blossom roses

by
let it be like a sweet suggestion 
for each day to be combined 
with the seductive and the mystery 
created by a fascinating image 
inspired by the holographic icon 
of a trance-foamed melody 
in poetic notes for which 
one loves to surround you 
in the echo of the blossom roses

poetic audience

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one that I want

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On a banal day, everyone you'll meet will tell you, relax, it'll pass away. But nobody will say how and when. Me, like everybody, I'm gonna tell you, — I've been there. I was confronted with a situation similar to yours... [almost...]. Didn't you feel first an indescribable pain that ran through your veins and blood, and all your being, working like a symbiotic, trying to transform you into something else, enough to be able to face fighting with your fury, with your weakness, with every fear that you've been thought that's well hidden? [surely, you felt it... surely, you've been transfigured...] If somebody will tell you that understands you, believe not. It's far to be similar to something lived by others. You have to resist not to lose your mind. Hold on till will appear that bright day to wake you up. Once awakened, you will observe you have the same look outside, but inside you'll be different. You'll be much stronger. You'll have a n...
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beautiful people

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Your dream gets in my dream whenever wants. There is no any other power able to control it. There is no prescribed mechanism to forbid it. The bewildering joy and the groggy happiness are dominating both dreams. Mine and yours... ⋯ The key to explore a dream in a dream, belongs  only to beautiful people. The rest can only hope. But hope is perverse. And botch the appearance. And sometimes, steps on everything, arrogantly, aiming for having even what wasn't meant for it. ⋯ It whispered my instinct, verified by all my souls which live in my soul and nourish my entire being. ⋯ All the souls of my soul possess their own source. Dream has its soul. Why do you think I dream‽ Writing, too... But so has the laughing. And so on... ...the Love. Why do you think I love, and I'm loved‽ Why your dream gets in my dream as it please···‽ ⋯ (giggling), (mysteriously blooming), (kissing... me)
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black & blue

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in the darkness of daylight, left on the hand of a poem, intervened some glimmers, a black & blue's countdown, you to identify my name, hid in the dent of your universe, where a few seek for stills, or are amazed over the moon…
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we've met

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Do you remember (when and how) we've met in the middle of a speculative blue note song …‽ I was on G+ (exploring stuff). By magic, (you), appeared in that unknown universe with lots of galleries, as if you've been a quicksilver kind. Inside that space, some had barbarous profiles with plenty of pixels and wildish longings. Then, (you), came into my sight like an androgynous , with a look spoiled in dreams' circuit ,  adrenaline and drama, with a pulse a click away from mine. We dreamt of poetry, melodious lyrics , and voices with their souls hid through a keyboard or mouse. Your hologram , maybe, was seeking, like me, for an indubitable feeling and a  definition , using a few subtle skills, to somehow adjust our world. A bit.
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disappointed

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How many "so-called friends", do you have‽ Did you even try to buy them? Did you care? Did you hear their palaver? When d'you knew that by gazing in their eyes, they'll go away? ⋯·⋯ Will they go away in the claws of their own sigh, inhaling and exhaling their own hate's whisper, wrapped in a silent shout, on the route to hell, at the disappointing call hour of a hungry moon? ⋯·⋯hmm… At the disappointing call hour of a hungry moon, I saw night's finger migrating on the sun eyelid, too determined to find out the loners' unhappiness. All were attired in the garment of lovelessness.
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so strange

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shines the whispers' lights, like dawn's beads, festooning promptly, love's echo, seduced and flung out from the neck of the sun's first thrill poeticized by the zenith of an endless longing thru a window's fissure of dreams' kitchenette sings chic, the thoughts in the mind's boudoir, using decency's taste, anointed in sin's crème, fine impregnated in a strawberry aroma's tale and cherry, adorned in tiny champagne collars thru an enamored soul consumed with desire dance the words on the canvas of the feelings adjusted by the contour of eyes' colors palette, like dawn's beads shine in the whispers' lights, like the thoughts sing thru the mind's boudoir, like the words dance on the canvas of feelings thru a shining Monday to rouse Tuesday's voice while Wednesday, so strange, allures the mood because Thursday's a hot comrade of the Friday that incites Saturday to inspire Sunday's dream to be, chic while you kiss me in fin...
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and then there's you

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on the path of the magic elixir, I am enchanted in a cup of a... finesse tea; tea of tenderness and joy, smoothly and therapeutically in its sweet savor; love-in-a-mist [finds-a-crazy-charm] and then there's you, comforting me;
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@ home │ life + you

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his galaxy abounds with inspiration and pours love... and melancholy, — right there up above, spinning on the ray of a star, I feel I am… — seduced I'm drawn by him in a poem I'm the flower of his dreams well-mannered by the spirit of his ink
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coffee

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morning greetings, – coffee, hugs, and ⟮a finer thing⟯; to do is to do nothing but to have confidence and understanding; any chosen path is a good one when can't be found a proper way; so let it be a midday of kisses but take no risk; ⟮love is hard enough without the winter⟯; winter is you... and me... a snowflake one, ⟮inquisitive and playful⟯, gasping ardently, like a whisper to be ⟮summer in your arms⟯
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