FRANCISC EDMUND BALOGH

 

Disguise For A Tear

Time slowed down, 

shy and hurt 

in its instinct of disposing 

of memories-

your subtle smile 

prelude to the imponderability

of the verses,

a volatile sensation of eternity,

our conjugated silence's break of dawn,

your subtle smile - 

disguise for your

tear that felt on the table

and turned into the bread 

we broke and shared

at the gate of paradise.

I Can’t Tell

I can’t tell to whom 

I' have written my poems,

to people, to God or just to you...

the birds, the trees must know better 

or maybe tonight ‘s lonely, single

star sky - a torch of our

labyrinthic hope of eternity.

FRANCISC EDMUND BALOGH