Poems by EUGEN EVU

The Threshold

At the threshold between light and magic
I embrace in cosmic clearing a drop
Of the dew of Heaven. Sighs
A strange longing –
dream into death – its threshold
I am searching for you Under the golden darkness – alive Flute
and Psalm
In which to bury my face. “Mon métier et mon art
C’est vivre” ?

The Inner Biologist

He determines you
By the game of conflicts He knows what you learn He works at the filters
Of dreams
He separates nothingness from real He knows when he will escape He, a prisoner only to himself, Above good and evil,
Of his other alter ego The sharp top of the Trinity He cannot be distroyed
Your friend into death Your invisible twin Your inner biologist
The sacred seven of the chakra
He is the law

The Game of Poetry

Riding deep fears Death, you cannot reach us Lord, the little eternity,
And patience in the graveyards
Of millennia into millennia
The wind of the Vespers knows it. Or Death whom are you laughing at? That we dream seeing through you
And through a jump onto the other side
We are afforesting onto a book
You are about to read, you are about to snow
Unfortunate girl,
do you still believe in stories… Can you see? We are, you are not.

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