The City Is Empty

/, Blesok no. 100/The City Is Empty

The City Is Empty

The City Is Empty

(for Igor Isakovski)
You leave crushed knees
fallen on silence and ground
you had to step “deep into the hole”
you of all…

left wandering in disbelief
eyes unrecognizable from crying
and verses that still float above the city
together with the nightingale, that infamous bird
lost under your window in the middle of winter…

the city is empty:
from the wind in dancing hair
from the traces of the bike you rode
from an always heavy backpack
from the loud laughter in between earphones

the night is empty too
your faithful one, your love and foe
the only one that could wait for the dawn with you
the birds you took from the branches
to put them to sleep in your verses

the souls are empty
free of emotions, pale and distressed
as you polish a broad wonderful bar
and get annoyed with pens that do not write
ready to cuss, and conquer everything around you with beauty
in this world, in that world and all other possible worlds

you’ll see them
you’ll see them

your essence dispersed
in a shine around the universe

13.10 18.12.014

2018-08-21T17:22:35+00:00 September 9th, 2015|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 100|0 Comments