Poem inspired by the lovely spanish poet,Begoña Abad.
I learn, while I collect words, that the important thing is not the harvest, it is the gesture of bending down. The lower I am, the better the landscape is seen.
I write my poems,
I paint my pictures,
I sing my music,
Everything that is off and forgotten about my most hidden parts goes from being something that has no life to a thing that has personality and purpose.
I want to feel, live everything that I have written and predestined myself in the blood that runs through my veins, and I want to write it all down, leave it as a memory, in the diary of my infinite and immortal existence, while I get excited and take for granted having this human experience, mortal and dignified, humble and spontaneous.
Thank goodness that the consequences of my innocent sins, irrefutably ignorant, did not arrive in time to prevent me from being cut off, on any given night, by the verses that come from the fleshiest core of my soul, that still keep me alive.
But the truth that I will always have burning inside me, from top to bottom, stirring everything that I am, is that verse is soul.
CITEȘTI
The poetry of my unspoken realm
PoesieThis is my inner world written as poetry and expressed creatively in other different forms as well. These are my poems on philosophical content,existencial questions,love,nostalgy,friendship,and much more. The poems in this book are based on my expe...
