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Best Poems Written by Maria Mitea

Below are the all-time best Maria Mitea poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

Miracles Happen

You be the sea
I’ll be the stone
Waiting and waiting
On your seashore
To eternity and beyond
Miracles happen
Miracles happen

Miracles always
Happen!

You be the wave
I’ll be your wind
Caring and caring
Your waves i’the sand
To eternity and beyond
Miracles happen
Miracles happen

Miracles always
Happen!

You be the splash
I’ll be the waiting
You be the kiss
I’ll be the fading
Miracles happen
Miracles happen

To eternity and beyond
Miracles always
Happen!

You be the tears
I’ll be your salt
You be t’seabed
I’ll be your heaven
Miracles happen
Miracles happen

To eternity and beyond
Miracles always
Happen!

You be the darkness
I’ll be your ridge
Flying and flying abyss
Meeting sunlight
To eternity and beyond
Miracles happen
Miracles happen

Miracles always
Happen!

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

They Tell Me

we need more hospitals

i say, we need Mothers

they tell me, we need more money

i say, we need Mothers

they tell me, we need more schools

i say, we need Mothers

they tell me, we need war, revolutions, power

i tell them, we need Mothers, we need Mothers
Mothers we need,  Mothers
i scream,  we need Moooothers

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

The Night Is a Suitcase

you will never know where you forget it
or lose it,
the night is an overstuffed  suitcase
that you never know when it will open wild,

i saw you walking, even more,
i touched you a little with my elbow
everywhere
on the platform it opened like the mouth of a boa constrictor,
i see me running with a red ribbon in my hand,
for the first time we are face to face
overwhelmed by our presence
we become dwarfs: ”poems, poems,… how much lipothymia,
these poems really did it to us, it brought us into exasperation ”- you bite your chapped lips,
i look at your fingers, searching  to hold a cigarette between your lips
no words
naive, i repeat "stay, stay", the train is coming
it's time to live, you lift your suitcase (tightly tied)
i see a rabbit with wet, bright eyes running,

it's autumn, the leaves are like red crabs hanging in the trees,
i clench my teeth, my hands, my eyes tighten, again
determined i want to squeeze all the pain (i would make a fat must),
i want to slap my face,
so, i wake up
to remember how in school i had to learn the names of every war battle,
to learn the name of each river, bridge,
the name of each soldier,
if i knew them, i would be given a red pioneer tie
(which needed to be ironed and kept close to my bed)
at night
stuffed like an old suitcase
the train leaves,
as if through the fog I see you on the platform: - do you want a cigarette,
- thank you, i don't smoke.

(the smoke rolls like a boa constrictor)

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

I'Ll Be Waiting For You In Sweden

i will not blind you,
and I will not strike you with my brightness,
if you want to find me
you will always find me in the same place, on its axis
motionless,
endearing statue admiring the cute pigeons kissing,
i will not run after the sun,
i will not run after other stars, or
after the moon
for
i'm not made to walk from place to place,
not when the sun ribut not even at sunset,
if you want, in a day
or a century
you'll find me still,
for
the sky is moving for me,
you will always find me in the same place,
saguaro flower surrounded by stars,
and
if you want to see me
without the horizon or the height of the celestial heaven staying our way
you could move to sweden,
i will not blind you,
and i won't hit you like thunder,
and, if you want, even it might take  several years
i could clone myself as the southern cross,
or
in the little cloud of magellan,
and if you want to be the big cloud, there are proven advantages that in their strangeness they are poorer in metals than the milky way,
but,
better, though, i'd say, it is more practical to wait for you in sweden


#polaris

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

Sunrise Promised To Wait For Us

sunrise awaits for us
the dawn did not rise over the village,
in the eyes of the muses
the dawn promised to wait for us

muses are not like poets,
not even like the sun
that
burns its rays on the cascades moved by lazy waves,

- the dawn did not rise over the village,
the down promised to wait for us,
swore to the muses,
swore that the water would comb at the rising sun
  smoothly
it will burn in his eyes like the star of the night while planting a garden
where
the muses smolder all year round like flowers, or
like coal extracted from the hearts of poets

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

Neruda S Great Tablecloth

at the first encounter, i thought, that he stole my mother’s tablecloth,
and called it Great while she turned the flour into bread,

after, i thought, what if they were lovers, and shared the same tablecloth
while my father was sweating in his fields, and she was sipping wine from her grapes
when he wrote songs of despair, as they could not have each other,

i shake away my childish thoughts and doubt even more:
- what if they were traders,

trading the tigers, the bread,
the tyrants, the grim teeth,
the wine fields and hard eyes,
the lamb, the onions,
the hunger and the thirst,
the hours of eating the strawberries
and the blossoms on the great tablecloth.

oh, i am childish, 
jealous,
curious, and can not stop the thought of stolen tablecloths:
- what if when sad and lonely he put a spell on my mother?
and used her as a tablecloth for those who never loved, or cried,
and those who never turned the flour into bread.

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

I Am the Wind

passing storm
leaving silent
bending branches  
hitting darkness
in your windows
 
I can sing
I can cry
 
I can sing like the mother’s lullaby
and howl like the wolf in the full moon
I can shake up dreamers in the dark
 
the crying
the braking
the singing
the barking
 
I am the fright
of dry branches

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

Although We All Run After Her

it is the smallest thing on earth

smaller than an ant or a louse,
smaller than a fungus,
so small that when it passes by you can't see it,
you can't feel it, because it's the tiniest thing on earth hiding sometimes in a tear, othertimes in an outstretched hand,
sigh,
cry,

we want her for us, but she's always by our side,
with the mastery of the philosopher, it leads us by the nose to where  considers,
lures us like a gravedigger disguised in a goddess,
it does not fall on your lap, not even in your mouth like a riped pear,
because it is the most ordinary thing on earth hidden in your warmth,

we all run after her like after a bridal veil blown by the wind

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

Every Death Has a Bright Future

every bright future is a wind whisper,
a caress of the ray,
every touch in the palm is a getaway for  flying words,
each word  bears a deceive on its back,
a life spent in thought, not to withdraw in etilic sevraj, from time to time
raises the glass to taste the words  with its mouth, cheers ... cheers ...
silence,
confessing,  silence
silence,
forgiveness,
every forgiveness is a lucid grave,
a grave clear as water that  watches the angels as they grow wings and fly,
they rise and rise to unclog the springs from the air,  unearth the  sunset
and embrace the light like a newborn at the mother's breast,
every death has a mother, every death has a father.

Details | Maria Mitea Poem

The Thief

i didn’t steal your sun
i stole your smile last night, when
my dreams kept you busy with dreaming, for a
faraway land,
where people grow smiles in the rain,
and love’s born from lotus mad,

now your smile shines on my lips,
is honey for the nordic bees,
uplifts my eyes into the clouds, my face
radiates fireworks,
everyone asks me “ what did you do?
you look so beautiful?”,
words are resting in silence,

i wish i could tell them,
i am only the thief who stole your smile, when
dreams of your night kept you busy with dreaming