Tag Archives: poetry


It was a brief trip to the past. Sleepless nights, riots on the streets, the first win, then a silence, big illusions born on the pillow, the fireworks, deillusion… She was all alone, but the hotel bed was cosy and she didn’t notice that anything was missing. A few drinks in a bar and the feeling of pleasure. She pretented that she enoyed the conversations, although she didn’t listen anything. She was intoxicated with the sense of freedom and it’s only that matters. Step further and she was in the field, allowing the moonlight to reflect in her hair, dancing to the sound of the warm wind till infinity and beyond. Suddenly, a thunder stroke, a fall and awakening. Awakening, that came with a big A on the sky screen. Once. Than once again.

two eyes
glued on the window glass
waiting for a dawn

Linked to Carpe Diem #1232 past regrets and future fears


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autumn breeze
silky petals tremble
under the fingertips

shadows on the wall
dance to the sound
of saxophone

~ daydreaming ~



Posted by on 09/11/2017 in Feel the word, Miss Desire!


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trembling river
touched by the sunbeam


Linked to Carpe Diem #1301 River’s Lip


Posted by on 08/11/2017 in Feel the word, Miss Desire!


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footprints in the snow
or melted

on a departure
don’t look back!


Linked to Carpe Diem #1299 Snow On The Desert


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20610 – Troiku

ancient warriors
no winners
on a battlefield

between battle and peace
a silence
along the wall

writing haiku
I fight the death
in my way

Linked to Carpe Diem Weekend-meditation #5 Troiku ancient warriors

For creating this Troiku, I used a modern Haiku made by our host:

ancient warriors
between battle and peace
writing haiku

© Chèvrefeuille


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Once upon a time, there was a hotel in a center of the capital and one secret room in it. The door had no keys, but it would be automatically locked as soon as someone entered.

She has never been there, but she heard so many stories about it. In her imagination, when the night falls, she was able to see a silvery moonlight rolling all over the silky overlay.

Every evening, passing by the street, in a summer garden of a restaurant next to the hotel, she was looking for a familiar face that she has seen once on a blurry picture. He had a strange name. Divided into the syllables, it meant “With Peace”.

He never gave her a peace.

‘What a coincidence’, she thought when a tram number two making its’ last lap, took her right there, to the same hotel, in the company of a man who had a strange accent and a strange name that sounds almost like his.

sudden blossom
does the winter leave
or all is a dream?

Linked to Carpe Diem #1297 White Hand of Moses


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22110 – Life Is Beautiful 01

on a photograph
the sun sets

Linked to Carpe Diem Winter Retreat 2017 “Life is Beautiful”

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Posted by on 22/10/2017 in Feel the word, Miss Desire!


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My home is wherever I am. And where are you? Behind whose eyelids do you sleep? And do you still care in your sleeves a scent of the warm bread shared once, in a past life, perhaps? Are your soles tired of the road, joints painful of chains and your skin cracked of the wind that whips in the back? Does the sky reflect in your eyes while you smile? Home … Go on, it must be here… Somewhere… How do I know? How do you not know?

traces of jets
across the morning sky
Indian summer

Talking heads again…

Linked to Carpe Diem #1283 On Our Way Home



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from here
to there
a slippery path

Linked to Carpe Diem #1282 Sacred Stones


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20710 – Signs

It started at 1:01am with 11>11(11) and then it continued during the day… 11:11, 14:44, 15:51, 16:16, 18:18 and so on. Believe it or not, even now as I write this, my digital clock is showing 23:32. I know this sounds crazy, but I’m sure that this little rebel with a guitar who I met this morning in a Chinese store tries to tell me something.


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