From the book An
Honest Breath of a Dreamer by Petia Barzakova Mercado
Attention: All
Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2000 Petia
Barzakova Mercado
Title: An Honest
Breath of a Dreamer
Subtitle: a collection
of alleviating and awakening poetry for everyone
Subject: Contemporary
poetry
Length: 148 pages (8
½ x 11, Size 12, Arial)
Parts: 1. Oh, I get so inspired…
2. You eyes…
3. If I
could say one thing…
Samples from part two:
The glamour of the flames—
With gold melting into
copper;
Burning into many planes—
Electrify the gloom with
glare.
Couldn’t see the night
Or sense the biting air.
Darkness singed out of
sight.
Forest trees died there!
Oh, so warm and pretty!
Powerful flames invite
The bitter heart they pity
To
jump inside a luring fire.
I am bound to cry insensibly
and yearn every single day
to lay on my hollow bed
covered with coal sheets
and write about my misery
tell about my inescapable
spell
I wish to forget
we ever met
down in my horrifying sorrow
I search for a ladder
to step up higher
but am I so blind
and am I so un-liked
by the desirable luck
I am doomed to wait
impatiently
and spill invisible tears
endlessly
I found someone new
to cover up the dark
but I still can’t feel a
spark
of light
he lies beside me in this
bed
but when I am awake
I can’t feel him in the
darkness
he disappears when I think
of love
and your glamorous face
comes along
I smile at him but it is
hard to laugh
with someone I don’t even trust
it is hard to live
with someone I wouldn’t even
last
then I see your face once
again
but your insolent deeds just
leave me in vain
it would never be the same
When you handed my your lie
And I looked way up
While you tried to
manipulate
So did the sun run away
And the flowers and trees
escape
Stretched up higher
When you lit up the fire
And I claim the mountains
Scratching with my nails
Not to bother
But you lips throw me off
the hills
Back on my knees
How dare you look at the Sun
And deceive her with your
moonlight charm
Spreading stars of regrets
And I claim the mountains
Scratching with my nails
Not to bother
But you lips throw me off
the hills
Back on my knees
To fill in absence
In my vulnerable life
Your fingers dug into my
flesh
Searching for my heart
Then ripped it apart
With the roots
You
extract
I sat and counted empty
hours
Stared at the never-ending
walls
I am the only one who waited
But the dream isn’t vivid
anymore
I am awake now!
I still wish I kept on
dreaming
In blinding colors and
blooming flowers
I didn’t walk on the dusty
earth
Instead I flew like
weightless feather
Blown away by someone’s
breath
I never knew who closed my
eyes
And pressed upon a burden
I carry on my bony shoulders
Pain not mine
But it’s too late to carry
on
And I seem to ‘ve lost my
way
So, at these final hours
I will open wide my crying
eyes
Wipe the burning tears away
Shed the stabbing memory
Hide it in a shrouded place
I will never come across
again
Is this the beginning
Or the end?
Astounded, I listen in
silence
I glare without a single
blink
Patience
in
fear
I whisper without a breaking
sound
Amazed,
you
leave me
But my past just fosters
eerie flurry
Dreadful memories shout a
distant black reality
Be aware!
But then, I’m allured
benumbed
So, I doubt before since now
A single move could crack
such a rare tiny glass
Spill the marvelous love
inside
Magical Serum
So fragile
You cuddle away my feeble
ache
I find myself
Dreaming awake
In a ravishing fable
to continue this wanton
fight
my breath chokes my heart
and I exhale memories
I could not wane
I could not wash away
chills and dismays my chest
my tears divest
and dry on my face
I reach out with my wrinkled hand
then regret my unsure breath
find me,
once
again
I urge to feel the same
a lover’s breath to undress
my face
and un-choke my winded
breath
find me
until this day
I have been without a home
and drowned in a lake
overflowed with tears
just my own
I grabbed the pen
and wrote a song
about the time
I loved you so
and you hated me more
I used the darkest ink
and spilled across a few
coal notes
I leveled them in line
the only way, I figured,
to sing a dismal song
would be to moan
I doubt the singer
who claims to sing
my dreary song
the way I heard it then
so, how about a song
I devote to you
the one who inspired me
to sketch on filthy paper
lonely notes with dripping
dingy ink
weeping with a fallen pulse