Socially intimate

by Andrada Costoiu

Walking through the New York Times Square,
I’m utterly in touch with the drama of this space.
A curious dog from a small balcony
Is barking to the crowds that have morphed into ghosts
And now sit around in circles to listen to the beat of spectral drums.

Their fine-tuned acoustics send bass notes of “‘bang”
Every time another human has reached the entrance of the bridge to heaven.
I pass them, still their music rumbling through my soul
In my way to the stump of the Three of Hope.
I’m going to rub its surface asking that a mother will go back to her children,
Asking that the daughter whom I had to zoom last night will see her father again,
Asking for a new choreography in my ward,
That would replace the sad with happy endings. 

I walk, thoughts flood my mind,
I feel alone ….I don’t want to be alone.
How can I cross from socially distance to socially intimate?
I stop thinking about physical nearness as the image of the ghosts gathered to listen to the drum’s concert sends shivers through my spine.
I think about the stump of the Three of Hope and speed up my steps,
If I could only save that mother for her children,
If only that father would go back home to his daughter..

I wrote this poem a few months ago. It is about a doctor in NYC, when the city was in the middle of the pandemic. The Three of Hope actually exists in NYC. And there is a story behind it……

During the 1920s and 1930s, Seventh Avenue in the 130s was nicknamed the Boulevard of Dreams, a stretch of Harlem lined with top theaters and clubs such as the Lafayette Theater and Connie’s Inn. Between these venues was a lone elm tree (see it above) known as the Tree of Hope, bringing good luck to any up-and-coming entertainer who touched it before hitting the stage—as Fletcher Henderson, Ethel Waters, Eubie Blake, and others did.

The tree didn’t last, it was chopped down in 1934. When the tree was cut down in 1934 during the expansion of 7th Avenue, it was cut into logs and sold as souvenirs. A second tree was soon planted but that too met the ax. 

Instead of it now there is a plaque, to remind of the place where the Three of Hope once was.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2020- . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2019 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.

Randomized how?

by Andrada Costoiu

California here.

This morning I was looking over the official ballot. I found it odd that Trump is at the top and Biden at the bottom! I didn’t know how they establish the order in the ballot. I did’t think it’s alphabetical because I checked and the others are also not alphabetically sorted. So, how do they determine the order?

They say that California has a randomized alphabet procedure, I went to the state’s website and you can find more about it here : California Randomized Aplhabet procedure . This procedure was established by legislation passed in 1975 in response to court rulings declaring that standard alphabetical order or incumbent-first was unconstitutional…..

I questioned the “random!” , because of the order in my ballot. But then a friend sent me hers…….

So, not everybody gets the same thing…. BUT!! She lives in a different county. Other people in the same county with me got the same order as mine……

So now, I would be curious to know if the ballot’s order is randomized per county or individually?

Elections are stranger than fiction….:)))))

My poem “Canvas” on Free Verse Revolution

by Andrada Costoiu

 The theme for this month for Free Verse Revolution is “Reflections”. Reflections could mean anything, from reflections in the mirror, water….to anything that you think it could be related with reflections.

For me, it was …the following poem.

You can read it at Free Verse Revolution if you click here. If you are a poet, I encourage you to submit some of your poetry to this blog, as I think it is a wonderful way of sharing our work.

Canvas

by Andrada Costoiu

A house with white walls
And spell-binding shades,
A place of eternal youth,
Where love slips through the windows’ cracks
And warms the quiet air of night.

The door is open,
Tracks of mud from the garden,
Lead the way to a green tree,
The place of original sin.

We ate its apples to the core
And now it’s budding white blossoms,
The color of our dreams.

The blue night sky is meditating in silence,
You catch a falling star and keep it in your pocket,
Its bright and yellow light caresses your face and mine.

I lay my head on your chest
And trace with my fingers the vowels of love.

My paint coated fingers are trembling.
White, green, and blue,
Touches of tints and tones,
Reflect the shape of my thoughts on the canvas.

It was early this summer when I lost you,
I ran my fingers against the coffin’s glass
That locked you in…

My painted coated fingers are trembling.
White, green, and blue,
Touches of tints and tones,
Reflect the colors of my eternity with you. 

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2020- . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2019 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.

Hello : from one mailbox to another

by Andrada Costoiu

I love nature. I do not hug trees. However, this morning when I went to my mailbox, which I have not checked in the past 3 days, I got a sudden urge to go hug a tree ….Why are there almost 30 pieces of election materials in my mailbox? Really , do we need to be invaded with these? And, if we do, do they really need to be HUGE?!!!

This one that I measured from Trump & Dixon is just an example. They are all about the same size, regardless the party orientation, or the Propositions they advertise for.

I live in California. Is it just here? Is it just my area? Does your mailbox looks the same?

I’m so tired of this …..

This is so satisfying

by Andrada Costoiu

Today my son received the Oculus. It’s what he wanted for his birthday……

He’s been waiting for it for a while. And then the box arrived.

I was just there while he was taking off the plastic and then opening the box. He looked at me, smiled and said : “Mom, this is so satisfying.”

Kids…..

Remember, that glorious feeling, when you get something nice, maybe something that you dreamed of …….?

Watching him open the box felt as warm as a hot chocolate on a rainy day….

My poem “An intimate accordance with life” published in Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words

by Andrada Costoiu

Image by Jemima Muir, for Visual Verse

Visual Verse is an anthology of art, poetry, short fiction and non-fiction. You can find more information about it here Visual Verse : An Anthology of Art and Words . Each month authors are asked to write something, within an hour, inspired by an image. The image for this month was the one above. Below is the poem I wrote, which you can find on page 13 of this month’s anthology.

In accordance with life

by Andrada Costoiu

He shed the stiff, dead skins
That he once rightfully wore,
And let the universe move through him, 
Turning the pulses of energy
Into life.

Perhaps suffering,
For this takes courage,
He became a tumult of ideas and emotions 
Both sincere and worthy, 
To be watered and nourished.

If you’ll come close to his face,
You’ll blink twice and then realize 
That he is struggling, 
As the waves swell and recede within his body,
Receptive to the ebbs and flows of life.

He is embracing, cherishing, protecting creation,
Knowing that when the time will come,
Death will not take him entirely,
And he will continue to exist,
As the universe will turn him
Into pulses of energy that will create life.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2020- . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2019 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.

Whatever we call beauty

by Andrada Costoiu

Mirrors that slim down,
That show no wrinkles,
Expensive clothes, 
The perfect bodies,
The perfect abs,
The perfect color of your skin…..

“The perfect” floats everywhere
And is a salient feature of our social story.

Since the earliest days,
Scores of media pundits 
Have created illusions
And broke our minds into thinking 
That their illusions are true.

We all clap together,
At whatever they call beauty,
Across time and space….
Meanwhile, liters of hot tears,
Fall from the eyes of those who do not fit.

Whatever we call beauty?

Have we forgotten 
To shine the magic lanterns into who we really are?
Have we forgotten,
To think in hearts and not in images?

 ****

The bogyman is difference,
Sustaining that sinister, yet profound insight 
Into the cleavages of our societies.
Not everyone can feel everyone’s pain,
But has numbness been accepted and embraced?

Whatever we call beauty?

Have we forgotten pain?
Have we forgoten
Our very first heartbreaks,
And how that made our world feel cold and frightening?

Whatever we call beauty?
Whatever you call beauty?

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2020- . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2019 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.

Bring me something old

by Andrada Costoiu

Today, my son is at the computer for his classes, as he is doing on-line schooling.

He screamed from his room :” Mom! Mom! The teacher said to bring something old!”

Me: ” Old…let me see what I can find……!”

Him: ” Mom! Come on! “

Me: ” Wait!” , I say, as I am scrambling to find something so he could show to his class….

Him: : Mom! Ok! Listen…why don’t you come to the screen and I’ll show you..!”

Me: “What?!!!!”

Him: ” Yes, she said to bring something old….”

Me, puzzled at first and then laughing: ” I am not old!”

Note: kids and how they see us, parents. I thought it was hilarious….just another of his pearls :))))

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2020- . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2019 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.

Pshyche’s forge

by Andrada Costoiu

I travel back to the beginning.
Sparks are flying,
I watch as she reaches to desires, hopes and dreams
And puts them all together in a bundle 
For a tomorrow that has yet to exist.

She now works at the edges and prepares to step off.

My palms cover my face that has yet to be born,
For I already know 
that it will all come to invade
My bones,
My skin, 
My mind.

Covered in gods’ dust she’s working on the souls’ forge,
Creating one for me.
Psyche! You were also born mortal!
What are you doing?! Make me right!
I want to yell, give me strength!
But she doesn’t hear me,
And instead she pours more passion.

Or maybe she did hear me as turns to me and smiles.
She whispers: “all is well with your soul
Best of souls have passion
This is what makes them the bravest and the strongest.”

I frown, 
Not knowing yet the wisdom
In what a thought to be one of her foolish mistakes.
I frown, 
Not knowing that without passion
Muttered curses and love songs would all sound the same.

I took what she gave me,
And went to discover the unknown.

I travel back to the beginning.
Sparks are flying,
Covered in gods’ dust Psyche is working on the souls’ forge.
Memories of the day before the beginning are running through my veins,
She turns to me,
I smile and thank her for making me burn,
For making me feel,
For making me whole.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

© Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2020- . Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Andrada Costoiu and a-passion4life.com, 2019 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

My new poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.