Sunday coffee

Westerpark

The Fate

body

My body doesn't belong to me
only a distant bark of a dog
connects us
clothed with smiles
he goes to meet people
rolls his lifes
on their eyelashes
so many trustful eyes
wriggle under his feet

he gathers in his footsteps
and thoughtfully
he
slowly
comes
home

Morning

lonely
with concrete birds all over
table
with benches in its armpits
waits
for a visit of
a ladybird
on a big white surface she
dances
and whispers morning stories
for him


(p.s. it was a non-writing days...)

fish and the garden

there was a winter some time ago..

and now it's spring

here is my home


eating fish :)

spring garden

daily food

forest walk

old and grey groaning path
through a green floor
deeper
I go through dampness

the pinewood glooms around
six hundred wolfs
asleep upon the shaven sod
grow into my feet
I can't move inside this
hag of forest
whispers from the darkness:
good child, go to sleep

four-legged
I wake up
in the morning

Užuolaidos

senos bobutės pritvinkę paslapčių
savo kūnais saugo mus nuo pašalinių akių
siurbia šnabždesius namų
aplipę dulkėm praeičių

kai namas atveria langus
pavėjui jos eina šokti tango
barstyti istorijų senų

vakarais jų akys žiba iš žvakių šviesos
sumirkę nuo pudros tamsos
aš nebyluman susisupu jų
ir svajoti ateities einu

sunday breakfast

just small but cosy. jusf for myself. just in time when everybody still sleep. just when snow fall on the heads of spring birds singing outside.

untitled

when the blue pain covers
my eyes go to polar bears
to leave my bones behind
in white snow

wrapped up in sour sea wind
I breath the secrets of fish
water fills my mouth
I sink into fluffy calmness

waving around my head
deep airs tickle my bright thoughts
with wet feet light apathy
curls itself into my future

boring blueness on plain
dreaming crumbles the angry stars
closed in infinite thinking
goes deep into my future

žmonės žmonės ką padarėt...

kas su manim negerai?
kodėl viskas eina tik velniop, negali kilti ir augti?
kažkas sudužo seniai prieš tris metus, vis dar jaučiu skonį burnoj, po to pavasarį, po to dabar. ką aš darau ne taip? be atsakymų, tik nebyliai užduoti klausimai nebūtin.

atleiskite man, kad esu, nes nebūti neišdrįstu.