Marius Surleac

Forest – virid, misty; growing, rustling, spreading peacefulness and a fresh fragrance of verve

The tobacco smells the beat of the people and the Guinness invades the dancing glasses guided by hands The guitars brought the spirit of blues with the bare hands thrilling The audience with

Ice flowers’ burning existence in their journey to death reached under the smoothness of your bare footsteps and sudden got melt Pine tree arrows’ tremendously flight on top of your

Those red rabid eyes shining like a wet blade The white fangs under my skin splash frothy saliva My chest barks to the moon within the mirror The beast is born in a flash and slashes

I had to taste the ink to find out if those words were true or not I had to chew the paper to understand what the ground would feel like My bones were broken by the burden like a sphere with

He, who hangs on a tree, the same tree he used to climb when playing with kids, now dangles in front of the spectators Their humble look is wiped by the wind that moves his cold stoned body

Dolphins stir the mud - within a restless circle, feast between fishes To the shore shadows are still, tied to the surviving rite

Husband and wife sleeping in bed: he dreams she’s hot model; she thinks he’s a cupid, with big arrows ahead

When he caught in the mesh the golden fish, to fill the boat’s tank was his only wish

When hiding through bushes he heard there’s a moose, that screams like a snake and looks like a goose

junk-food for the dupes - in the obese mirrors acts one player’s drama

alcohol bottle - the aggrieved drinkers will cry at their liver’s death

smoke from tobacco - whirlpool reaching the bottom of a deceased lung

In the burning day angry clouds wipe up their tears in the lake’s mirror Beneath the bridge, tree and I reaching the sky like a leaf

screams and some bells’ waves - burial of the dead one in nature’s coffin; across the road, kids in trees eat the red juicy cherries

When skies ignite from mouths of hell the ocean cries with tears of dust With shadows still the fiord’s shell will shrink the space, the time and lust Those drums that beat the walls of

Soft crux of the foyer, sunken in the wet smoke drained through the stunned lips of the audience Young boys became adults … tough stuff, confirming their value on the stage From the single spot

Throwing the smooth clothes, burning the heart that remained without silence in solid echoes, she came from nowhere, from black and white, now and never Her bosoms I touched became one with

My faith? Do I dream of the grand words ever told by the scrolls? Why do I dare to hear the rumours found in the hall of time – where seconds have died in vacuum’s

Lucy Under the rocks, the atoms bind together a sol-fa of bones that seem to play a song, beneath a Röntgen storm The sand flew from the pelvis, pieces of ribs like a chandelier; the skull

flowers caught by the eye – sun scatters his arrows in the heart of trees; and leave in my body, a forceful disease

I snooze in the skies – a comet blew the red leaves from my bloody dream