Poetry of Falling Frames – Book 1
Best Consumed in Contemporary Moonlight
By Daniel Buinac
Globland Books
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Daniel Buinac
All rights reserved
The right of Daniel Buinac to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
ISBN 978-0-9569634-2-0
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Cover photo by Liis Roden
Table of Contents
I ate my neighbour's piano today
should some space be left to mistrust
nobody's calling for three days
your shadow is suggesting a slow ride
detail that sells the painting
Scenery
Darkness in the Room
from the musical depths
faceless mass of outcry.
through the window
imprisoned world's eyes.
scent of loneliness.
portion of eternity
in the dust beneath the bed.
years lost.
sweat.
final scenes
of the stolen role.
spider's patience
until the curtain falls.
peace
of already finished webs.
Perhaps we Wander…
Perhaps we wander in emptiness.
Abandoned,
perhaps we don’t even move.
Perhaps we dream.
Voices.
Names.
Smells.
Stain each other with hands.
Step on each other with words.
Stumbling into each other in a vacuum.
Perhaps happy.
With eyes closed,
are we still here?
Sometimes
Sometimes I know.
With hands I shape clouds,
north is my coat
and verse my raft.
Sometimes I remember;
licking forest dew
and asking eyes if they'll ever see
what I taste with my tongue.
Sometimes,
just before a rainy sunrise
while I lie alone,
to a hoarse rooster I lend my voice.
Sometimes weed with reality
is fed
and then a step of hope echoes
dully through the life,
but I sometimes turn off the light
and I feel; she is my...
And I dream.
Sometimes.
Farewell
Is that a part
that you chose to play?
Is that an excuse
you are avoiding to use?
You are silent. I can't know.
Oblivion?
Is a candle enough
for forgiveness?
You burn in flames
of my words. Look
tied to the ground.
Solution silhouettes are lost
in your foggy silence.