by Andrada Costoiu
Seconds, flying out the window of time.
Within,
Womb admissions are granted,
Exit is guaranteed.
Once here, everyone is writing.
There are old books, new books,
Critics are many,
But so are those that praise everyone’s splendid contributions.
“Can you imagine a more perfect venue?”
An old man asks as he catches the gaze of his wife,
And smiles remembering how they learned
To exchange vows.
Frail hand in his, she stands,
“No,” she says. “It was perfect.”
And together they walk
Under the saber arch of those living within,
Toward the exit.
“You are the most stunning goddess,” he says,
As they walk outside in the luminous sun.
“I love you, “she answers,
As the cover of their book’s final print is being issued.
For the first time ever,
They look at the house from the outside.
Lights are on, and the inside is busy,
Everyone is writing,
In a day that still exists….while its seconds are flying through the window of time.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
by Andrada Costoiu
Perilous tongue, nevertheless, defensive,
You leap yourself before you fall,
Disguised, it’s easy to miss your anguish from the distance,
As jesters mean to humor….and entertain them all.
The audience is laughing,
You stand for them, despoiled of your own feelings,
Knowing that is a thousand times better to take the vow of madness,
Than love and be betrayed.
So loud and yet so silent,
A double movement of your heart,
Your effort is exhausting but their eyes don’t see it,
Because your art prevails, and the suppression plays it part.
Better not see …. just laugh,
Aren’t we all?
As you are on the stage, you show them,
That in love ….you always have to leap yourself before you fall.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
Photo by Joetography
This train stops at no station,
Not yet,
It climbs towards the evening,
Carrying feelings.
It smells like perfume and old leather chairs.
Silent, but crowded,
All spread across the wagons,
This train holds life.
With me, there’re other lovers,
Not mine,
Some godlike youth, some older,
Seeming to smile,
And mingled with their features
There is the promise’s play.
Upward a gaze, my heart is warm,
I ask the sky of us,
And wonder, if you’re waiting.
There is no answer, but I know
That you are climbing the tower of desire,
And from afar you’re watching
The train……
Zig zagging through the hills,
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack,
The love song that carries me to you.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
City of lights,
Half phantasy, half historical molding,
Is where the degree of liberation is measured
In the number of dreams.
Here it is not easy
Running out of thrills.
Whirlwinds deliver sensations,
Espouse bodies,
Make hearts sweat.
It’s Saturday morning,
Smiles turned into butterflies overnight,
Hearts rummage in enigmas,
Cause we are young.
New York, New York,
You turn the invisible into something beautiful,
A city that’s always hopeful,
Where the degree of liberation is measured
In the number of dreams.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
Photo: me, by the beach; Credit: W
By the beach,
Where accomplished stoics,
Come to give life meaning,
I stand to listen.
I hear through the waves,
That it is not indifference
That oversees this world,
As everything has feelings,
Even the smallest, juvenile rockfish.
Breaking, my thoughts
And my ideas fly into splinters,
Only my heart is open to the confession of the waves,
As only she knows what to do.
I let go of the past,
And earn the power,
To become,
The maker of new love.
By the beach,
No longer bound by footsteps,
I stand to embrace you.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
I smelled the flowers in my garden, their perfume filled my nostrils and my soul and gave me courage. They keep blossoming one year after another, why shouldn’t I?
I put on my long cream leather gloves and I finally grabbed it. It was sitting there, in a corner, for a long time, but I did not want to let it go. They were all packed in it, my broken dreams. The suitcase was big, and heavy. I put it down several times before I reached the door, but then I gathered my strength and loaded it in the trunk of my car.
It was a beautiful April day, almost summer, with a clear blue sky. My wheels kept rolling until I got to the ocean, to a familiar spot where I often come. I know the shore like the back of my hand, the tall cliffs, the places where it is safe to walk and where it is not.
I parked close to a cliff, one of the tallest spots. It is a 60 feet drop, maybe more. I opened the sunroof, wide and looked at the sky. No clouds. I wondered where I was wrong and where I was right, but these questions died quickly.
Taking a deep breath, I got out and opened the trunk. There they were, all packed in the suitcase, my broken dreams. I grabbed it and dragged it to the edge of the cliff. I almost tripped because my running shoes slipped over the grass, but after all the struggles I went through, this was the last one.
I stood by the edge, with the suitcase next to me. The ocean was in reflux, and the sand underneath was dry. I took a deep breath, then another and with both hands I lifted the suitcase and threw it over the cliff. I did not look down, but I heard the loud bang. I waited, but there was no shockwave.
My mind rambled. Over the years I learned many valuable life lessons and all of them turned me into the woman that I am today. I think all of us, once upon a time, were weak little girls who thought that everyone else is as pure and as innocent as we are (or were). I think all of us have fought back harder even when our minds convinced us that we will not survive the storms that others have brought upon us, especially when we were in love.
I stood by the edge and in front of me was the ocean, endless, beautiful as in the day when it was created. It was midday and it smelled like summer fields mixed with salted water. I felt it. One beat, then another. It was my heart, beating straightforwardly, as genuine as it always did. It was not afraid to express its needs, its passions, its feelings. I smiled and knew that I would wear it on my sleeve, not afraid to find another lion heart that would want to conquer the world and be true. In this world where “soft” power might be seen as irrelevant, soft is the power. Soft means vulnerable, but it also means strong.
I did not look down. I turned around and walked back to my car thinking that I am an adventurer; I am not just another girl…. I am every girl.
I started the engine and smiled. It was the beginning. More dreams, more hopes, more love. Unafraid, I pushed forward, knowing that I can handle everything because…… when the going gets tough, the tough gets going.
I am not just another girl…. I am every girl…..
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
He walked doubting,
Alone,
Questioning rejection,
Like a lunatic crazed by his own heart.
What matters now,
That their last link was broken?
Exhausted he sits,
He rests.
Is he no longer believing?
In quietness he contemplates the procession of his own feelings.
Some were murdered by others,
Some still exist,
And new ones are born.
Between the seeds and the flowers,
His heart is not empty.
He is a man,
An adventurer,
More of a saint than a charlatan,
Who hopes to save their souls.
Broken hearts will mend with white flower,
A second innocence,
A second chance.
He picks it up and walks again,
To her….
For nothing is without hope when you believe.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
Hit by the armor piercing drops,
I’m still alive, and better.
I promised when the thunder rumbled,
That I will let the rain wash them away.
The fears sunken in darkness,
Gave way to light and to bands of color,
And then I saw the rainbow.
I thought I’m ready now to start only worshiping the sun,
But colors had melancholies awaken.
It’s like a circle….
Springs of my childhood, joy,
Loves of the past, both joy and sorrow,
The gates, the walls, the doors I’ve built,
They all belong to me.
I am not perfect, but then who is?
The one who says that has no fear?
The one who says that only loves and never hates?
The one who knows and never learns?
I can’t control my feelings,
But in my smallness, I can approach my center.
I find it full of holes,
Where dreams, and fears and loves have fallen like the autumn leaves.
I am not perfect,
I fear, I love and hate, I do not know….
I am not perfect,
But every day I learn,
To patch with hopes, and dreams the holes left at my center,
By fallen autumn leaves.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
by Andrada Costoiu
On a hill covered with yellow flowers
One more dandelion has lost its fluff in the wind
Over my wishful thinking.
It smells like grass and newness,
As spring is blowing its wind of perfection over this side of the world.
Oceans, seas, hills and mountains between us,
I still hear your heartbeat,
What would I do without it?
It may have been easier for Socrates and Aristotle,
To exhaust the problems of everything and anything,
Then it is for a lover to explain the world without the other.
I do excavations every day….
And as there is grace in all created things,
I find it also in the archeology of my memory.
All moments have language, smiles, smells,
They have you…
From afar you enter my burning solitude,
And make me feel alive.
Stay!
I should carry a dagger to scare away the night,
Because I don’t dream of you every time I’m asleep.
How do I love you from afar?
My thinking puts forth no fruit,
But my heat does…. I just do.
© 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, 2020 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
My 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.
Andrada Costoiu 