A SCRAP OF MUSIC IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD - Poem by Nicolae Coande
while I sleep dogs guard the city they burst forth together
from their narrow universe and now they dream they're human once more
if men want to be little vicious curs, let them. nobody knows
it began today. gala gala gala the disease in my brain sleeps
I don't glow at the moment to be humiliated later. I sleep I don't have a heart
I cautiously hack my way through the forest of symbols as I walk
I'm a handsome man
born in Jerusalem in '62 A.D.
a coffee-shop philosopher
non-thinking is my art
it's in my power to rise up
to shatter the bowl
to change my voice
I'm that splendid animal that chops its head off and throws it
in the sea for the great fishes to bow to it and kiss it on the lips.
it's cold inside the head I light a fire.
it's like when I'd crack the ice in a woman
and embrace all her blood. I have a scrap of music in the back of my head.
Comments about A SCRAP OF MUSIC IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD by Nicolae Coande
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl