Windows Without Dreams - The Argotist Online

Cover image and all artwork by Daniela VoicuCopyright © Daniela Voicu 2012All rights reservedArgotist Ebooks3

Windows without Dreams4

NOT AN ALTERNATIVEI rememberedwatching my shadowrunning after a star(me dressed in my skin)that hepromised me a full moonwhen dogs howl at herhe told me to lie downon the red flowersand to let him put herthe moon in my hairand make love until morningbig alien bugs came down from thismoonand bit me up until bloodyand this blood inundatedthe landafter transformed into dustmy blooda nice matrix foran alternativehe wanted me sometimes& sometimes killed mewithforgetfulnessI am not an alternativeand take your moon back from my hair!It is not fashion.5

SUNSETSun goes down in abstract silences,deep into the breath of primary colours.The universe blends in perfumesof passion’s passed moments.Singing midnight in white rimeby cicada, lost in flowers lime,dreams move in the senses of the universe—setting atomic desire free.6

CRIMEI wanted to cure myselfof youkilling my past,easily washing my handsof the blood that flowsfrom the woundsfilled with idylls.I burned the pastand threw its ashesin the wind,as your complex words.I wanted to cure myself of youwalking upon time,and any expectationI still have—my hands are grubby.7

ESSENTIALWhen the night is long,I wish to hate you,and drive you awaywhen you cry.When you are far awayfrom me, I want to curse you,love you.I have on my lips... your name.Travelling the roadsthrough dust and smoke,we lose our souls in a viciouscircle of hate,which quick steps allreturn to us.Sins and ugly sentiments lostin the furious fire that’s coming...Your heart that lives through me,still flows in me... one crazy love.You drove away, today.You don't know how to be alone.I don't want you—thoughloving you is all I do.I am resting now...I don't want to talk…I’ve killed my words…I’ve kill all that I have,even my desires forall that love means...You are still away...You will nevercome to save my soul.8

ETERNAL WORDWith the last word in existenceLove penetrates the distance.My eyes looking so far,Mysterious lovers we are.Life; our fighting with the words:Love—End—Beginnings.No matter the distance to be loved,The souls are catalysed words.I close my eyes; I'm blind...My lips investigate your land,Kissed lips in millions of colours,Tested skins in taboo flavours.My lips taking your breath,Touched bodies on the Earth.We fight until the last sword:Love it is the Eternal Word.9

FANTASTICViolet and light.Fantastic birds and white wolvesare all around.The planets are closerand closer—bigger, golden, silver, red… andseraphim fly all around,playing little harps.I am laid on the Earthwatching the black sky.Thousands and thousands ofconstellations,under the infinityof your existence.Am I the first womanwho sees this Universe?When I look up into the starsI see your face, your bodypainted in God’s colours,floating in a midnight dreamamidst time.The sound of the galaxyswallows my mind in divinemusical notes.The infinite has the colour of love,And fantastic birds follow me everywhere,whispering your name.They form the rainbowin my hair.No, Sun, don’t kiss me now!Let my dream live!11

MISSING YOUAlone in my room,the silence writesempty words ontransparent walls.The kissed memoriesof rainbow sentiments,salt windand the sand storm,speak frommy skin.Inside me is a war,and the silent stepsof my tearsfall in thedesert of love.Without yousilence sings a dark tune,touching my hairwith notes of past summers.12

SHANGHAI MONKI amin the middleof meditationin lotus positionI amthe reasonfor you to leave meSolitudethe big opera of Goda poets rewardYou arethe unspoken complicated wordsdancing far awayonly dust and smoke(Evolution pollution)is on the wayand remembersBig destiny wavesno one hereto see nowwhat I feelI am aShanghai monkin orange pajamasstanding in the air13

DIRTY QUEENHow lovely the morning is,pervaded by the silence of loneliness,as sleepy green and red dragons fly in circlesaround lost feelings.Next to me on an old couch,God watches a movie with clowns.I play chess, and it is nakedall around the queen, thatdirtydirtyqueen,who reads the lines in my palm,speaking lies about my dearest stars.Beside me,my cup of Romanian coffee is still hot,while I waitfor the green and red dragonsto dissipate.14

BESIEGEI listen to the rain’s soft musicof preludes of notes over deeper nightrefreshing the venial airwhich kisses thezenith of mysidereal heartyour hands besiegemy wax bodypainted slowly withdrops of rainmy skinwater flowerspink snowflakespurple butterfliesyou take the rain& dress me as your queen,the solstice kissand the silence of breath16

24 HOURSIn the morning I open my eyes and I countsilently, dusting wrinklesoff the clock.The perfect hourwhen sleep ismore sweet.At noon I open the informationto seewhat levelthey have put me in:or have they deleted me?I sprawl and open my big mouth.My soul its out,and now tears flow downmy cheeks with rageon to the floor:dreams...very precious dreams.My wrath makes me scream.My hands tremble on one blue wedge,that was from a celebrity writer.Somebody said if I wrote with himI would be a celebrity, too.If I had been born in Paris I would be a lady,but I was born in a different world.Better to forget who I am, sometimes.I run with no identity on the bank of deep water.Maybe it will swallow mewith all my ideas;with all my words spoken (or not)to strangers.I will be free!17

WEfor all poetsWe havehands to hold wordsand those we love,eyes to see and cry, andlips to say wonderful wordsand to kiss with, and a heartto tickle time...The Earth has hands:the trees,and lips:the wind(that sometimes kiss our face),and wordsfor when we look atthe alabaster sky,and it’s eyes are the riversand oceans.We are complete:humans and Earth,poets and wind,words and sky,eyes and rivers.We are all oceans.18

NO MERCYNo mercy.The horologe has stoppedAt 12 o'clock in the night.I jump from my dream bed;Strange dreams withWhite flake and perfumed magnolias.I take the horologeAnd throw it on the flour…The time has blunted my senses.Taking another chill pill,I drink boiled water again from oneFired cup...I walk in my empty room;Crazy white walls.I blow chunks with my nervousness.My ears…like one hell sound:No mercy time!No mercy love!I take the horologe and I fixThe hour I wished for:The hour of my love…Tick tock, tick tock…Crazy love...This time will never stop again.19

SPECIESlost sounds on heights of tendernessfloating over cries ofhuman ancestors’ feetthe fallen angelsin love with virgins with horizon-hairand sea-eyeselongated from the skythe Supreme Mastercreated a new species whichloses in silence and mysterywith every kisswith every historystill the earthquake keeps the secretthe tunnel which linkstwo worldsin Carpathianat silent tablesthe colossusexplores DNAthe wise knowbut the silence isabove honourhumansfear of disappearingallexiting from this experiment.21

PLAN FOR SEDUCTIONevery grain of sandhas a plan for seductionfor the footprintsof your perfect skinwith every touch of the skinyour body struggles in circles of lightrising up to the heaven of my soulbetween earth and sky, not any free space,senses taste of vanilla and white chocolateall sand sticks to my poresbuilding pearl castles…every drop of water on your skinturns on harps, which runs hunted deerby white wolvesyour hands descendfrom my face to all of my bodycarving loveallowing all wolves to devourmy eyes, my lips and my breasts…22

YOUR INDIFFERENCEtoday,all seasons have passed by melike a supersonic wave,a deafening roar, untamed,when your indifference touched my skin…every pore lookingstill silentthis lookcontaining the Ocean, waves, seagulls and all(fly my nude eyelashes kissing your dreams)I am the hourglassthat time returns to on all sides (prematurely)as feelings—wet sand—to pass by destinywith mad secondskilledby youall transparenttime claps their hands and feetthe exact hourlike a military leaderready to attackyou do not know the seasons, the timeand my skin23

TO NOT LOSE MYSELFYou can break out of metime strips,to throw me to the sky,to be immortal in your hands,to not lose myself,to be a constellation,and always looking myself youngwith each sunset when we are love.To let gods play for mewith harps of heaven,and for their hands to caressall that is missing,to gather the groan dissolutionin a bunch of dewwhen you go,to can make destiny rainand the tears of heavenfall over all that is love.Raining… raining over arid land,to smell a wet soul …at sunrise or to the sunset.I might fly as highin love with youin ether.Nobody is sad …we have ourselves.24

WINDOWS WITHOUT DREAMS1. Winter nightblack and whitewhen the worldgoes to sleep.After midnightevery windowhas a shadowof a dreamwaiting answers,freezing thereuntil morning.2. The sad lullabyis the first snowflakethat melts on the wind’s lips,blowing all dreamsfrom your eyes.3. Morning never has been so lonely:not singing, not speaking, not whispering…without answers.Give me a reasonto build windows without dreams.26

A GIFTA day snowing with big star-flakes;the sky opens the angel’s door.Everything seems separated from a fantastic story;snow with cherry-flowers and haiku.Every star-flake has a Swarovski shine.They fall fleetingly,faster than an hourglass wherethe whiteness and purity cover my soul,counting the time without you.Your image is everywhere:in the air that I breathe…in the water that I drink…in everything…in every sound of my existence…I love you more then ever.I want you, today,to be mine for eternity.Let’s listen together toDeep Purple,and to make love to the‘Moonlight Sonata’.Be mine,and the eternal springtimewill be my gift.27

A THOUGHTThe sky is naked andthe thinking of time is anchoredin words of loveand romance.On his feet,traces have wings of verse.Each step like a waltz.Gate-souls in constellation,why have you enclosed timein an hourglass,to let him struggle like a beastcaught by hungry hunters?28

ONE DAYIt was one heaven or one kiss from the light,which floats slowly away andpenetrates your little sphere.Too much desireI have for you: a loveas big as the moon or as wide as thedesert… as beautiful as the sunset.You tremble my love, andgrab every soundof abstract noise from my heart,like the passing of time.You never ask me 'why”I was in heaven.And I still ask myself why.I implore youto never pass over us.The light in heaventransforms us…silent for both our souls.29

RAININGIt's raining—cold, aggressive rain—towards an impossible horizon.Lost feelings sing the drops in dissipated jazz,beyond searching against the wind.Far away, the ocean reads the inferno:sunset in sailors' eyes,witches hanging on poles like tired birds,sometimes snapping in the wind.Not complaining like lost virgins,the rain, a perfect nude,waits for the artist's hands.You can shape the rain?30

BLINDNight savaging the notion of space between us;seconds dying in particles of memory.It is raining on me with lime fragrance not bloomed,and tears of saints on earthin a port.Traces of sunrise from yesterdaystill sit idle on the sea.Sun soak keep in arm all love.The blind morning rips mein particles of unloved time.Waves were caught by my ankles straynot kissed of any shadowpulling me in deeperblind.32

SURFING SILENCEEvery day it is a place for another day:for yesterday, for today.We wait to breathe perfume,without dust and smoke, in a delimited air zone.We are in a hourglass which flows with souls,one by one,in ether.We make space,we struggle for a place at the front.Or we hold on to any excuse that we transformin a scale, to climb two steps or three stepsupon our corpses’ desires.But we fall in the abyss flow,on nimbus-like demigods,guiding, after the unique harp’s rainbow,and divine songs.We wake up, then, from dreaming about ademocratic constitution,at soul rights from this hourglass:I have the right to dream at my liberty.I have the right to live forever.Life, like a breath of wind fluttering in our lungs.Breathing: rare, dense, rare, roar.Life, always wanting to escapein a different body or in space,with silence interspersing the empty spacebetween the soul and us. The soul, breakingand disappearing anytimeit wants, without giving us any explanation.Only the silence remains, transient upon everything,like a last huge wave to clean our sins,then retires leaving only the hourglass sand print—somewhere…Who will remember?33

STYLEwhat I like about youis the indifference which penetrates me as deeplyas contaminated nitrogen airmy skin is filled with criesand every scream grows a wingmy hair is like a crown treeflowering cherryI flyI learn to feel the air on theunexpected height of meyou don’t see meeven if I belly danceyou see through mesimplerememberingnon-existenceI detach every nightfrom unripe lipsto one last poem which Idedicate to youbut the wordsremain untouchednot saying my nameand I wait...any answer is like new breathingbecause I don’t breatheI refuse to breathetill you respond to meI breathe deeplyin time with the 360 GradesI walk on the Tropic of Cancerequilibrium on a plan of seductionI would throw youto catch me34

and your hands like your lipsare not found in this space and timeI love your style.35

SKY HANDSsky handstouch a paper facewriting on the lipswith rainbow pencilsthe last poem of autumnbefore the first snowlonely rhymesflow over the sunseta conqueror’s destinyand a golden infinite song of the soulcalled lovethat is beyond the open transparent skypaints your imageon a cloud36

TRASHI am not your trash,to send me to death,like paper on fire.Maybe I am your soul.Keep the trash inside you,or take the paper and write a book.Make me recyclable.37

YOU ARE SPECIALFirst we construct words:simple, complex, love-words.A game becomes realwith every word,that starts to build a new poem:a fraction of life—in another life—here and there, far or close together.I wanted the night to come early—depending on words hungry for invention.I can't hear you,but words can say,a thousand times,that this voicewas a part of you.I learn the blind silence,in steps of vowels,every morning—happy to be in another life,somehow, somewhere…You know you are forever specialin my mind and soul.I love you.The cold spring comesearly this year,with hope for flowers,windy songs of birds,and poetry.38

TABULA RASAyou knowrespiration of heartlisp eyelashesspeed to flowing tears untilbreastyou dry these tearswith one verse or two& a suave kissfighting with ignoranceyour mature lovehas written history on tabula rasaat sunsetradius of faith revivedin the morning you paint mestandingin divine waitingto illuminate my selfto fill youto merge with your soulwonderful incarnatecreator39

About the AuthorDaniela Voicu is a Romanian poet, novelist and painter. Her poems have been published in PoemulIngerilor, Cuget Liber, Agero Stuttgart, New York Magazine, Curentul International, RevistaLuceafarul, Pagini Romanesti in Noua Zeelanda and Pheonix Mission. In various anthologies,including Tears of Ink, The Poetry of War and Peace, Words on the Winds of Change, Just a Dreamand Reflections on a Blue Planet. And she has a collection of poems published, Blue in Vitro.In 2009, she founded the international journal of culture and literature, Cuib Nest Nido; and in 2011 shefounded the international poetry festival of music and contemporary art, The Art to Be Human.Since 2009, she has been a member of the Writers' League of Romania.40