Waltz For Zizi
Of Hundred Poems
A castle of yellow leaves, and a smile
a blue painted sky, and an ocean just the same
a ship, sailing a kiss, across the ocean and the sky
restless, in the direction of another's lips,
Giants and white creatures of the moon
hunting for trophies,
across the moon's white and freckled cheeks,
and a god, spilling all his stars, in the eyes of a muse.
Hundreds of poems, millions of verses
and a fool spilling the ink of his pen
out of love, for the November that left him
for the hug of a barbarian.
A night's dream followed by a morning
a story of love and then nothing.
A memento of you and me
a girl that ran away, like a butterfly
and a boy that in her absence, became a man.
Shaped by her lips,
this is the story of his poems,
not about love
not about hate
but about something that he saw
in the eyes of November.
It's a funny story now, when I think about it.
It's not tragic anymore.
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Comments about this poem (Of Hundred Poems by Waltz For Zizi )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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