| Don�t listen to what they say to you! Here nothing can be heard. In the blue kingdom, reigns calmness, tranquillity, serenity and mystery. Under the water the dating and the separation. Then you disappear in blue, In deep blue�a dot, Two, three farewell bubbles and then once again�peace. Who said that even here I can�t write verses? You can write directly to everybody�s mind� touching their heart, telling them� don�t listen to what they say to you! That�s what the last bubbles were saying and remained suspended in the air, repeated by the shells which were vomited by the waves on the beaches of all the world. Under the sea I saw the board of gods. He has been down there, the god of sky who sees everything, the god of peace, the goddess of love and sex, the goddess of truth wearing something very transparent, the really witty goddess of knowledge, the goddess of creation, the god of sharp-sightedness, the god of communication, |
| tele-communication and contacts, the god of humour and good living, the goddess of friendship and kindness the god of light and electricity, with his fuses the god of brilliant ideas and decisions, Venus, modern dressed in white with silicone breasts and fit enough, the god of luck, the weather and carefree riding their dolphins, they had all come to see the ancient, old Neptune, the god of the sea. Many gods, many parked dolphins, and me as well keeping notes on what they are saying. Before the cocktail, they all turned to me and told me with one voice� Don�t listen to what they say to you! And we were drinking, drinking till drowning� Who said that I can�t finish a poem? |
| It wasn�t you It wasn�t your fault, you were not the daughter of the sea, not even of a standard size swimming pool. There is nothing I regret for now I understand that I wouldn�t be happy. Now they call me Robinson Crusoe I don�t know if he wrote so much, (cont.) |
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| Meeting under water (Waterproof poetry) Who said I can�t write a poem anymore? Of course, I can... I will write about the meeting under the water in big depth, oxygen tanks, blue shades and many small fish. In a different wet world, I�ll take out markers and write verses. One boat, two people and then you are lost in blue, the deep blue� in silence, cleanliness, a paradise caressing all of your body. Who said I can�t write verses even here? I can. I can, even in the environment of purple walls of one room, in the white sand and under it, in the quiet surface of the sea, and under it. There are fish around. You can feed them while you play with them, they are my new pets. Next to me one body looking so beautiful while it swims. All bodies, underwater, look more beautiful, mermaids without boring fish-tails, but with beautiful legs. |
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