Grybautojų odė

Pūpso rūstūs miško broliai,
O aplink - gėlių karoliai,
Ar matai?!

Pievų apsupty sudygo...
Eik, eiškok jau baravyko!
Ko sklaidais?!

Ranką tiesia vienas, kitas,
Žybčioja akytėm grybas:
Rink tiktais!

Pasportuosim, paklajosim taip smagiai,
Rankom rinksim, kojom - trypsim,
Paryčiais.

Miško samanų prigėrę,
Ir rietelių prisidėję,
Mes linguosime linksmai.

Girios pasaka, ne grybai!
Renkam, pjaunam, glaudžiam spėriai...
Virsim visą naktį velnius,
Valgysim - ilgai ilgai!

For every first...

First cry, first step, first fall, first thought,
Of who You are, and what You're for...
First look at you, first look at me,
First question of what You're to be?

First kiss of hope, first lesson learned,
First crime committed, and first break,
First touch of love, first hatred, grieve,
First start of never-ending dream...

First pain in head, first sore throat feel,
When torture ends, and you go free.
First sip in glass of golden wine,
First meeting with what's left in mind...

First coming, staying, leaving, missing;
First blood-rush to the heart when kissing;
The life-long journey to set free
The one You are; The one You're ought to be...

What autumn brings...

Salted memories of August,
Sluggish grass on empty fields,
Crying souls deter from madness,
Drinking wine and singing dreams.

Empty glasses of attraction,
Full of glory summer nights;
You walk down a rainy alley
And remember all the signs:

Fading green,  evolving redness
Of the skies in front of mould.
We raise glasses for new stories,
For new pleasures turned to gold...

Reaching sunlight is no longer
One of natures filthy plans;
Haunting down the empty passage
Is what future holds in past...

For starters,
Everything was getting smooth...
He touched my hips,
...I could barely move...

Heavy thoughts
Disappeared as he kissed naked skin;
...I had so many reasons...
...and I could not begin...

Avoiding his grip,
I escaped my own fault;
For he knew what I was,
...as I knew what I wasn't...

Followed by light
Into singing of birds,
I was creeping back home
With his smell on my chin....

Resolving the Weekend

For the lonely list on a tree I pray

To become madness in front of brain tray;

Friday’s evolving, Saturday’s lost,

Sunday is empty – what is the cost?

Homeless illusions and hundreds of tears

Becoming my illness, and yours – just worst fears.

Forwarding words into faceless malditos,

I curse all what’s taken and thirst for revenge…

Erasing all thoughts I imagine the picture,

Where none of my words can be ever explained:

Friday is finished, Saturday’s – fiction,

And Sunday is lying in front of my head…

To listen and think

A piece of my friend: TWISTED SKYLINE

TWISTED SKYLINE:: THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME: It was a hot Friday afternoon. I sat on the bench outside my building. Friday is usually the day the new shipment of coffins arrives and ...

Just to listen

Just to listen...

You know...

You know... Your memory lies in my words.... Now, set the fire to your thoughts, and let me get some warm...
I'm miles away from where you are, praying for someone to fix my targets, and set direction to where you hid my tears...
I don't quite know, how I feel, but your longing covers my soul... and brings me back to where the fire burns...
To where no hearts are hurt...
To where no promises forgotten shall remain.....