“Strawberries” by Edwin George Morgan. Right taste in the right moment…

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

Carpe Diem Special *Jack Kerouac’s “glow worm”*

This week our source of inspiration on Carpe Diem Special  is a haiku, written by Jack Kerouac:

* * *
glow worm
sleeping on this flower –
your light’s on

* * *

The following  ones are mine – an attempt  to stay close to the same mood and spirit:

* * *
brighter than fireflies
your eyes

* * *
path in forest
illuminated by fireflies
your silhouette

* * *

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees…

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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water,
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a bunch of flowers, every day, between my hands.

You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.

The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind. The wind.
I alone can contend against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.

You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Curl round me as though you were frightened.
Even so, a strange shadow once ran through your eyes.

Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
Until I even believe that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
/Pablo Neruda/

I Love You More Than Nature…


Quite some time ago on my blog I use to post poetry that was not mine but had caught my eye…or more precisely – touched strings of my heart in one way or another. When I read “I Love You More Than Nature” by a Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko, it kept echoing on the back of my mind and now it is here…

I love you more than nature,
As you are nature yourself,
I love you more than freedom,
Without you it will imprison me.

I love you carelessly,
Like the abyss, without any ruts!
I love you more than possible,
More than impossible…I love you.

I love recklessly indefinitely.
Even boozing, even being rude.
And more than myself – that’s for sure.
Even more than just myself.

I love you more than Shakespeare,
More than the beauty of the whole world!
Even more than the world’ s music,
As you are the book and music yourself.

I love you more than fame,
Even far ahead in the future!
More than any rusty country
Because my Motherland is you, not her.

Are you unhappy? Asking to care?
Don’ t annoy God with such requests!
I love you more than happiness.
I love you more than love.

PS: One of the ways it has become when the words melted with music in the original – Russian version:



 Image courtesy of L.Proffitt

Only a twist
To see the filigree petals
Depicting a rainbow within.
For mandalas to blossom
Into the light years ahead
Along the gnarls of the Silk Road.
The obscure ocean depths
To metamorphose into
Mosaics of shattered icebergs.
A gentle shake
For verdancy in all shades
From the Amazon rainforests to glisten,
And labyrinths of the mountain caves
Unveil the secrets of the fallen stars.
Another twist and turn
For crushed pieces to glide together
In amber, long forgotten
Among the grains of sand.
Pebbles of glass perplexed
With myriads of patterns.
Serenity lost in fervor of discovering –
I am learning to see
Myself in the world
All over again.

A kaleidoscope is a cylinder with mirrors containing loose, colored objects such as beads or pebbles and bits of glass. As the viewer looks into one end, light entering the other creates a colorful pattern, due to the reflection off of the mirrors. Coined in 1817 by Scottish inventor Sir David Brewster, “kaleidoscope” is derived from the Ancient Greek καλός (kalos), “beautiful, beauty”, εἶδος (eidos), “that which is seen: form, shape” and σκοπέω (skopeō), “to look to, to examine”, hence “observer of beautiful forms.” /

How do you spell ‘love’?


i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh … And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new.