We are the only people
in the world
and we hold
the keys to all
gardens and dungeons
beneath a wall…
We live on
Moon’s compassionate light
and greenish profoundness
of Spring.
We may not die
but if we do
your smile will freeze
the light blue
in my eye
and shovel back the trench
to where I quench
my thirst for throbbing hearts
and burning dreams
deposited in chests
that heave entwined.
© Iulia Halatz
Sun chokes the atmosphere
Moon dies and takes
the truth and breath of you
Stars inscribe the sky
and determine
who’s alive…
What are your dreams?
Ask your heart
and put an old wish
to the slaughter.
Wild is the conspicuous green grass
that tells itself
to reach the stardust smell of spring.
Old is the key
that keeps away the chains
and charms unfathomed
to open a new gate
As you wear another’s
beating heart
melting in
and dripping of blue lust
Not knowing when
to destroy the dark
and say:
I am saving the meat
of my dreams for you!
© Iulia Halatz
Iron Tales
Poetry
You look so sane
potentially careful and serene
Smirk-at-arms
atoning for
the perfumed gaiety
and colorless skies.
The fire in the autumn
dictates the ice in the new moon.
My love,
When are you going to make up your mind?
Set me free
word upon word
I throw in your face
unsubmissive of your bars…
When are you going to break the gloom?
Sorrowless
is your world
You grow your stamina
from my pain…
Minstrels sing of legendary lands
You sing of the legendary cavern
lettered for me.
Some words are
like the spring wind
building with
cherry blossoms
the library
of…
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