CROSSED BY A BIRD, Ion Chichere [short novels to read .TXT] 📗

Bright Escape

And the dog
runs through dry
sun-flower's stems.

while down in the valley
the broken window
can never finish counting
the glass fragments.

his echo became brighter...
a frightful victory in the barefoot child,
a guilty happiness...

soon the voices from the valley
get lost in the wind and this freedom
it's heavy on you.

Crossed By A Bird

Any woman in black is my mother,
and I'm her dead beloved.
Any cross on a young man is my cross,
and I'm her beloved earth.

I've died, slowly departing
from my body, the hidden part
was laughing brightly
the other part was getting dark.

a white bird crossed me,
she was floating like a cross,
I've looked like her flight,
she looked like my death.

Democracy

In the middle of the lead the small ray of gold ( the wolf
hunting in the night when the trees are caressing the
birds ) could be a trip of the price. A biology of the rock. In one part the abstract still tries to remember the line, and in the other the sphere that dreams the sea's cube.

There's no difference between hero and traitor. Smart Arthur whisper close to me old secrets and his knee became a nest. The storks carry round coins. The cells gets wider. The green Sun lets his hair on a bottle lid and suddenly there is a golden stain on the bill.

We drink and evening comes. ( the bells feeds her body ) The shadow of the bridge is curb and thick.
Mysterious stars sobs in the beautiful night. Memory. Bluebell. Traces of belts and sodium falls from a history book. Where I'm taking you
the road is dry. The chocolate fog produce the trains of Tarkoski... understanding... vision... maybe the wheel goes round.

From the water the word fish jumps. I and Arthur
passed by a water hole with vertical fish and a whip
transformed them into jakals. I understood how simple is the secret. ( around the button the cloth is closing ) The thought is coming down the slope.

The Great Bear was falling under my feet. The hand of God remain on my head and since then nothing scares me. The dog's barking thight up the street by eternity, the sheeps made the grass green. My dear Arthur the bones are sentimental archives. Dear readers you'll see after you die. Late on the hill the alp horn sounds heavy and someone tries to translate the word " to be ".


Lines

It's raining for so long
that the raindrops
became long lines,
thousands of dialogues lines
between heaven and earth.

while behind trees,
fallen from it's nest,
a sparrow chick tries to rise up,
but with no success, dies.

It rains for so much time
that the raindrops
had become curb lines.

if it wouldn't be
the strong perfume of leaves
i would have closed the window
and sleep deeply.


Nails And Wings

nails, nails, nails, nails
and at the end of them are the hands
to give a chance for the animal.

wings, wings, wings, wings
and at the end of them are the shoulders
to give a chance for the human.

Publication Date: 01-14-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
In the memory of my good mentor that open my eyes towards literature. May he rest in peace.