Confused?

Remembering things that have to come
Living the days ahead
Writing with an empty pen
Falling while laying down
Kissing a frame without a picture
Kicking on lost dreams
Deleting a blank page
Starting with the end
Being aware I'm unaware
Blowing out a candle that's not burning
Injecting blood in my cocaine
Feeling the pain, then making the cut.
Printing before writing the poëm
Falling awake, sleeping while walking
Crying before sadness
Saying goodbye before meeting you
Opening the door before the knock

Put your life in the wright order,
sentence by sentence, not word by word!

Emotions in motion

Did you ever search for that perfect melody,
that song that takes over your body and soul?
Did you ever think that you found yourself in the keys of a symphonie?
You try to read the lines but your tears prevent you of listening
and that's all you want.
To listen and understand.

I played piano on the kitchen table
picturing myself at the keyboard of Chopin or Rachmaninov.
A 44 year old child but happy and moved in that moment.
Like David Helfgott I would like to shine.
He did in his world and out.
Playing Rach n°3 till you drop.

I can only try to write what I feel
and be happy with whatever talent was given to me.
Be happy with every tear that drops because I moved someone inside.
Happy with, what seems to be in my mind, a nice poem.
Happy with a letter from my heart send into the world.
Moved by every little compliment.

Did you ever try to write a perfect poem?
Those all explaining sentences that would solve all the mysteries of the world.
That hate the pain but love the nostalgy.
That prefere to cry and lose dreams running along your cheeks.
I tried, I'm still trying. I guess I always will.
Hope you find love in every word.

Here and now

I sip my coffee again.
Your face showed in it's foam
and for a breef moment I thought you smiled at me.

A song on the background stole my thoughts
and makes me want to shout out,
here and now,
where are you?

I gave you all my secrets and smiles.
There is no better place for them to be.
I took all your time thou,
egoistic,
but so in need.

There is no good way to say goodbye,
even if it's just for a second,
and I shout out,
here and now,
where are you?

We shared our blood
and you're the keeper of my heart.
I stole yours and will keep it for ever,
like a thief,
but rich now.

My coffee is gone,
the song died in the background
and I realize you where beside me all this time,
but I still shout out,
here and now,
I love you.

Why cry?

This is inspired by the song Suus by Rona Nishliu.

When you are hit by that pinching, all questioning feeling inside
that puts your heart to the test over and over again.
When your smile is in a place that you can't find anymore
and all you can think about is shouting out.
When I miss you and a tear is running down my cheeck,
that tear reminds me I'm alive.
Alive and here to take care of you and all that is us.

When I'm out of the spotlights and in the shadow.
When I think too much and disspear.
When I need you and a tear is running down my cheeck,
that tear reminds me I'm alive.
Alive and here to love you and all that is us.

When I ask myself why I'm crying and dry my eyes.
When your kiss is all that can save me
When all I can remember are good memories
and I don't want to stop and long for that special feeling
that is touching me every- and nowhere.

I shed another tear.....I'm still alive.
Alive and here for us.

Happy Mothers Day.

Two mothers are sitting on a cloud,
talking and floating on air.
The coffee is always hot and sweet without sugar out there.
They don't speak the same language
but talk the same words.
They understand eachother because their hearts
feel the same joy and hurts.

A man and a woman are looking to the sky
and as the clouds float by
they keep wandering, why?
The emptiness that is left in a motherless heart
is heavy and deep.
The memories they have never sleep.

Today there is only one thing we want to say:
We miss and love you and
happy mothers day!

Wishes of the heart

I wish my songs could take away
all that is bad in your life.
All that is holding you back.
Everything that makes you unhappy,
miserable or sick.

I wish my voice would cure you.
To be a medicine, ever lasting.
Words for a headacke,
sentences to heal your heart.

I wish my voice would fit my songs.
My words would fit your heart.
My tears would fit your eyes.
I wish just hello's, no goodbye's.

I wish I could move you.
Not put you in another place
but really, really move you
and have you where I want.
Inima mea.

Wet paint

I walk around in the painting that is our life.
The paint is still wet and you can follow my footsteps.
The strokes of your brush are deciding which way I go,
my mood, what I see, what I feel.
You mix the colors of my life and decorate my burning, pumping core.
Paint with your heart, change your brush, now and then, but always paint me.
Create a color just for us and call it love.
Paint with your eyes and see only me.
Make me better than I am, make me worse but always paint me.
Wet paint on my feet, my new fingerprint.
Color me like Antony signs, original and crazy in love.
And sign.
A masterpiece.

Crazy in Love

Please open this link and enjoy...more beautiful photos, songs and poems on "Life in pictures" of Costin!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0ob52GyXl4

Heart in Paris

It's like a hand inside of me she said
playing the strings of my heart.
Moving me, keeping me still.

We drove on in the streets of Paris.
Looking for our place in a city with no space.

It's like a hand inside of me she said
making me look all crazy
"crazy in love" right now.

We wandered on in the streets of macarons,
of "je t'aime" and "see you soons".

It's like your inside of me she said
protecting my heart
keeping it beating, bleeding.

I entered her heart and went home,
to stay.

How do I tell you....

My first participation to "Life in pictures"!

I could stop eating, not drink.
I could stop dreaming, sleeping.
I could collect tears,
hide for my fears.

If you're not here, there's no use.

I could hate myself and I do.
I could forget everything and I will.
I could crawl and weep,
never again stand on my feet.

If you're not here, there's no me.

I don't love the ugly me.
I don't like the dirty me.
I settled with the sick and abandonded me
I hate the faking me,
happy, happy me.

If you're not here, nowhere to appear, nowhere near,
there is no use.

I thought I could make it alone but that was before your skin.

I could live under your spell.

I imagined

I was sitting on the top of the world and the shadow of the moon fell on me.
To my surprise it was like a warm blanket covering me.
Then the stars changed into your eyes and I saw us dancing in Paris.
A red rose between your teeth, a silk dress and high heels.
My black tuxs fitted your red lips to perfection.
My tears made the clouds cry and I fled into the lake of sorrows.
Like a drowning man my hands reached out of the water
in search for a rescuing heart.
My harlequin tears colored the lake black.
The swans where long gone and with one remaining feather I wrote ...
a symphony with notes never heard before.
The gentle waves of the lake where my staff
and the wind was the director.
The storm in my heart played it so loud that you couldn't deny the cracks in the wall,
the breaking mirrors or the stopping waterfall.
Eventhou you couldn't swim, you jumped into the inc of the lake and found me, still writing.
"Come" was all you said and we where lifted into the moonlight.
The harlequin gave his heart away but kept his smile.
We walked in Paris for a while.
I was on top of the world again.

Just a feeling.

Very unlikely. Uncommon.
To go back in time, even much further than the day you were born,
and to feel like you were there when something happened or was created.
To feel a joy or even pain that was someone elses.
A struggle in the mind, a blockage, an explosion of creativity,......
a masterpiece.
Envy is attacking me but in the same time I am greatfull for the experience
and maybe I should find will and courage to write my own little masterpiece.
If I ever want to be remembered after I leave for good this God created place
maybe I should leave behind another creation of His.
I'll take that trip back to the present now and put my minds phrases and strophes on paper
and make up a world where joy is all and all is joy.
You are welcome to visit me there any time.

Secret title

It had become such a familiar feeling,
a security I never had to think about.
If it was walking, running, jumping...,
your safety net was there to catch me with every fall.
You cleaned my wounds and kissed them.
I didn't get the chance to return the favour
and God knows that was all I wanted.
27 years passed and still not over you.
It's impossible, mom.
Hope to meet you in heaven, one day.

Vacancy.

It was generous of you to let me look inside your head.
All words spoken, nothing said.
Words to difficult for me, the meaning escaped, the letters fled.
You can't read me, you said.

It was nice of you to let me pray inside your mind.
The place was graced, the mood was kind.
I talked to God untill Amen
Now I think I know Him.

It would be great if I lived in your heart.
To be the engine, the pump of life.
I would be bleeding all the time
to keep you alive.
Day and night.

Questions ?

Don't ask me questions.
They stole all the answers.
Don't ask me to sing..
They took all the keys.

Imagine I was smelling a grey flower today.

Don't ask me about the future.
Desteny Avenue is closed.
Don't ask me about the past.
I bearly remember yesterday.

I was shot by a shooting star.

Don't ask me about my tears.
Happiness can be liquid.
Don't ask me about my smile.
Just schmick the clown.

My compass points south.