Apr 13, 2011

Poem

Women in brown trousers

She was walking
through life

in brown trousers

her face
had no expressions,
blue eyes
got grey,
her skin was pale

emotions
hidden behind
a veil

sensuality
drowned,
promiscuousity
denied,
fantasies lost
in realities

still,
not dead,
but alive,
sensitive to others

warm
as sand in Bengal sun,
under her brown trousers

Reflections

The beauty of soul
is seen
through crystal,
its colours,
change in the
light of life,
has its
roots in
a big heart,
making thoughts
of the good,
its seeds
find its footsteps
in to the
unknown future

Bridges of Madison County
One can not really
tell,
in ordinary words,
unique as it is,
different,
strong and scary

an untold story
of inner personalities
and humanity,
sensible feelings,
hidden behind
a mask
of normality

still,
doors wide open
to
images made
of golden threads,
never seen before

poems easily born

an awakening time,
sensing
a depth to far to reach,
walking with loneliness,
struggling
to find daily routines,
gratitude
for overwhelming experience,
like
Bridges of Madison County


Circle of living life

Sweet dreams,
my lips,
rich of colours,
flourish like a flower,
smiles softly,
red and warm

look,
my wrinkles,
not two,
but perhaps
millions,
they are
shining paths
on my skin

mirror says it:
My breasts
does not blossoms,
they are rather thin,
but still,
they are my very own
A joy!

what has happen
with my waist?

before I was slim
and feisty,
but life is good,
with
cream and sugar
and
happy moments
with
a glass of wine or two

fruits of passions
feels dry,
sour and rough,
what to do?

one feel shy and shaky,
let it happen carefully

do not touch
my legs,
they are not
my best,
but dance I will
and dance I do

I am alive
and so are you

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