Flood

You were just water, but you felt like blood

You were the swells of a hundred year flood

You left and I was left covered  in mud

The promise of springtime was nipped in the bud

Flat

I blew a tire on the road to adventure

Now I’m stuck between there and home

The cars speeding past  have got places to be

And I should not have struck out alone 

Small

I am a drop

In an ocean of voices

My words are a grain

On a beach full of sand

Each thought is a leaf

That is blown on the breeze

Yet I release truths

With the taps from my hand

I may be small

My voice may be faint

But this is my canvas

And words are my paint

I’ll keep on shouting

Into the abyss

In the hopes someone hears me

And finds what they miss

People – Gente – Oameni

valeriu dg barbu

Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian language

There are people who took the flowers in the arms only once
The last once…
.
There are people, who have not loved… not even the Love,
a kind of humility in boldness
.
People who have the only one shelter in the insults, in the curses,
forgetting its bitterness with the simple passage
over the threshold of the tavern
.
People who hide their illness
beyond from the most beautiful words
nobody, nobody committed suicide from too much compassion of others…
.
People totally invisible without care of opposites
of the poetic gesture of nature –
living in a feeling of great voluptuousness
.
People – nobody, more than seven billion
Nobody

Image

photo by John Galbreath

C’è gente che colto i fiori tra le braccia una volta sola
l’ultima…
.
C’è gente che non ha amato neanche l’amore,
una sorta di umiltà…

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Help! I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!

Most people who need help ask for it often, but it is rarely in the form of the words, “Can you please help me?” Though it would be clearer for everyone if this were the case, it is in no way an easy thing to say. Our society places great emphasis on independence and self-reliance. While this is not inherently a bad thing, it has the unfortunate side-effect of making people fear the (very human) need of assistance from others.
So often, a cry for help is disguised. It may appear as a whiny Facebook post. Sometimes it is a cryptic tweet. Occasionally, it is a text that just says, “Hey,” from a friend you haven’t talked to in a while or a message from a high school classmate who never really talked to you. Whatever the disguise, the message behind them is the same: “Please care enough to see through my mask and offer me some help.” The more we train ourselves to see through the veiled pain and act kindly in response, the fewer people have to suffer unseen and unheard. It hurts no one to offer a helping hand or a listening ear. Sometimes, even sincerely letting a person know that you want to help them is enough, even if there is nothing you can do.
So please, help me in my quest to help others. Recognize the different disguises and let people know you see the person in need behind the mask. And for goodness sake, ask someone for help if you need it!

Weight

I placed a brick on my mouth

A rock in my throat

A wall around my chest

A cannonball in each hand

Anvils tied to my feet

It takes this much weight

To keep from lashing out

From screaming

From hurling the abuse

Back in your face

I see what you do to him

Reunion

How did years pass

In near silence

Running from each other

Hurt here, pain there

Collecting harms

Let’s begin again

Come unarmed

Trim the bad

Let the good grow and flourish

Put the pain away

We can be each other’s joy once more

Future Time

“It’s time to move on”

She thought inside her head

“It’s time to stop observing”

She said

“It’s time to start making my own life more interesting

Than that of those around me.”

She stated

“It’s time to leave the past just where it lay!”

She proclaimed

“It’s time to jump headfirst into now!”

She yelled

“I’m coming for you, Future – be prepared.”

Corridor

She ran down the corridor, searching desperately.

“It isn’t yours anymore,” he said.

“Well it sure as hell isn’t yours!” she called back at him.

He sighed and turned around.  She stopped in her tracks.

Without facing him, she whispered, “I can’t stop looking, even if it will never be mine.”

“I know.”

They stood there for a long while with their backs to each other.  Her eyes continued to dance in every direction.  His looked right through the solid wall.

“I wish you luck,” he said when the silence finally overwhelmed him.  He stood there a while longer, waiting for a response.

She heard the click of the door closing behind him just as she was about to speak.

“I miss you,” she breathed.