Stay with me

For a mere few seconds the jellyfish-like exterior reacted to my fingers by creating ripples, starting from my index as the epicenter and spreading evenly in circles. It was almost as if breathing, a thin layer of muscle moving rhythmically to intake life, to experience being me in that odd moment like exchanging bodies within a single touch. I lit up a hookah and through that eerie blue smoke I stared back at the now motionless nucleus, fascinated by the prospect of what genesis would arise from that silent spinning cauldron. It grew within me, from the center in between my stomach and my liver, like an up lifting cello concerto in E minor, steadily, building up then exploding with such shear intensity that I started crying. I realized in that moment that I watched my own birth, the journey that started at the root of the tree of life. I was me, and you and all of us, and I was seeing through the eyes of millions and had a million pair of hands to grasp reality in a million breaths.

I laid next to you on our bed, half covered by the white sheets, and I stroked your cheek lightly, you opened your eyes and I gaze inside for that full blown second to look for the mechanism that made you tick. All I could see was blue smoke… The lights went out.

I was staring at the alarm clock that sat on my night stand as if at six o’clock sharp it would spring legs, arms and a tiny little head and start to dance while singing. I put my hand on the stop button before it could become the reason for the usual morning havoc. The sheets were ruffled after not so much of a good night sleep and so was my hair considering the reflection on my reading glasses. But after all, how accurate could that be, it was always all over the place. I smiled and with a good reason, my mind still drifting off at the thought of your touch on my skin… I bit my lower lip and looked to see if you were still asleep, and so you were. After nudging away the temptation of mercilessly changing that with a well positioned pillow, I changed strategies and decided it’s best you got a good rest. So I kissed the back of your neck as softly as I could, an action that triggered the butterfly effect, and walked away into the balcony hoping for a invigorating breath of cool air.

While I was still full of wanderlust, I was no longer restful. There would be anywhere and anywhere would be there, as long as my heart was with me.


The gallery was full of strangers lurking about, people of high interest with a pure passion of being seen rather than see. I was wearing a long, black dress for the occasion and tried to avoid having to shake hands with everybody or explain what concepts were behind my photographs by hiding in the dark room. It was my special place where I could be alone only with my work, and still never feel lonely, I had all their stories to get submerged into. Some of them I never exposed, my selfishness showing through that; I wouldn’t want them to be spoiled by being looked at and analyzed with unworthy eyes. I had fresh prints put up to dry, a new black and white collection, scenes representative for the human concept of trial and error. I have seen a place where death and forgetfulness thrived, but even under those ruins a spark of life was gleaming where man had abandoned all hope and left. Clothes left to dry in the timeless wind hanged onto wires in front of opened windows. The air had no taste nor odor, the city’s eyelids were closed and it was weeping silently. The silence was almost deafening, a mute echo of a communist spring. Those images said more than all the words could say, it was almost unbearable to be human and part of the mistake.


The last man

I can still sketch the first of your words to have entered my poetic memory at that time when I felt as light as the air I was breathing, and even now as I’m strapped down with an ardor that weighs more than my soul I can still hear that laughter in the crisp cold of winter and see my hand help you get up from that gray tinted snow. That portal you mentioned was never created, but the link had been that night, gripping now to the beginning of the nod of links that create my very own existence. A charming, irritating, blissful vertigo blooming vertically into a tree of life as beautiful as the world underneath us and its entrance, the passage in Orion’s belt .
How everything came to be is a fuzzy process that grew unintentionally but was still well cared for by the hands of two people that wished for it. Like letting your mind be joined at your feet and travel inside to conquer everything about yourself as himself by the theory that Platon once formulated involving one itself as a whole.
Looking back at it feels like peeking from behind a door at a mammoth sized maze that seems to have started growing in lives before. I would like to believe that there are no such things as coincidences but at the same time I don’t want to let pass such an idea that my choices have been made by something or somebody else, even worse that they are somehow genetically inscribed.
I believe words limit and don’t do justice in a way to certain feelings like love, joy or sadness.
My world is a topsy-turvy image of what it used to be without you, sitting on a hill joined by that sweet company wouldn’t feel boring anymore, but peaceful in a complicated hybrid emotion like sleeping with one’s dream.

I have had my hand at solving Rubik’s cube, but that stream of patience never settled its float inside of me for so long as to actually give me enough time to crack the dragon’s skull; that until one day. I was walking down one night on cardiac serpentines, minding my own thoughts as I kept them locked in colorfully patterned balloons, holding them by their bright red string. Spheres of light interspersed the various pathways that spread to the hills, their orange glow warming the ground above which they floated. My bare feet were delighted by that flavor, gnawed at by the cold and embraced by the tingling sensation of pure light. The cherry trees were swaying in the chilly wind, and as I approached the mirror of water that led to it, their petals were blown away by a powerful gust, now settling softly around its heavily armored trunk. I noticed you kneeling next to the Ceiba tree, gazing at Xibalba, but I did not rush to embrace you, no, I fell in fascination in the blanket of petals, my hair coming down my shoulders as I closed my eyes. I kept staring at you like at a ghost of lives past, looking in those reptilian eyes I could’ve recognized in the beginning of time. That’s when Rubik’s cube opened itself to me, a small piece of universe encased in a space loop ever moving, ever shifting in its stillness. The invisible bars of confinement, the memory of its imagination.

And as I turned that way I moved logic in all my dreams, from  hanging gardens in the desert to lakes bordered by medieval walls. Around them sidewalks, often the walking pleasure of ladies dressed in umbrella gowns, had been paved with golden bricks. The plastic smiles of the aristocratic ladies stung me through my humble drop waist dress as I walked past them, advancing counterclockwise to the rest of the world. I pretended not to care how their slender bodies managed to summon the waters by performing gracious movements I was not able of and wandered through the forest, where my faithful pond awaited. I stumbled onto the root of a severed tree trunk and fell flat on my face, close enough to the margin of the water to feel the dents created by the shield. For millennia I have touched the shell of a transparent egg that hosted a translucent liquid similar to water, there was something in it that called for my recollection of its existence, of a future in the past. My fingers lightly stroked the surface and then I lay in shock.

Cum am cunoscut vidul

– sau lipsa contrastului dintre stereotipie si dementa in palmele mele, mai trista decat zborul fara pene. Cumva, undeva ma pierdusem in muntii de guma aromata si nu oricum, la fiecare sfarsit de labirint coseam cate un pitic ca sa-mi poarte noroc. Cumva undeva totusi am muscat din mar, m-a sarutat o Eva si Adam a refuzat sa ma mai iubeasca, inca nu-i crescusera aripi sa poata zbura din cutia Pandorei; el a ramas cu speranta, iar eu, eu am pierdut totul.
Lacul s-a miscorat pana la dimensiunile unei balti si orasul ma sufoca de la solduri in sus, mi-am ascuns mainile de teroare in intuneric, nu vroiam sa le predau Edenului, erau tot ce mai aveam. Armele astea n-au ucis niciodata fiindca n-au avut idee cum, desi pe degetul aratator drept inca scria Iarta-ma toate gloantele erau oarbe.


As vrea sa-ti spun buna dimineata

Sufletul meu e o entitate plina
de pasari cu voci sublime;
-suspendate in globuri de lumina
pe scari crescendo-
el asteapta ca pasii tai indepartati
sa sune in ecou pe coridoare, prin
spatii ventriculare, multiplicandu-se
in intensitate la fiecare pulsatie
urca, hai sopteste-mi, ma doare
sa-ti simt respiratia atat de departe
dar imi urla fiinta de fericire
de cand cuvintele tale
s-au adunat in pieptul meu,
arzand toate sigurantele rand pe rand
iar acum esenta ta imi circula prin vene
incat am ajuns dependenta de fericire,
de acea senzatie ce iti arde sangele
la fiecare gand.

Prepost impressionism

Prepost impressionism
[pentru tine]

Iti promit ca
mainile mele nu sunt arme cu gloante oarbe
indreptate spre sufletele pierdute
din gradinile Edenului;

-printre degete imi curg rauri de nisip divin
din care cresc ate legate de zmei-

Zmeii mei zboara
spre ceruri cu sori de moda veche;
ei se inchina doar acelui univers
ce se imprastie fabulous pe pergament
in pudra de carbune si stele

Sufletul imi flutura in noapte
cand dorm cu fereastra deschisa
langa morile de vant;
ele se invart si el fuge prin lanuri verzi,
sub stele inflamabile ca praful de pusca

Parul meu din panglici rosii
se iubeste cu pielea ta in atingeri
de matase sau poate
fiorii vin din buzele tale dionisiene,
din izvorul cu ferestre

Traim intr-un desen animat
fiindca avem ochii pictati cu acrilice;
culorile se joaca pe hartie
in motiune stop-cadru,
curtandu-se prudent
ca undele de soc si dinamita

Ti-am spus oare
de ce picioarele mele sunt
facute din baloane furate
de la clovni
ce le umfla cu heliu?

Am fugit cu circul portughez
inainte sa-mi vina mintea la cap;
am vrut sa invat omizile sa zboare
fara frica de inaltimi
sa se transforme in fluturi de ianuarie

Si DACA as avea radacini de cires
as inflori MEREU ca artificiile
sa sarbatoresc eliberarea de sine
si pictarea in ulei a povestilor noastre
pe noaptea stelara.

Stam agatati cu zambetele
de o fasie din luna si
ne privim orasul albastru.


“You can’t stay in Kansas forever, Dorothy,“ a soft voice whispered in her ear, “ the cyclone is coming for you, and it’s your choice whether you go seek Oz and his help or wait for the Witches to hunt you down for your silver shoes.”
“I have no silver shoes, Toto. As a child I thought I got lost in Wonderland, but unlike Alice I had no sister to wake me up for tea so I am here to stay”, she replied in a calm tone that reflected her lucid dream like state.
“You’re no more of an adult now then you were back then, Solaine. And I can tell you’re afraid, more afraid then you’ve been all those years ago.”
“You are mistaken”, she said sharply.
“Am I now? “
“I’m not afraid of the outside world as you seem to believe, and the child you knew no longer lives inside of me”, the young woman uttered half-convinced of her own words.
Silence lingered on for a while, none of them making a sound as if there would be nothing else to be said. She turned in the grass and opened her eyes to face his. Her look became puzzled when she realized the man’s silhouette was looming over hers, the rays of blue light creating a weird halo out of his wild hair. She tried to shun the sun away by covering her sight partially with her forearm, which to her annoyance, was not of much help. An innocent smile lightened up her face and she let the wind play with her hair as it sent chills throughout her body.
“What are you doing in my dream? “, she asked out of the blue.
“Why do you refuse to face the outside world, Solaine? We surely need that brilliant mind of yours around here, you would be able to help us deal with the virus. Your expertise and capabilities exceed the ones of the best molecular biologists and virologists that we have in our disposal- ”, the voice continued in a persistent tone.
“And for what reason should I lend my knowledge to the human race?”
“What do you mean? You are a part of it, aren’t you?”
“I have never been a part of it, and you know that very well, Kendhir. The HED is the closest I have been all my life to knowing how it is to be an earthling, I have no desire to save a world I’ve never set foot on”, the woman said making it clear that the discussion on the matter was over.
“It’s not a dream…”, he said moving sideways. He sat there next to her, quietly absorbing the energy of the earth, sniffing the heated air for the perfume of rain. Solaine frowned, vaguely uncomfortable of the storm that was coming; as she predicted the sky became cloudy, shadows of the castle enlarging, devouring any playful light that got entangled in the grass.
“I’m connected to your room and am merely a holographic display, even though I look real I’m a three dimensional projected image. It’s not quite as fun as a solid kick to the head”. Kendhir started laughing trying to eliminate the tension that was hanging around in the air, but his method was as subtle as a sledgehammer. She nodded smilingly, almost giggling at his silliness.
“I know what it is, Ken, I did not know whether you came back or not. I’ve left the HED on; I thought maybe you were just part of the computer program.” Her voice was neutral, just like her behavior and it appeared that his presence changed nothing of the way she did things.
“Oh, yes. Old man Adley’s device: the Holographic Environment Device, though I have no idea why he named it that way. The principle it functions on is completely different and more related to biophysics than to scattered light collection, though I cannot deny the connection”, the young scientist said still reflecting on the idea.
“All I know is that it’s in a close relationship with the subject’s body and the environment that contains it, constantly monitoring pulse, brainwave, perspiration and breathing, choosing an appropriate recording for the real-time designated action. Then it reorders the molecules of the specially designed chamber and voila! “, Solaine concluded in a non-enthusiastic voice.
She subvocalized a command to the computer and the room started to morph back into her usual bedroom, irritatingly similar to the house of a laboratory rat; she indeed felt like one sometimes. Kendhir was no longer there though she knew he could still hear her; during his stays he constantly watched over her and she also knew that she owned her life to him and the professor. Her hiding was coming to a closure, and indeed her hands were shaking as she touched the door’s command panel, he was right. She had never been so afraid in her life…


“We cannot allow her to roam freely in our laboratories, Gerald! It’s unthinkable that this…this creature…Ah!”, Wong stopped in the middle of the sentence knowing what damage he would cause to his reputation if he continued to talk. He was also aware that no matter what he said against her, Adley would reply with a warm smile, that came not from his lips but from deep inside his blue eyes, along with the remark he always used. The supervisor knew that those eyes were the windows to a large and kind soul, but also the locked doors of so many secret chambers that lied beneath the cover, secrets that terrified him even by their own existence. He dared not move further with persuading the Institute’s Chief Scientist to ban her access to all their resources and equipment, so he sat down in his seat after his furious snap, his forehead vein still throbbing with anger, quite visible on his broad face. Wong Shixu was a man whose wrinkled facial skin gave away more about his character than any of his actions; he had high cheekbones, owl-like eyes and bushy eyebrows that deepened his grave, always in a frown look along with his white spiky hair that retained a few black lines here and there. Inspite of his facial characteristics he was not an imposing man, his height cutting him short almost immediately after walking into a room filled with people of a greater stature; he had the allurement of an enraged midget, the main reason why nobody supported his cause.
“ What’s the worst thing that could happen? “ asked Dr. Adley rhetorically and with a sign he dismissed all of those present except for Wong and Nieten that remained calm in their seats, or at least they appeared to be so.


The thin pneumatic door slid open at her light touch and she forced herself to move past the green line that settled the boundaries between Kansas and the Land of Oz. She passed through the invisible antiseptic shield and felt a tingling sensation as the substance was serving its purpose, it lasted no more than a mere second. She also felt her courage diming away with every step that she took, carefully tracing the yellow light that was leading her to the professor’s research cabin. Though it was her first time outside she knew the surroundings of her room quite very well, all those times that she had planned to face it encrypted a map scheme inside her head. It was far from being a perfect copy and her emotions weren’t making it easy for her to remember everything in detail, but she knew which lines to follow to get to the most important parts of the satellite. Her gaze was focused downwards, too afraid to embrace anything around her but that path, as if she strayed she would get lost forever in the Minotaur’s labyrinth. Until something caught her full attention to a point that it made her stop, turn and listen.

“I find it very distasteful how our scientific meetings always end up being interrupted by Wong and his trivial gnomish jibber-jabber,” said one of the white coated men in a huff.
“Oh, I disagree. It makes the matter of subject a bit more enjoyable. Remember, we were talking about that young woman actually being granted undeniable access to everything on this piece of metal,” responded another one with a puff. “You see, while we all respect, or speaking for myself, I respect our Chief’s decisions and acts I also have my own doubts and questions about them.”
“I wonder why the Supervisor and Senior Researcher have been told to stay. That’s not the only unusual part of today’s gathering, we were sent away without a word like we were plain decorations, maybe witnesses…”

Solaine was not eavesdropping anymore, she had resumed her walk contemplating over their sayings, with one of the pieces of the puzzle set into place. The woman they were talking about was herself.


“Doctor Nieten, I would like you to explain, as simply as possible, our situation to Supervisor Wong, including the data that we have gathered in the past few weeks”, said Adley in an amiable voice. Wong flinched a muscle upon hearing his words, but remained generally undisturbed by the sudden change of situation; he expected anything from the old fox so his decision to play the cards up did not take him by surprise, nonetheless it was unusual to let a subordinate handle the deck. The professor disclosed nothing else, sealing his way out of the conversation by leaning back in his odd chair and pressing his fingertips together against his dry lips. It was inaccurate to actually call it a chair since it had no legs and its shape was kind of a whimsical hybrid between an egg and the bottom of an opened oyster ; it was commonly the center of people’s mockery and named the Maglev Eggster, also because of the technology it was based on. Though highly efficient and comfortable, many preferred old fashioned chairs that actually had legs, it gave them somewhat of a psychological stability. Nieten turned to face the Supervisor, his piercing, cold eyes expressing how displeased he was of having to share confidential information with a man that understood nothing of his work.
“I assume there is no point in presenting the facts too scientifically, that would be a waste of time so I will try to make it brief and short”, he said with a sly smile. “I am quite positive that your highness is aware that under a government approval we have begun to take action in repelling and killing the Nyanza virus by using human testing. So far we have lost two of the patients that have volunteered to be inoculated with an experimental anti-viral drug, and our third, Meissa is in a severe condition and even if we do pick up the pace and get one step ahead, she will probably die during the next month-”
“Her name sounds vaguely familiar”, interrupted Wong in a pondering tone.
“That is because she is one of our best researchers in the field of metagenomics, also known as environmental/eco genomics”, replied Dr. Neiten abruptly. Wong looked mortified, but pulled himself back together rapidly, though still visibly shocked of the answer and with questions at the tip of his tongue.
“Then why on Earth is she a guinea pig? Wasn’t she more valuable alive?”
“First of all may I remind you that we are not currently on Earth. People react and proceed differently when confronted with a possibility, especially somebody so dedicated to doing anything conceivable towards saving the entire planet. She may have been brought up in space but her love is as equal the least as somebody that has lived all their lives knowing what nature truly feels like. She is highly valuable as scientist and as test subject, but her fate is of her own judgement and desire and we have done nothing that would be against her will. We have made sure that before she does so, Dr. Thabit will have instructed her subordinates to continue with her work and has shared all of her private section with her assistant Dr. Sirah…”
“Private section…?”
“For security reasons, only the head of each department has unlimited access and is allowed to do separate investigations. If that person dies, he or she are not able to perform further examinations and studies because of either disease, be it mental or physical, or old age and in the worst case he or she divulges information without instructions to do so no matter why, he or she will hand over and entrust the data and position to the main assistant.”
“Ah, I understand now-”, said the Supervisor in a rather pensive voice while stroking his chin with his fingers; a beard would have made him look less ridiculous.
“Now that I have finished explaining more than I have intended to I shall go onwards to continuing with the main storyline without any further questions”, interrupted the Senior Researcher with bitter politeness.
Though completely passive in the conversation, Adley could not deny himself the pleasure of smiling, clearly amused of how the situation was unfolding. He knew how it would go long before it took place, right during the time when he had planned for all of those things to happen, his accuracy was sometimes astounding, even so precise that it overwhelmed people that were unaccustomed to it.
“We are aware that the data and knowledge we posses are not sufficient to sustain Dr. Thabit’s life until we can collect enough information to continue our quest in exterminating the virus. Dr. Solaine Arkab-”
Wong shifted in his chair and turned his view towards a corner of the room, visibly irritated at the sound of the name.
“- is an excellent virologist with extensive expertise in domains such as genetic engineering and genomics. For the past few weeks, ever since Meissa’s entry in the program she has been feeding us bits of her own research. We have learned that she is successfully advancing in sequencing the RNA genome of the virus, and also understood that she is a critical need and essential to our win against it. The reason of your coming here is to grant her the unique access codes that would allow her to use our full equipment and not only the H.E.D where she has done most of her studies and spent most of her life in”, concluded the young scientist.
The sulky Supervisor rose to his feet, but before he could say something, Adley changed his position as to face the door, and he followed his example almost immediately.
“What makes you believe that I desire to convince this querulous midget of anything, Ken? I have already broken into the Institute’s database long before his arrival, and with some more digging I will eventually get to know every inch of this place like the back of my palm”, said Solaine sourly. Her hands were folded and her face expressed a wide smirk, altogether with her wild swept bun the image represented pure hostility and cynicism.
“You will accept it, because even though you won’t admit it, you can’t bear the thought of standing by while millions of people suffer and die, especially children.”
She closed the door behind her and with a grave look she took a seat in front of Khendir, while totally ignoring the person that was Wong.
“You know my hunger for knowledge very well, I never thought you would actually make use of it as blackmail”, Solaine said falsely bothered. “From today on, I will take lead in the departments I’m specialized in. I expect full reports on the current status of our development and progress so far in overcoming and crushing this biological warfare. Notify Sirah that I want her part of the research set to points by tomorrow morning since I will also be joining the genomics section, she will regain her full-fledged status when I believe she is ready. Before we start, I have one more condition.”
“And what would that be, my dear?”, said Adley in a mild voice.
“A private project, with no inquiries and no track of it but my own data that shall be highly guarded by my computer programs only, no supplies or machine monitoring. No video.”
“What is this? Trick or treat day? Stop this nonsense, it has gone too far!”, burst Wong in a splatter of sheer confusion and contempt.
“You took an oath never to cause harm, if you cross that line I will make sure that is the last thing you do. And we both know there are far worse things than death. Consider yourself the third authority in the hierarchy, just bellow me and Dr. Neiten”, said Adley calmly. “ Kendhir, would you mind escorting Solaine to the main laboratory and then bring me a cup of green tea, if you may?”, he added smilingly.
“Not at all, Doctor.”
Both young scientists exited the room with the door sliding smoothly behind them.


“Ken, how is Meissa? I managed to take hold of everything but the video monitoring system”, asked the woman sadly.
“I know, it was the only thing I could prevent you from doing. Her state is quite advanced and as I know you, even though I can certify that you are a responsible researcher, the possibility of you doing something reckless was too high to assume the risk.”
“I want to see her…”

E urat sa cresti mare

Am crezut ca voi ramane mereu copil, copil ai anilor 90′, ca noul mileniu nu va veni niciodata si ca voi sta in fiecare seara pe balcon si voi privi stelele in incercarea zadarnica de a gasi Orionul. Stiam ca nu se vede din bucatica mea de lume, dar nu ma puteam abtine.

Am crezut ca zilele in care faceam roboti din pachete de Marlboro nu se vor sfarsi vreodata, acum nu-mi mai pasa de ambalajul in sine ci de continut; sau de jumatatile de ora in care mestecam guma Turbo ca abia apoi sa incep sa-i simt gustul. Nu stiu de ce-mi placeau, de ce ne placeau si nu mai stiu daca le cumparam sa le mananc sau doar pentru abtibilduri, poze si tatuaje. Baietii aveau colectii imense de masini si fotbalisti si schimbau dublurile intre ei, asa cum faceam cu surprizele de la Chipicao in generala, sau cele de la Kinder de pe vremea cand erau in oua aurii de plastic.

Stiu ca prin clasa intai eram toti innebuniti de sticksuri si in fiecare pauza cumparam de la magazinul de langa scoala, care acum e inchis si nimeni nu mai stie ce a fost vreodata. Nimeni in afara de noi, cei care am crescut si nu ne mai jucam pe acolo. Cel mai trist e ca nu se mai joaca nimeni asa cum stiam noi, sotronul, frunza, nu mai sare nimeni coarda si nu mai stie nimeni miscarile de elastic. Nu se mai ascund copii pe sub masini, in copaci, prin gradini, garduri si nu mai sare nimeni pe geamul de la etajul 1 al scarii, nu mai inventeaza nimeni reguli la prinselea pe animale sau nume.

Nu-mi aduc aminte ultima oara cand am jucat Mario, stiu doar ca il detestam pe ala mic si verde de-l chema Luigi. Si n-am terminat niciodata jocul, n-am salvat printesa, dar am inghitit la ciuperci halucinogene si banuti de am zis ca-l fac banca pe micul instalator. N-am terminat nici Hercules, iubeam jocurile de consola in care bagam dischete, Tom si Jerry, Pacman, Bomberman si multe altele.

Ma simt de parca as scrie in oracol, le mai tine minte cineva? Cred ca mai am asa ceva pe acasa, desi ma cam indoiesc. Caietele cu intrebari care le dadeam colegilor sa le completeze si apoi sa deseneze ceva la sfarsit. Am avut o lene teribila mereu la completat. Ar fi fost curios sa ma gandesc ce ne-am spus pe atunci.

Daca ai fi citit ce scriam ca raspuns la intrebarea ce ascultam probabil iti ziceam Cher, Modern Talking, Michael Flatley, Roxette si niste chestiute romanesti pe care le auzeam zilnic. Cine nu auzise de Andre cu platformele lor de 13 cm, de Genius si melodiile lor de pe Atomic si orasul lor trist? Sau Animal X si ASIA?  Sau de Mihai Traistariu in Valahia cand Suzana le furase bananele? Daca nu, trebuie sa fi trait intr-o pestera sau aveai dopuri in urechi.

Faceam mereu galagie si mereu babele aruncau dupa noi cu borcane cu apa, altele cu oale cu apa fiarta. Altii ar fi zis ca’s debile, dar noi le intaratam. Furam flori si fructe, aruncam cu bulgari de zapada in geamuri sau le faceam mici cazemate pe pres. Cei de la Sectia 5 deja ne stiau dupa nume si delicte, ma rog, nu a fost niciodata ceva serios, dar cine putea sa ignore reclamatiile nebunei de la 4. Toti o detestam, si dupa ce nu a mai fost ea am detestat-o si pe fiica ei, care era la fel de nebuna, dar nu atat de crizata.

Ah, ce vremuri.

Am tras cu prastia si faceam cornete de hartie din caietele din clasele primare. Imi aduc aminte de Vacanta Mare cand avea 3 membrii si erau amuzanti. Imi aduc aminte cand radeam cu lacrimi la Divertis si Carcotasi si cum ii asteptam in fiecare duminica. Ma uitam la Abracadabra si GeneratiaPRO si Academia Vedetelor. Nu puteam sa traiesc fara Cartoon Network asa cum era el pe atunci.

Si ar mai fi atatea de zis, cert e ca macar noi am stiut sa fim copii.


Apartamentul nostru-i gol,
in anticamere ne zace iubirea,
am promis de mult ca o sa plec
din atriul sau drept
si c-o sa-l inchid cu cheia;

Pe rafturile noastre
se asterne praful
peste planta ale carei frunze moarte
nu le mai pot lipi cu scotch,
sunt toate legate cu ate;

O sa sparg peretii
si o sa se scurga in strada
toate cuvintele noastre,
printre degetele-mi deschise,
ce nu mai pot sa vada;

Voi intinde talpi pe treceri de pietoni,
sa tina loc de zebre
atunci cand te opresti
sa ma lasi sa trec
in marsuri funebre;

Bate vantul printre peretii sparti
e frig, e atat de frig la margine de podea,
nu ma mai simt
si as vrea sa plang
cu lacrimi acide plecarea ta.

Amanita uranium235

Sunt geamuri deschise-n primavara comunista,
e aerul fara miros si gust,
sunt morti ingropati de eroarea umana,
e frig, atat de frig pe pleoapele
Orasului Pryvyd.

Deschide ochii,
linistea de aici e asurzitoare,
vantul atomului pasnic a incetat de mult,
e totul sigilat sub sarcofagul mut;
cladirile translucide ard la nesfarsit.

Te voi ingropa in grafit, langa ei
in cimitirul din Pompeiiul soviet
de unde poti sa revezi reluat,
norul atomic, divin, in scantei;

Mana ta-i calda in mana mea,
te strang si simt cum te descompui intens,
stai, magicheskiĭ
nu pleca, sa-ti arat strazile slefuite
mai ramai o clipa, sa vezi

Trenurile raman in depou,
ruginesc de pe-acum,
istoria s-a oprit aici –
cu noi, in noi, traieste tragedia
E o oaza de mutatii genetice,
ce ne urla in pantece,
in gat.

Uite caii,
galopand prin balti contaminate,
e aerul preistoric in vant,
suntem la inceputuri,
dar tu si eu,
ramanem un gand.


Vantul ne va purta

Vantul ne va purta

Sunt atatea ceruri in mine,
toate topite din lumanari albastre
Le-ai aprins cu maini tremurande
noaptea sub livezi de nuci verzi

Noi navigam cursul istoriei in galioane spaniole,
strabatand oceane reci.

Am inchis atatea secrete in tine
De care nici tu nu stii
Le-am impartit pe toate in extreme
Sa le cauti in varfuri de degete,
Si cand imi gasesti buzele,
-sa le simti

Sunt atatea limbi in cerul gurii mele
care se invart incontinuu in ceas;
Timpul meu nu vindeca ranile,
-si nu invie mortii-
timpul meu e o harta s-un compas.

Visele mele se ciocnesc in reactii chimice
in maruntaie de racheta interspatiala;
Se proiecteaza cursiv ca sirul lui Fibonacci
pe laturi de triunghiuri matematice;
In jurul lui Pi e o completa relatie.

Sunt atatea spasme de viata in mine
cand asfalturile incandescente ale noptii,
seamana cu luminile lui Saturn
As vrea sa ne mai ninga pe orbite, iubire
sa navigam pe coloane de fum in jos si in sus.

Tigarile ni s-au stins in rafale de vant
cand turbinele motoarelor cu propulsie
ne-au impins departe in gand
Elada reluata e doar o iluzie,
o holograma stupida, nimic mai mult.

Pe noi nu ne despart uragane
suntem fiii unor vremuri atemporale
drogati pe plaje caraibiene
Sub focuri si rom si trabucuri cubaneze
transcendem moartea,
suntem spirite libere

-Timpul meu e un portal, un arc magnetic aurit
Traverseaza sub forma de cometa universala
Un univers in graba incropit-

Atatea lumi ard violent in mine
cand imbratisarea ta e