Dan Enache Poet Free verse

to the white adult nights that float in waves of silver

to the white adult nights that float in waves of silver,
cursing your many days like sand scattered by wind's quiver,
to time's slum that weaves memories in forgotten alleys dim,
of weather's profiles drawn in heaven's mouth, on moistened lips' rim...
nature's alternatives that spin spirals in gardens of dreams,
so you may give your word to the dead deep in clay and stone it seems,
to youth a cultured man who drinks from cups filled with wisdom's brew,
OuCULT hidden in shells of thoughts, in the core of wonder true...
your old age I shall insult with verses sharp as thorns that prick!
emperor of clowns who wears crowns made of colors and shouts thick,
your mind is in the hospital where ideas grow like wildflowers free,
in such a morally normal state that all laws walk at liberty
on the streets of your consciousness where ethical fevers dance...
for behold what the literates choke us with tongues of fire and ice's trance:
the head is the belly's periphery where thoughts boil in a sack!
of life's graduates of fate who receive diplomas from air's track,
of the diploma from death's moment when breathing becomes prayer,
the handkerchief of painted weeping that wipes makeup from stars up there,
foreheads eroded by time like cliffs beaten by flood and wave,
of colored dreams that drip from morning's palettes they gave
to which I am forever devoted, strongly bound to every breath,
the ephemeral poet who writes on water with trembling fingers' caress...
I, your eternal man who descends from constellations like rain,
from beyond HEAVEN where light weaves its mantle of silk without stain!
I live like the river, I undulate like wheat spikes in wind's beating flow,
waves over whirlpools that roll toward the edge of earth below...
to life I give reading with storm's voice, stupidity through echoes,
when I shall leave you wealth from sun's treasures, plEAsure from night's melodies that grow...
to the shining one from stars that spills its diamond dust,
lips-spells that speak desires like leaves carried by current's thrust,
to thousands, to thousands of beings who breathe the same air fired by dreams...
to the pun doctor of FATE who mixes elixirs and written stories' streams,
to the living patients of DEATH who wait in twilight halls...
I am surrounded by signs, sworn on oaths of melted wax that falls,
to the calendar its dates that drop like petals from branch on fences,
fertile pages where sentences grow like grass after thistle rains' defenses
again and again like waves that come forever on shores...
SPROUTED from all sides by buds and germinated seeds that pour,
by spring that overturns my gates with white flowers wrapped in fragrant might!
one day as it came to me to tie with long threads of yearning's flight,
the SOUTH pole with the NORTH pole binding meridians and auroras bright!
what will emerge MAN will see gazing toward heights with eyes wide spread,
watching my beloved who dances among clouds and whitened skies overhead,
to the stars' heaven that will give signs through meteor shower's rain,
urging through morning star a sign written with moon dust's chain,
the moon to become a round ball like a sphere of fine light,
following to braid you beautifully from rays and thin filaments bright,
to light's threads that weave golden curtains over valleys and mountains and hermit cells,
of our love's curtain woven from breaths and gazes where beauty dwells
SERENE like heaven after storm, like water after whirlpools cease...

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