Marieta Maglas

Rookie - 653 Points (19-05-1964 / Radauti, Judet Suceava, Romania)

Moving Hieroglyphs


You compose that sonnet as you are eager
to analyze the exquisite crush
of some ideas.There is a painting
with scissors by Henri Matisse.Those birds flying
in the sky look like
moving hieroglyphs.So different
seems to be this new Sunday

dawn in our old secreting sun

than the woven web of the golden rays
can form a lot of intricate,

catching spirals of life.

You write about rising dreams and falling
angels, while this rocking
time is slowly whitening
your hair.On the chair, there is
a picture of three Mizutani shears
forgotten on a table of
a cut and curl salon

having spiral stairs

and being located in the Longing Street.The rickety
syllables of your poem lead elsewhere
on this Sunday;
a place with a vanishing step...

There is a forbidden corridor,
where the endurance guards the trapdoor
to the hiding place of your secrets. Some tears
fall down from a sad
eye of a cloud.
This sonnet of yours is like a daybreak,
or like an undiscovered
hieroglyph.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 02, 2014
Edited: Thursday, April 03, 2014

Topic of this poem: art


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