Edward Delug. Drop wild poetry Soft ... (№ 388768)

Drop wild poetry
Soft calligraphy for the fault of our bodies
As the petals swing in the wind...
Idols of the wind touch your hair,
Metaphors rethink everything....
The images of fugitives,
Without touching the fingers struggle to reach the notes.
To achieve no more than a glance and a voice
Barely breathing
That nothing prevented the birth and death of sound.
Inspiration needs air of Eros.
Pedigree sheet and blood
Candle will melt in your hands
and will take care of the black and white dust.
Drunk from the sounds of light
Sink into the sweet abyss of the owner,
Descend into the river of love
And time flows parallel to the water.
Poets never were any gods or women
There was only God and she was a Goddess.
Poetry - kids game, intentions and shadows,
The utterance itself,
A shiver of awe and immersion into the eyes depth.
Dressed as the Muse, the memory of the roses in your blood.
White mirror Lorca.
Poetry without words, and the throat - which tears of joy.
Virginity
Greeters outcrop guilty purity.
Husky tool ecstasy.
Trembling stars.
Shadows blur the outlines of the poems...
Halo rhymes encircles the wrist...
Seamless tunic,
Milk and wine,
7 phonemes that were in bloom at your approach...
The white DOE plastic stanzas
Where hunting arrow remained lifeless.
Strong step that is a terrible and wonderful -
Triumphant TRANS touch.
This rare beauty is to be.
A woman of my gospel,
With the wind I read your nearness,
Your flaming title
Your ascended hardcover
With your mournful wisdom
And steep cliffs thirst.
In your sky above the roar of battles, insatiable vanity,
Your feeling
You were holding a book with blank pages
At this moment it was my first Psalm.