Sometimes you hear the thoughts
Before the words are spoken.

Hiding under the clouds,
When the full moon is above.

Published originally December 11, 2011 @ 1:43 am.

The meaningful days in
a box of pictures,
a box of stars,
purple and silver.

Did you hear the spring?
‘I looked’, he said,
it was behind the pictures,
in the box,
all covered with snow,
purple and silver.

Did you hide?
‘Under the moon I did’,
he whispered,
‘as it seductively
drowned in the asphalt’,
purple and silver.

He likes those days,
When the clouds are coming,
In the city,
He likes those days.
When the raindrops form,
In front of his window.
Thousands raindrops,
Morphing and falling three hundred storeys down,
In the sticking filth,
In the everlasting fog of the old city,
He likes those days.
He likes when the clouds are coming.

An older poem recycled.

IN THE BEGINING
FEW PICTURES

Three suns
Were born
On the boats traversing the sky.
A lavish breakfast
They craved,
A great sacrifice,
The golden eyes of time.
A lavish breakfast
They craved,
Before breakfast
They darkened.

1.1.

… (On the top of the building across there is a small child. With poison arrows he is killing the clouds. On the street, the undead celebrate, on the street, there is a streetlight and metal garbage can…)
Sol: (He is knocking on the door)
Hirona: (Just a voice) Who is it?
Sol: Sol.
Hirona: Who?
Sol: Sol.
Hirona: (She looks through the small opening on the door) That is a stupid name!
Sol: (Surprised)
Hirona: (She opens the door) I am Hirona.
Sol: (He is hiding his tears)
Sol: God…
… (The garbage can on the corner was totally crashed by a machine that fall from the sky. The can is bleeding…)
Sol: …damn.
Hirona: This is for you, an umbrella.
Sol: Thank you.
… (Hirona closes the door. On the street it is snowing and everything is quiet…)
Sol: (He is knocking on the door)
(No answer)
Sol: Beautiful…
(The streetlight is off)
Sol: (He is knocking on the door)
(The streetlight is on)
Hirona: Who is it?
Sol: You forgot…
(Small white flowers are growing from the blood of the garbage can…)
Sol: … your face.
Hirona: I am sorry. I am really lost these days.
Hirona: Thank you.
Sol: Hmmm. (He is thinking)
(Still snowing)
Sol: You know, I am looking for the Third street.
Sol: I am caring…
(He is putting down the frozen bird from his head)
Sol: (tired) … a gift.
(He seats on the street)

1.2.

… (He learned that the music heals all the wounds)
Sol: (He is walking on а narrow path) The frozen desert is behind this park. The shadows and sculptures of this ice age are dancing. The clouds have covered the sky…
Sol: Someone has closed all the winds in the glass bottle and they are in the future.
Sol: (He seats under an old frozen tree) Damn…
Sol: I was seating in front of the door, too long.
Sol: I saw.
Sol: No one.
Sol: Suddenly music.
Sol: Some child killed the cloud.
Sol: One day.
Sol: The spring will come.
Sol: One day.
Sol: (He is playing the flute)
(From nowhere the crows appeared to listen to the music. Few old and wounded people also came to the bridge)
Sol: (He is playing the flute)
(The music stopped)

Take a
Tear
And put it
In your eye.
Take a
Tear
From the eyes of the
Frozen figures.
Take a
Tear
From the eyes
Of the sick and the wounded.
Choose
Free.

1.3.

… (They have locked the sun in the cage above the bridge)
The Kid: Why?
Sol: It is too cold.
Sol: You rush too much, Kid…
(It throws the bait…)
Sol: The people should be happy.
(Nervously)
Sol: Hide now.
(They are hiding behind one aluminum can)
Sol: Shhh…
(Countless colorful butterflies are arriving from everywhere. Who can resist freshly prepared flowers?)
Sol: Now.
(The net killed half of the butterflies)
Sol: Take my red scarf.
The Kid: (It puts the scarf)
Sol: Good bye.
(He puts a bridle on one butterfly)
Sol: (Waves)
(The Kid flies away on the butterfly)
Sol: (Looks att the broken wings on the ground) What a mess.
(Someone jumped from the bridge)
Sol: (Sadly) What a mess.
Sol: (He closed his eyes)
Sol: (Few tears rolled in his hand. He opened his umbrella.)
(Dead butterflies fall from the sky)
Sol: You know. The butterflies live three days.
Sol: Then, they live three more.
(It starts to snow)
Sol: The unlucky ones.
Sol: (A bloody tear drops from his eye)
Sol: They like the light.
Sol: Hand.
Sol: Wool glows.
Sol: It is terribly cold.
Sol: (He straightens her body up) Wool hat.
Sol: Wonderful.
Hirona: (She opens the eyes) I am Hirona.
Sol: I am Sol.
Hirona: (Looking at the dead butterflies) That is a stupid name.
Hirona: I have never seen so colorful creatures.
Sol: (He gives her one butterfly) You have to be hungry.
Hirona: Thank you.
(The streetlights smiled in the pearls on her necklace)
Sol: I am not hungry.
(Her shadow travelled away in the pearls on her necklace…)

The sky cursed bitterly
At the colorful butterflies
The sky cursed bitterly
For ten nights
…
They killed three stars
Three evening stars.

Note: I will slowly translate my old play about Sol. Click here to read this play in Macedonian.

While the sky was grey,
He walks again
Along the fence
Where no one really passes,
He plays with the wires
Playing a song to the autumn,
While the sky is grey.