CV: Dorina Neculce: - Born June 13, 1964
Neculce village in the county of Botosani
Dorina Neculce , is a member of Cultural Society of Junimea 90 - Iasi in 2010. She has become:. Corresponding Member (invited) at the Writers Union from USA, on May 27, 2014.The National Writers Union of U.S.
Neculce village in the county of Botosani
Dorina Neculce , is a member of Cultural Society of Junimea 90 - Iasi in 2010. She has become:. Corresponding Member (invited) at the Writers Union from USA, on May 27, 2014.The National Writers Union of U.S.
poezii care vor fi publicate in Antologia internationala ,,The Art to be Human,,-vol. 15
1. I am a writing machine
obsolete with a meat ribbon
the poet supress me in his hands
of blood: tick tick tick
my veins are flowing
turning loose the walls
are hating me
the housewives
with fallen breast
I become
expensive
tiresome
metaphorical
I pretend
in subtle way
I’m only
a crying I tell myself and
I scream freeing me
through the rain of blood
in the darkness
my mouth
is changing
in the mouth of the wolf
the poet supress me in his hands
of blood: tick tick tick
my veins are flowing
turning loose the walls
are hating me
the housewives
with fallen breast
I become
expensive
tiresome
metaphorical
I pretend
in subtle way
I’m only
a crying I tell myself and
I scream freeing me
through the rain of blood
in the darkness
my mouth
is changing
in the mouth of the wolf
2. my name is Sophia
for a while I have been separated living
on the edge of the broken dream
I go in and
I go out
with my hands tied up I hear
closed quietness in a world of story
how can you be a shadow over other shadows
a savage rose a petrified thought
I hear the beats of my heart at noon
and I tell them:
I want all or nothing
(but what can you ask
to a common killer
more than)
one last bullet
a reinstalled finger
on the edge of the broken dream
I go in and
I go out
with my hands tied up I hear
closed quietness in a world of story
how can you be a shadow over other shadows
a savage rose a petrified thought
I hear the beats of my heart at noon
and I tell them:
I want all or nothing
(but what can you ask
to a common killer
more than)
one last bullet
a reinstalled finger
3.I am lost
In my soul
Gait in my fingers
my blood cold
- Poor child -
remained without border
I try to stray
over the banks of fog
turning my eyes
in the depths of springs
You- always depart-
with just wages up
my wandering soul
Gait in my fingers
my blood cold
- Poor child -
remained without border
I try to stray
over the banks of fog
turning my eyes
in the depths of springs
You- always depart-
with just wages up
my wandering soul
4,the death's dolls
when ends this run
I tell
I am a human good
I carry my pain mask
of silver which grew up deep
in flesh the bled flows
my mornings can be your nights and
my nights can be edge of time
I am
a human as anyone else
swimming through the daily asphalt
of the plumb city
leaving my mark
of earth
I leave the curtain over
a field
in which kill themselves dolls
with rotten eyelids
with leaning mouths
as in one last call
I am a good man
I don’t watch
I tell
I am a human good
I carry my pain mask
of silver which grew up deep
in flesh the bled flows
my mornings can be your nights and
my nights can be edge of time
I am
a human as anyone else
swimming through the daily asphalt
of the plumb city
leaving my mark
of earth
I leave the curtain over
a field
in which kill themselves dolls
with rotten eyelids
with leaning mouths
as in one last call
I am a good man
I don’t watch
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