An emergency brake
and noise of motor horn.
No, no, they did not
bring me to a stop,
they did not warn.
They catapulted me!
My consciousness,
again in world,
where cars, head-lights and races
imitate motion...eyes...faces
Excuse me please,
I was immersed in dreams...
where car-less pedestrians
walk barefoot and carefree
in an exotic paradise...
Wake up, Eve! 21. Century!
You are on the Earth!
Road cops (no angels) .
Stop your nostalgic, paradisiac,
parasitic, parabolic, daydreams!
Sofia, 30. June 2008
Our dear One had an accident. So I shall send her a kiss surplus from my Catullus's translation. The Latin poet told well our ambivalences towards the sweetheart. The dynamic of this poem is violent and there's a feeling of death. That's another reason for sending her a kiss.
It is a well scripted emergency brake on day dreams from one exotic paradise to worldly blocks of cops or(I guess angelic cops so you escape....from interesting drive dreams to real roads of 21st Century. It is so splendid a write Onelia. Rgs Rema
This is lovely, though I don't suppose I should say that. It's not lovely that you had a little accident, it is lovely though the way that you phrase such events. Sending over an ether hug just in case... HG: -) xx
Ah Eve...expelled from the perfect paradise of your dreams to the rude awakening of this rude modern world. Keep dreaming your persistently playful poems but...watch your step! love donall donall
waking up to reality and 'existing' in the presence of 'beings' is a brilliant analogy.10/10
This is Wonderful reading. Eve on Earth. Your style of Poetry is so unique and holds us till the very end.........10+++
Onelia, Dreamy derives are dangerous here. Poetry is not permitted on roads. They smoke away the roads. LOL cp
The content, presentation, & composition is really different. An exotic taste! The art of writing is so interesting that as a reader I've gone through this poem from strarting to the end with the curicity. And finally, I've got a marvellous taste & offered my 10. B-e-a-t-i-f-u-l!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As you say, in our minds all is green grass and hillsides and the only hum is of the droning bees. Just back from Glastonbury - perhaps I'm still intoxicated! Fx