Evening balcony

Loneliness licks
my breath 

I want to scratch my lungs 

As breeze caresses my back

The moon splashes in the night’s sea

Sprinkling the sleepless stars

I climb the memories

Gnawing on my desires’ bone

Fill my hands with moon

Which runs through my fingers like sand

I use the night’s apron to wipe my hands

Tuck myself up with the brass evening

The path shows me the city

I ease myself on the chair

My hands smell childhood

Warming my eyes with tears

The moon throws its fish-net

On the trees

My thoughts’ fishes to catch

My spirit hovers as a fire-fly

Flickering right in front of my eyes

Upper memories draw claws

Cutting in my heart smearing me in blood

I want to flee, but get entangled

In the web of my dilemmas

Until the sadness spider

Sucks the blood of my hopes

Whilst the moon wanders barefooted on my balcony

Wetting its feet

In my pools of solitude. 

Vladimir Marku

Vladimir Marku's picture

Vladimir Marku: novelist, poet, essayist, translator and interpreter. Born Durrës, Albania, October, 1950. Graduated at Foreign Languages Faculty, Tirana University. Worked in the oil industry. Presently teaches English at a Private Foreign Languages Institute., Has written twenty-six books, all published, in Albanian and some in English.

Last updated September 20, 2012