"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Archive for June, 2013

“A Thousand Years”

memyselfandela

“A thousand years, a thousand more,
A thousand times a million doors to eternity
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning stairway climbs
To a tower of souls
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face
A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, a singular touch of grace
Then following this single point , this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face
I still love you
I still want you

A thousand times the…

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Black & White

 

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“Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani?”

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Today’s thought goes to all those that are going through pain or live with pain. Physical pain, psychological pain, loss, grief, despair.  Pain is the voice of unbalance, of missing something/someone vital for our body or soul. Pain can be the result of external influence coming from life, other people, events we cannot control, feelings we cannot cope with.
It’s a great privilege in life to have someone with us in the moments of deepest pain and anguish. Just as it’s a great privilege to be able to be there for someone in pain. Usually God, in His mercy, allows someone close to us, be it a member of the family, a friend or even a stranger, as it is said, that nobody is given more to suffer than they can endure. I have seen often in life the test of pain given to people but also the merciful holding hand, similar to Saint Veronika wiping off the sweat for Jesus in the darkest hour.
Whether it is a stranger or a friend that goes through pain and torment, please remember to be considerate, caring and loving, this meaning much more in those moments that in normal days and under normal circumstances. Whether you give your compassion or love out of goodness or grounded on religious beliefs, the only thing that really matters is that you care, not why. Don’t turn your back on someone next to you because it feels funny to talk to them. If you find nothing to say at least hold their hand. It is often in gestures like this, often even without words that we can comfort enormously others.
I write all this because I witness every day love being given and denied, care being offered or refused. We, humans, supposed to be the most evolved living creatures on Earth, can often learn from out little brothers, animals, when it comes to compassion. They are pure at heart unlike most of us. They don’t ever think “IF” to love or give compassion or offer a hug, they just do it. Whether it’s your dog or cat comforting you when you are crying, whether it’s a wild animal never leaving another that is wounded, whether it’s a dog jumping in the fire to save a human. We have all seen it. But do we ever learn from it?

0412 5 Kitties Sleeping Together
I have passed myself through heartbreaking moments in this life. And just like Jesus I have asked God in my mind “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”/”My God, My God, Why have You forsaken me?”. Yet He has always opened my eyes later on that He never did forsaken me, but He was holding my hand through it all, silent. God is not far away in the cloudy Heaven, distant and indiferent. God is here, sometimes invisible, sometimes hidden in a friend’s face, sometimes disguised as a beggar at the corner of the street. He comes in our life and often we don’t even see Him, don’t  welcome Him, don’t thank Him. Yet He loves us like nobody else because He is our Father, the eternal Love and Forgiveness. And if He is silent in our life it’s only because that is the only way He can allow us to make our experience and learn our lessons in this life and journey.
For those of you who go alone through the test of pain sometimes, please remember that He is there, invisible, with you, because nobody knows better then Him the absolute solitude of those moments for our human soul. He said it so clear Himself when He was on the cross: “Eli, Eli, lama Sabachthani?”

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Psalm 22 

1 “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?
Why are You so far from helping Me,
And from the words of My groaning?
O My God, I cry in the daytime, but You do not hear;
And in the night season, and am not silent.

But You are holy,
Enthroned in the praises of Israel.
Our fathers trusted in You;
They trusted, and You delivered them.
They cried to You, and were delivered;
They trusted in You, and were not ashamed.

But I am a worm, and no man;
A reproach of men, and despised by the people.
All those who see Me ridicule Me;
They shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying,
“He trusted in the Lord, let Him rescue Him;
Let Him deliver Him, since He delights in Him!”

But You are He who took Me out of the womb;
You made Me trust while on My mother’s breasts.
10 I was cast upon You from birth.
From My mother’s womb
You have been My God.
11  Be not far from Me,
For trouble is near;
For there is none to help.

12  Many bulls have surrounded Me;
Strong bulls of Bashan have encircled Me.
13  They gape at Me with their mouths,
Like a raging and roaring lion.

14 I am poured out like water,
And all My bones are out of joint;
My heart is like wax;
It has melted within Me.
15  My strength is dried up like a potsherd,
And My tongue clings to My jaws;
You have brought Me to the dust of death.

16 For dogs have surrounded Me;
The congregation of the wicked has enclosed Me.
They pierced My hands and My feet;
17 I can count all My bones.
They look and stare at Me.
18 They divide My garments among them,
And for My clothing they cast lots.

19 But You, O Lord, do not be far from Me;
O My Strength, hasten to help Me!
20 Deliver Me from the sword,
My precious life from the power of the dog.
21 Save Me from the lion’s mouth
And from the horns of the wild oxen!

You have answered Me.

22 I will declare Your name to My brethren;
In the midst of the assembly I will praise You.
23 You who fear the Lord, praise Him!
All you descendants of Jacob, glorify Him,
And fear Him, all you offspring of Israel!
24 For He has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted;
Nor has He hidden His face from Him;
But when He cried to Him, He heard.

25 My praise shall be of You in the great assembly;
I will pay My vows before those who fear Him.
26 The poor shall eat and be satisfied;
Those who seek Him will praise the Lord.
Let your heart live forever!

27 All the ends of the world
Shall remember and turn to the Lord,
And all the families of the nations
Shall worship before You.
28 For the kingdom is the Lord’s,
And He rules over the nations.

29 All the prosperous of the earth
Shall eat and worship;
All those who go down to the dust
Shall bow before Him,
Even he who cannot keep himself alive.

30 A posterity shall serve Him.
It will be recounted of the Lord to the next generation,
31 They will come and declare His righteousness to a people who will be born,
That He has done this.”


Follow Your Heart

2497-heart-key-ribbon-tattooevery pain
has somewhere a cure,
every vein
has its drop of blood.
every life
can be insecure,
every flower
grows in a handful of mud.

find your hope,
try not to be hurting,
to be joyful
set the pain apart.
we live life
when we’re not subverting
happiness
by ignoring our heart.
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memyselfandela, 2013


Incubus

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This was the feeling of a cold morning, of the bluest hour
when my breath evaporated bashing against sad painted grey skies.

I was crossing a bridge over deep dreams and cascading thoughts
and over places I wanted so much to see.

Framed in the broken frame of an old story, the dream heard life calling
but stronger was your whisper consuming my body, lost in time.

You were there yet miles away, steps behind in a past unforgiven,
while I was waiting for you, hanging between life and death.

And I kept asking you, calling you, yet your absent mind
didn’t have any answers, only silences carved in cold stone.

In the midst of this nightmare I closed my eyes. And as I tried to imagine you smile
my woman’s heart embraced you crying.
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memyselfandela, 2013


Smaller Evil, Greatest Pain

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Have you ever thought how much power your words, simple words, have? Like asking a question that for us seems to be simple or like telling someone a positive word that can change not only their day, but maybe even their life. Have you ever though of this? If not, let me tell you a story so that you will understand better.
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This is the story of a young woman that has dreamed all her life to have a child. Yet, like in any real life story, what one wishes may end up by not being the same thing with what life brings.
When she was very young, Mary has never thought that having a child might ever be an issue. She grew up among children and she loved them all, and her childhood memories were so very unique and beautiful that she knew she must oneday create that beauty for her baby as well.
Yet as she grew up she witnessed situations of young girls having unwanted pregnancies and she heard people talking with a mean passion about those unhappy situations. So as she matured she was rather stressed by the thought of getting pregnant too soon or unmarried. In her heavily religious environment and judgemental society, among neighbours and people that were more than curious about all the pain and all that anyone around does in the constant hunger for sensational and gossip, Mary knew that this is a very delicate issue. A personal issue it should have been, but the world she was living in made it much more complicated than that.
So, because she was a responsible human being and after much thinking, Mary ended up oneday by taking the contraceptive pill. Of course from a religious point of view it was a great sin, and also none of her friends gave her any advice on that . Also her mother was not open minded enough to talk to her about life. And having an unapproachable mother made it not easy for her to take decisions, but she made her choices thinking of choosing the smaller evil.
Years later, after getting married and when she thought it would be time to have a child, Mary gave up on the contraceptive pill. But that day has been only the first day of a life she would have never imagined.
After the time passed she realised that the dream she carried in her soul was slipping away from her, little by little. She understood that something was wrong with her. But at the same time she had to face the mean enquieries and curiosity of a whole cortege of family and friends who were asking her again and again the same idiotic question: “when are you finally going to have a child? Your bloodline will die.” To make things even worst, all her relatives, friends, neigbours and work colleagues were having babies one after another. It seemed like life was making a giant prank on her expense. And every time when she saw other women around holding their children in their arms she felt like dying more and more.
She hoped then that going to a specialist will solve the problem, but that did not happen. Instead she was sent from specialist to specialist and none was good enough to figure out what was wrong with her. Or maybe her dream was not yet meant to come true.
And she gave a serious thought to adoption, but as much as she loved children, not only that adopting was very complicated, but also even without having a child of her own she knew that the bound to a child of her own blood must have been something different and stronger.
After years of battle on her own , as none in her family supported her, Mary ended up by closing in herself and not talking to anyone anymore. She avoided talking to all the people that have hurt her in the past with their lack of sensibility and questions. She left her husband, she kept distance from all the family. She felt like her life was very much doomed and cursed, and so she ended up by burying that loving heart she used to have, to burry it so very deep that she could no longer hear that voice of unspoken pain that she had accumulated over years and years of failing and not being supported in any way.
To Mary this was a wasted life. Little it mattered to her that she helped others or that she cared for people’s pain becuase she knew exactly what pain is.
She used to keep inside long conversations with God and ask for forgiveness for all those years in her life when  she used the contraceptive pill, and she asked for forgiveness for what she considered to be the heaviest sin of her life, a sin that nobody could have erased to release her from the endless curse.
She used to sit in the park sometimes watching the children play, with a heavy heart, with a smile on her face but an endless sorrow flooding her being.
One day, talking about her life to someone, a stranger that knew nothing about her life, she was answered: “You are such a special woman that God still needs a lot of time to create a soul for your child. It takes longer for you than for other women because your child will be the most special gifted little soul you have ever seen, and many will envy you.”
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Here is where the story stops. Little matters what happened next. Life is open and Mary could have seen her dream come true, or maybe she ended up by dying alone and still dreaming of her little child and aching for every year when she grew older on her own.
It is often in life that we cannot come close to understanding someone else’s pain and life struggle, as we can only see with our subjective eyes and understand nothing but our problems. Often we have no sensibility towards other people and their pains.
And we often judge other people’s pain as “not as bad as ours”, because “our pain is the greatest”.
Is this a corect way of seeing life? If we are centered only on what we feel and need and experience and don’t think what sort of feelings we give others, what sort of a life are we living and what are we?

memyselfandela, 2013


Roses for My Father

Tonight, at this hour, the date has already changed in Romania, my homeland. It’s the 24th of June. Day of celebration for Christians as it’s the day of birth of Saint John the Baptist. Day of celebration even for the people that believe in magic, as it’s considered a magic night/day.
To me though this day means something else. Today my father would have had his 65th birthday. My dad who went to God 25 years ago. I can still remember his laughter. Not much of other details , but I can still remember how he used to laugh with tears sometimes. He was such a joyful man, kind, helpful, he loved life so much…And I know he had his flaws too, but for me he is my dad, IS my dad and I don’t ever consider him dead, only departed in a better place where he is waiting for us to meet again.
I know that my father watches over me and today I am thinking of  him. I do so every day, but today, in a more special way.
So dad, you know that I love you and that I often miss you, but that is only until I realise that I have you always with me. And the simple thought that one day I will hold you in my arms again brings tears of joy and hope in my heart.
May God rest you in His peace until we meet again. From me a song that you loved so much. And the present of the flowers that you love the most, special like you, noble like your noble soul.  Roses for my father, Ioan (John).

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Only Your Poet

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I was nobody’s poet writing about sadness at the corner of an empty street
till you passed my way one day and your love started to shine over me.

I was young and bold and marooned, and my verses were strung
Just like dead bleeding pearls on a silky thread.

I was nobody’s heart decomposing in a rubbish bin
till you found me one day and warmed me and made me feel alive.

I was carved in the cheapest wood and nobody would have looked at me
till you saw my beauty and took me and you made me feel at home.

When the morning comes and I hear you next to me
unheard songs grow in my fingertips ready to embrace you.

Share your beauty, you said, so the world knows that it exists.
Yet my lips bloom like a rose in a smile, and it’s only for you.

And the joy of my soul is the genuine happiness of a child’s heart.
And I don’t care what the world thinks, I am only your poet.

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memyselfandela, June 2013


Cookie of the day

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Black & White

Happy Sunday Dear Friends!

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Today

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Lazy morning, no big worries, just a plan to go to the city. A day that might start like any other, that could be dull or beautiful. Is it the destiny to decide? Or is it my choice?
Before I go out of the door I want to taste something I had in my fridge, but that I was keeping for “better days”. Yet you know, as I sit here I realise that when we only think in terms of “better days”, “tomorrow”, “soon” or “later”, nothing happens, and often that postponed happiness never comes. It’s like never having the guts to just LIVE and BE HAPPY.
So TODAY I decide that there’s no tomorrow. TODAY is the only day that I have, maybe the last day of my life, maybe the first of the rest of it. So TODAY is the creme brulee day.
When I crack the crust of my creme brulee millions of memories invade my brain and soul. This treat used to be a Sunday treat in the family of my mother, in times when we, children, used to gather in my grandmother’s house and get around the table with an unspoken desire to taste the heavenly sweetness of what my aunt or grandmother had prepared. Only the sight of this steaming beauty used to make me smile at that time.
I remember how it used to be prepared, with fresh eggs from our courtyard hens, fresh milk and care and love, but mostly with a patience that me, the child of that time, did not posess, as for my restless soul the only wish was to taste the result.
Now with my adult mind I remember all that. But I also remember things found out much later. Like the unhappy marriage of my aunt, like the way her husband was beating and abusing her and how she decided to suffer and accept it all for the love of her children, children that also did not treat her right when they were always naughty and mean towards her, copying the ugly attitude of their father towards this woman that in my eyes was nothing but love and patience, just like a saint. She did suffer it all till the last day of her sad painful life because her mother, my grandmother, tought her that “it’s such a shame to divorce, and people talk”.
Now she moved to heaven, life has continued without her battered hands and hard working spirit, without her patience. Maybe now her children regret her, now that their life has no more love and guidance. Now the son that was laughing at his mother hates his father, but that is another story.
When I taste creme brulee I remember life itself. But mostly I remember innocence and childhood. I remember the garden and the columbines I used to pick and how amazed I used to be by all that beauty of free summer days, like a child without worries and with little dreams in the heart, small dreams, full of light, light like the fluffs of dandelions flying around… The age of innocence when every feeling felt so intense, as the feelings were bigger than my tiny heart and they were bursting me with sadness or joy…
And as I sit here and remember all these images coming out of my memories, with sounds, tastes, colours, laughter and tears, I realise what a fragile thing life is, how much a moment can mean and how profound it can be to just sit and remember. I remember all the departed, in an absolute love and gratitude. As I know that they watch over me and all the others left in my family. They are our shining stars , not lost, but living in a dimension connected to ours, and waiting for us to get back to them in memories, to hold them and cherish them until oneday we will meet again.
TODAY is a day for creme brulee. TODAY I  can dive in my childhood, TODAY I am alive, TODAY I embrace life and through life all around. TODAY, even if the sun might not shine outside, it radiates out of my beating heart.

whatisacolumbine

700 words, memyselfandela, June 2013


The Eyes of Love


I found love in my mother’s eyes
Keeping her baby asleep
In the shelter of her heart
And in my father’s eyes
When came back home
Late at night

I saw love in the eyes of the newly weds
Snow flowing from heaven
Dressing them in white
And in the eyes of children
Running free, smiling
Picking  flowers

I saw love in the eyes of the soldier
Holding at his chest like a treasure
His killed comrade:
Tears falling endlessly
From the eyes of the living
On the cheeks of the dead

But the Eyes of Love, I have found them only once
In an old Church with heavenly doors wide open:
Endless eyes, with the irises of the sky full of stars
Endlessly loving
And endlessly healing
The wounds of our wide open eyes.

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memyselfandela, 2013


Alba

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White Bird, shake your wing over me
Snow on my lashes with white snow flakes, graciously, silently, vapour like
Strew on the top of my head your wisdom.
Once I did not know you, I was living my life without your song
I was speaking so many words and did not understand any …
Now I have embaced you, you are me, I am silent.
Oh how beautiful it snows with oblivion in my eyes…
When you will fly away, I don’t want to be left behind,
Cover me with your wing, Solitude.
——————————————————–
Pasăre albă, scutură-ți aripa deasupra mea
Ninge-mi genele cu fulgi albi, grațios, tăcut, vaporos
Presară-mi pe creștet înțelepciunea ta.
Cândva nu te cunoșteam, îmi trăiam viața fără cântecul tău,
Vorbeam atâtea cuvinte și nu înțelegeam nici unul…
Acum te-am îmbrățișat, tu ești eu, eu tac.
Ce frumos ninge cu uitare în ochii mei…
Când vei zbura nu vreau să râmân în urmă,
Acoperă-mi inima cu aripa ta, Singurătate.

memyselfandela, 2011


LOVE IS.

When she talked about love it was almost like talking about life itself. It has been a lifelong quest and mystery. Yet with her adult mind she could finally get close to what love was and what love wasn’t.
When she was young she imagined love must be a sort of peaceful place, very much like her home used to be when mom and dad didn’t argue violently because he drank too much or because something went terribly wrong. She knew things were not right with mom and dad, yet they were her only image of love.
And then , after dad was gone, her love image started to fade. Love was for her a place far away from that heartbreak and sadness and tension she used to feel floating in the air of that tiny place she used to call home. Home felt no longer like home…Love was the escape from that sad prison, was a pair of arms to hold her with no word instead of constantly blaming her for not being the perfect child. Love was a sunny day far far away…
Years have passed and she had grown. She had no idea how other women were like, she only knew that in her childish way of feeling life and the world she will one day find out what love is. She gave her best to the men in her life. Yet none of them ever came close to make her feel loved. She got so used to see them preoccupied only by themselves and their needs and wants, by their rules and pleasures, never looking at what she feels, never trying to ever make her smile, never caring… In the end they were for her a list of people, each one with other huge qualities and flaws, each one turning his back in their sleep instead of holding her near, each one thinking only about their damn control and desires, never about the beauty of love and life together… At that point she accepted that probably she was never to find the love. She was tired. Tired of always giving it all and seeing the man in her life only take and never care about filling up her soul with something too. Tired of feeding his soul with trust, strength, hope, tired of putting a shoulder to forever solve his problems and never getting to live a day when he was finally done with those problems and looked at her. Tired of being robbed of ideas and feelings, of giving all her love just to receive sometimes a friendly kiss… Tired of treating all like kings when they treated her like a pauper that needs to wait and forever be understanding and patient for one day, one day love will be possible. And that one day never came.
Some called her muse,  some good friend, some empath, some angel, and funny thing, they all said they loved her even if they didn’t because they were too busy loving themselves. They have all regreted her when she left. But she knew that none had really loved her. They were in love with how good she made them feel about themselves, not in love with her.
One day she knew that the change was there. She was tired of being alone. She was tired of giving love to people that could not love. She knew that she doesn’t need to proove anyone anything, because she was beautiful and that was all. She was, just because. She knew that she doesn’t need any man to tell her how golden she is. That she doesn’t care anymore if they ever had or made time for her. That it didn’t pain her anymore, for she had all the time in the world now, and she was no longer exclusively anyones but belonged only to herself. That was the day when she realised that SHE WAS THE LOVE. That she was healed of the lack of confidence and of all that cursed lifelong pain.

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Love is patient, love is kind, love is childlike. Love does not feed the ego, but cares about the soul. Love IS. With no excuses, postponing, selfishness… It simply IS.

Do not think it, live it. In private, behind a closed door or in the open, regardless of the way how others judge you.

Love, true love, the capital “L” love, doesn’t need legal papers, money, it’s not a choice, it’s your number one priority, for if it’s true love, it fills up your soul so much that you can’t see anything and anyone else. And if you don’t feel it there, if you have to ask for it, beg for it, if you are the constant giver, if you forever need to wait for it to work, or if that love needs pretexts to be able to even start, then dear friend, keep going.

Trust me, one day you will understand what LOVE IS.

tumblr_m6bs6fHmQZ1r8m9xho1_500memyselfandela, 2013


Voice

Some might tell you it’s only noise
Others will say it’s just music
Yet don’t believe a thing, simply listen.
Hear this grave voice, this is no longer a bare cello
It’s my very heart, this metal heartbeat is my very life
This sound is the blood running through my veins.
Rather than take it away from me just kill me,
This is my passion, the voice of my love.

memyselfandela, June 2013


Dance / Dans

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Let’s dance, you told me, let’s dance…
White music embraces us, white birds float over us,
It snows with snow of dreams, snow of silence, snow of angel tears…
Let us dance love, I say,  let us dance…
——————————————————
Hai să dansăm, mi-ai spus, hai să dansăm…
Muzică albă ne îmbrățișează, păsări albe plutesc peste noi,
Ninge cu zăpăda de vise, zăpadă de tăcere, ninsoare de lacrimi de înger…
Hai să dansăm iubire, îți zic,  hai să dansăm…

memyselfandela, June 2013


Real

kiss

I don’t know how to tell you
All that I feel for you
Only my breath touching your breath
Gets close to this truth.

I dive in my heart
To spend time with my feelings.
I love them all, I embrace them and heal them
And set them all free.

Beyond dark days and hardship
I rise like a sun to guide you
My lighthouse shines for you in starless nights
So that you can find your way.

Don’t try to understand
The mystery that feeds this light
Just embrace it and smile
For it’s alive and real.

———————————–

memyselfandela, June 2013


E lucevan le stelle

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Even if our wings would ridge the heaven
we would not melt the cold chains pulling us towards the ground …
I pass my lead fingers through your hair and lose myself in your arms …
Your forehead alone radiates heat on my forehead …
I’m hiding in your eyes, extending the light of my eyes, bridge for our sorrow and joy …
The fear of collapsing in ourselves is looking at us over our crushed shoulders….
Come, open wide your eyes, let’s not get lost …
What could lift us anew? Self-denial, the hope in the world, hoping in someone else? …
Do you still remember the path?
We got lost in words, come and find me …
We had a glimpse of the way back to ourselves, from me to you, your heart beating in my heart …
And the stars were shining …

memyselfandela, 2010


Rambler

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My identity disolved in long sleepless nights
is no longer relevant
and my wishes and dreams are gone with the wind
since I understood that this rambler love doesn’t stop
yet every time when it’s coming
I caress its cheek with the same sweetnes, like always.
I didn’t ask for anything, I always give it all
and I have its memory to fill me up.
I was, and I don’t know what I was,
and I am, and I don’t know what I am,
maybe just the ear that hears its pain
and the eye that cries its tears.

memyselfandela, 2013


Black & White

 

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Tonight Romanian Akcent


Stay With Me

star

Life should be a sunny day
Not the endurance of a painful flow
Nor prison of cold memories
Or doomed place that holds us enchained,
Nailed to a sensless ground,
Numb and hopeless.

When we look at our glass
It shouldn’t be half full of misery
With bitterness on the rim.
After loss and sadness
We can refill our glass
With the most beautiful dream.

Close and real, beyond all,
Here you stay with me when the lights go down
You, the only glimpse of light I foresee
After nightmares.
And the sorrow melts
As I breathe you, Love.

memyselfandela, June 2013


I miss you

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I miss you in a dimension where no moment is robbed, guilty or cursed.
I miss you and I’ll never call you, for you have not yet created the path to me.
I miss you , and the thought that you are away pains me so much that I don’t speak your name.
I miss you, body that complets my rib, right here, where you should just be and stay.

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memyselfandela, June 2013


Dream

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I am no poet, don’t be fooled
And this is no poetry
It’s just a message in a broken bottle.

I am no lover, don’t be fooled
My passionate lips on your shivering soul
Are just a projection of heat.

This is no life, don’t be fooled
This dream has not even started
And the dreamer might not even get born.
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memyselfandela, June 2013