agonia
english

v3
 

Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii Românesti - Romanian Poetry

poezii


 


Texts by the same author


Translations of this text
0

 Members comments


print e-mail
Views: 3074 .



Roller coaster
poetry [ ]
fate

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [stradymarius ]

2008-03-25  |     | 



Roller coaster

I’ve took myself into the bus station,
wasting seconds.
Shadows were tied by my shoes laces…
I’ve got in the charming box
swindling my back in a white chair
and moving away.
I could see through the glass
altered performers:
Others taller, others ugly,
Others slighter and others smiley…
The bus driver was a bloke,
laughing and leading me to nowhere;
he had a rusty beard like a pirate
and sang with deaf sounds a song!
I’ve got dizzy, the performers were moving
chaotically and swiftly,
the echoes were fading
and I fell down like a barmy dog.
Then I saw my mother’s smirk,
I smelt my father’s bottle of wine,
and got woozy again…
Into my look, nasty,
my feet got bigger, also my hands,
my clothes got tear off,
and the white chair started to change his colour
in a rainbow perspective!
Wind got diluted into my eyes,
on my skin, on my hair wings –
and vanished away with the sun beams,
with moon’s expression,
with stars’ tales.
I’ve closed my eyes ... I saw nothing!
I’ve opened my look and saw something –
it was somewhat with round shapes,
long hair, big lips and silky hands…
It had a peculiar bouquet;
I spent some time beyond
talking with eyes, looking with mouths
and sensing with our bodies –
the same movie endlessly repeating
was lost when the bus stopped!!!

I was alone…
no more driver’s beard, no more shadows,
not even dizziness or other closer entity –
just some ash on a chair with no colour…


.  |










 
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!