Поезия за душата и тем подобни глупости

Pain

It’s raining.
Pitter patter.
Drop by drop.
It wets the street,
the one I walk along.
But, wait.
There’s something else.
The rain is not alone,
it’s mixed with tears
of my own.
Why I’m crying
you may ask.
It’s very simple, really.
The reason is a man,
another person, just like me.
And yet, so very different.
Or maybe it’s not true,
pain is much too fickle.
Today my heart might bleed.
Tomorrow I will start a new beginning.

Rainy day vibes

It was raining…. animals.
The weather does what it likes,
in spite of us.
Her fancy shoes learned that the hard way.
It seemed they weren’t made to stay.
She felt a chill all up her spine.
“Why always so unlucky in this life of mine?!”
Then she saw him – all tall and slick.
Wearing a suit, looking so very chique.
Her hopes rose up like a flowering bud,
It was her savior, surely,
the man, surrounded by flood.
Her eyes lit up, she offered a curt smile,
her wet feet forgotten in what had felt like the Nile.
Instead of returning a smile,
he just looked at her for a while.
“Why not bring an umbrella?
Don’t you follow the weather?!”
That's the tale of the young fella,
who simply left the modern Cinderella.

The crimes we commit

Is it a crime,
if I want you to be mine?
Who is to blame?
Is this simply a game?
Does anyone win?
Does anyone lose?
Is it high time for a truce?
If liking you is a crime
I’ll gladly do the time.
But don’t relax just yet,
‘cause once I’ve paid off my debt
I’ll return just in time
to go back to my crime.

When

Whenever I walk alone in the night,
a traveler without direction.
Whenever I can’t hide my deepest fears,
a wanderer without a path.
I want to see you next to me,
I want to hold your hand.
To feel that warmth seep deep inside,
to have my heart awakened once again.
It’s in your arms that I feel safe,
a place where I can breathe again.
It’s what I miss the most,
my dear friend.

Writer's block

Welcome to my lack of muse,
for which I can offer no excuse.
Welcome to this busy mind.
Think again, think more, rewind!
Right here, in front of the neat white page
I combine, I create like a skillful mage.
Muse, or not, who needs it anyway?
I will follow through, my thoughts I’ll convey.
For true writing resides in the heart,
helps you travel as far as across the earth.
Search deep in your soul, dig even further,
bare your very essence, ride the thunder.
And that’s, my friend, how a writer block ends,
how you combine, create and destroy the chains.

Коледна Приказка


Във коледната нощ
всичко блести в разкош.
Разхождаме се двама с теб
по улици, сковани в лед.
Блясъкът на хиляди звезди
се отразява в нашите очи.
И ето, къщата позната стигам,
идва време аз да се прибирам.
Пак силно ме прегръщаш
и ми шепнеш колко много ме обичаш.
Казват, че се случват чудеса
в тази нощ, под бялата луна.
Пожелахме си безкрайна нощ,
изпълнена с разкош.
Безкрайно щастие, любов,
и един красив за нас живот.