The breeze that smells of greens, Of sweet rain and seeds, I know what it means, It’s the Wind from my dreams. (…) Everything that seemed to be gone, Returns at the purple dawn When the Summer Wind carries on Its lightweight path I’ve drawn. Bruxelles
Will you hold my hand When birds leave for the South? When I taste tears in my mouth? Will you hold my hand When storms destroy their nests? When my eyes is where sorrow rests? Will you hold my hand When they fail to return? When all my dreams burn?
Fell downwards in a spiral of thought, Only to land on a pillow of sleep. A seamless nightmare I fought, Then faded dimensions deep. Nothing at all except soft oblivion, Magrittian dream didn’t stop by, And non-existence was my vision, Couldn’t even manage to ask why. Bruxelles
The moon is still peering at us from above, Don’t wake me up, too early for love. It’s six AM, In my hands A hyacinth stem. There he stands. Car door open, Smiling at me, No words spoken, I won’t flee… But the moon is still peering from above, Don’t wake me up, too early … More Drive
Remember that time of evil thunders – The sky turned into a dark heaven, But love worked hundred wonders. You know, there’s more than seven. When the clouds opened to rinse Our black souls and dirty minds, Water was not enough to convince Us of the duty that binds. Instead we just rained down In … More When We Rained Down
The light of your cigarette Glows like a burning star; The lawn is getting wet, Our minds dream high and far. My hair is a thousand birds Flying southward down my spine, And when you say those words Your lips taste like red wine.
Only one small poem To make everything right; It’s not to show them Any burden is light, Rather a sudden wish To deny I’m foolish. I may lack the will To close a chapter, I linger on. Still. Describe you thereafter, Count words like moments, Imagine your comments. I may badly miss Your candid direct … More One Poem
Vējus manā sejā Tu izkausēji tējā; Un tajā saltā naktī Plaukstas viji taktī: Tikās lūpas salstošas, Zvaigznes kļuva gaistošas. Pie Tevis bija silti – Tavās acīs saules tilti.
Cinnamon-warm hands, Poppy seeds sprinkled in your eyes, That lock of hair immersed in cocoa. I need a soft vanilla kiss That would turn into Freshly plucked melissa. And where is the heart of yours? It beats in a shell of a walnut, Drips tears of lemon sourness, Hurts in the bitterness of rowan, Until … More Two Berries
Told you I can fly, A perfect passer-by: You think I’d stay, But not really; I play. Whenever you seem to meet me, I’ll be on a new flying spree; Airplanes love me more than you, Looks like you never even flew… I never settle with less Than real wings. They bless.