Speaking In Tongues
Scribbling In Voices
Two Poems About Goodbye
We belong to the far-away land...
Feed your sorrow to the fire...
* * *
We belong to the far-away
To the world of a strangest belief,
That my heart is a shell on the sand,
While your heart is a red maple leaf.
Our palaces soaring between
Earth and heaven are soaked in mist.
Crystal domes... They are not to be seen.
Though we've always believed they exist.
When the sequence is broken, the haze
Of uncertainty leakes through the crack.
When the wind sets your forest ablaze
Autumn comes and it's time to go back.
You will see many faces of Fall,
Many old and peculiar lands
And «goodbye» is a red rubber ball
Rolling slowly into your hands
* * *
Feed your sorrow to the
To the last reluctant spark,
And your memories will die or
Disappear in the dark.
Nothing here will remind you
Of August left
In the kindom of the blind,
Music of the deaf.
Fold your notes, tie your letters
With nostalgic strings.
Nothing happens. Nothing matters
Till the doorbell rings.
Break the law of natural causes,
Let your guest
Draw a map of awkwad pauses
On your chest
Drink your coffee, read your daily
Walk along a yellow alley.
Not too bad
Dig your feet into September
But remember me, remember,