Palid sedeam in coltul meu, cuprins de o singura, mistuitoare dorinta,
Ca, desfacandu-mi arterele, sangele sa mi se prefaca in vin.

O, cum le-as fi desfacut atunci, lasandu-l sa curga, umpland cu el o cana, o carafa,
Pe care le-as fi intins acestui am atat de antipatic si totusi
Atat de uman, acelui frate necunoscut al meu.

Aceasta e intamplarea banala pe care as fi vrut sa o imbrac in vesmantul poeziei,
Daca as fi putut sa fiu cinci minute, numai cinci minute, un mare poet.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Wub ;x

Eu te privesc,si nu mi-ajunge,;x te simt si nu ma satur, ;x te am si te mai vleau, ;x si te mai vleau ;x si te mai vleau ;x ... eu sunt o fereastra deschisa pentru zborul visurilor noastre,te iubesc pana la Doamne-Doamne si inapoi,;x ;x ;x ;x de un infinit de ori ;x ;x ;x ;x ;x ;x Eu te privesc,si nu mi-ajunge, ;x te simt si nu ma satur,;x te am si te mai vleau, ;x