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Julia

PO# 94197
Slovak Republic
Slovak Republic
Julia. 21. I write letters. I read books. I daydream. I dwell on the past and run quite fast. I have a weakness for pens and high heels.
November 8, 2018
 

#2
In the fleeting distance
rows of tiny flats alight like
earthly stars of amber

STARS
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November 6, 2018
 

#1
Ghost of Christmas past
mouthing silent winter hymnals
snow fell so achingly.

RANDOM ACTS OF POETRY - DAY
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June 28, 2018
 

She saw the stars in his eyes
One by one she would pull them to her
tie them up in satin ribbons
and hang them in her tiny room.

And because she loves stars
and fears darkness
She put her head on the concrete pavement
curled up
and said to him slowly:
throw me away
pour me out
leave me lying on the pavement-
dirty dish water
soap bubbles down the drain
donate me to charity-
an oversized coat-
please.
no more stealing stars.
no more broken hearts.
No more empty darkness.

Just me
lying on a pavement-
when they see the small puddle
they will take it for rain.

IN YOUR EYES
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June 21, 2018
 

The Chair.

The atramentous Atlantic divides Europe from America
(the blurry dripping liquid)
Borders divide countries
(stray flowers and sharp weed)
Fences divide fields
(the low hush of wheat fluttering in the wind)

This chair divides me from you.
(The polished wood, the hard metal)

And now you sit one seat away from where you used to sit
too polite to draw away further
too uneasy to come nearer.


That chair-
deep as the Atlantic
sharp as barbed wire.

LONE SOULS
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January 31, 2018
 

That chair
A dark, dark marron
run your numb fingers
across its smooth, gentle surface
its curvaceous armrests
its creaking hinges
the heritage of generations
who lounged on that chair
talkedlaughedwaitedkissedstared-

A piano player
The notes joyous
and then suddenly breaking
into a quiet, weeping melody.

I saw a girl once
she sat on that chair
Her face crumbled
The face of a Greek statue
slashedkickedbroken
and then
her shaking hand
gently, gently touched
the polished wood
in a single, momentous
silent sigh.

KING EDWARD VIII
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December 8, 2017
 

The Past.

I have a blue bag with two badges on it
One carries a name of a band which split up
the other was given to me by a boy, who pretends I no longer exist.
I touched the badges today, gently, with my fingers
Traced the smooth, cold surface-
their scratches and bruises-
blue and yellow-

Did that hurt?
Is Past ever past?

NIGHT SKY
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October 8, 2017
 

Evening of the eighth.
damp yellow, red, brown
leaves flying through the air
they were golden.
ominous atrament clouds
hanging quietly
they were waiting.
A black cat walks along
the pedestrian crossing
pauses, its furry ears flapping
in the chilly wind.
Life imitates art, they say
and isn´t this a scene
just like from a book?
And so:
Let the cats roam
Let the wind blow
Let the leaves fall
Let life be prettier
than
it
is.

INK DROP
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August 31, 2017
 

As if preserved
by som force
the house still stands
as it did
ten years ago-
our sleepovers
starry skies
and cakes-
and now
I am changed
my hair is longer
my heart is heavier
and the house
still the same.
The carpets
the elderflower syrup
the purring cat
dim lighting
and in the great bed
two children nestled
side by side.
I smile at them.
Look at you-
I used to lie in your bed
I used to touch these walls
I stroked the cat
and read bedtime stories-
and now you are here
I´m not sad, but-
those two words
"used to be"
have a strong power.
And this house-
A fixed point
in changing times.

TEA TIME
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July 25, 2017
 

There is a school
standing abandoned
I touch the glass doors
with my fingers.
peer through them.
stacked old chairs
chalk dust
withered plants
pencils.
I used to walk
those corridors
I used to sit
on these chairs
I held those
creaking doors
I held those
rooms bathed in
sunlight
in my fingers-
Ghosts.

INK DROP
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July 25, 2017
 

Dear,

Sometimes
I wish I could
timetravel,
climb into your
atramentous blue bed,
hide under the covers,
wrap my arms around you,
You, in your cotton white shirt,
You would  hold me and sigh.
A crisp, white December,
You wouldn´t know
that it is not me,
not 2011 me,
but 2017 me because
I´d wear the same dress,
smile the same smile.

Perhaps I could change our story.
Perhaps I could change history.

This is what I think:
If people once learn to travel
in time, it´s not going to be
great deeds, guns, murders.
It´s going to be a girl
climbing into your bed
a silent single tear
running down her
worn out face.

SPIRAL GALAXY
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June 14, 2017
 

Longing.

Oh you.
A pipe dream,
A gentle fantasy.
A face behind the glass.
If I had been
your girlfriend,
I would have
checked your
English grammar
and you wouldn´t
sound like an idiot.
Oh you.

BLIZZARD
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June 7, 2017
 

Storms
ravaged
the skies,
I dreamt
of a doctor
who was
Matthew Mcconaughey
he smiled in that way
he often does
and slid his hand
into my mouth.
I bit him.
That was only
the first of
my strangely
disturbing dreams.

INK DROP
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May 23, 2017
 

A man came today
shook my hand
told me that he´s taking
my Cadillac.
I said,
hang on,
this is my
Cadillac.
It was very broken,
broken beyond repair
but
I´ve repaired it,
Worked on it
for hours and hours
devoted myself,
polished
its glove compartment,
its mirrors,
its hinges,
You can´t take it
You don´t have the keys.
Oh I do, he smiled.
He got into the car
touched its leather seats
very gently
and drove her away.
Left me there
hands shaking
feet collapsing
my Cadillac
purring seductively.

LOVE IT
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April 5, 2017
 

Sometimes
I wish
I could
stand in the middle of
a street
a meadow
a football pitch
a highway
and scream
and scream
at the top of my voice.

TEDDY RUXPIN
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March 31, 2017
 

A study session.

The room is bathed in sunlight
the breeze plays with the curtains lazily
dust floating in the air
outside, the trees are in bloom
inside, the textbooks are in bloom
with definitions, examples and exercises.
A tiny fan creates ripples in the air
a clause, a sentence, a phrase.
my classmate says
we will study but first
but first,
let´s watch this video
of a meerkat
look! a bleating sheep
look! an anteater
And listen to
these jokes
Isn´t this fun?
Aren´t you hungry?
The other classmate
says that we should go
for a walk
because the sun and all
and so we do
sneakers and tank tops
it feels like summer
and then it´s too late to study

FLY BY
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March 26, 2017
 

Sunday morning.

the wind blowing
the sun shining
with each gust of wind
the grass glitters
because something
glimmering is there
like a co
                 n f
                        e t t i
or silver sparkles.

A girl in a pink dress
jumps up and down as
a pair of boys kick a ball
until the ball jumps over
a very high wall
the wall is too high to climb
for two small boys and
a waltzing girl
so the game is over.

BELOW THE RIM
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March 19, 2017
 

You were my first-
You asked me to stay over
I declined.
You said all´s well.

You wanted to kiss me
I turned my head away
You said all´s well.

You fooled around
I was serious.
You said all´s well.

I cared a lot. I did.
I was afraid too.
You said all´s well
and left.
I was lost.

He was my second-
He asked me to stay over
I said-I said- yes.
Why the hell not.

He wanted to kiss me
I lay there unmoving
and he did so very gently.
Why the hell not.

He fooled around.
I did too.
Why the hell not.

I stare at my face
in the mirror
sometimes
and think of you.
All the things
you´ve trampled on.
And I wonder-
when did
I want to
became
why the hell not.

QUEEN ELIZABETH II
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March 19, 2017
 

In life
there are
perfect
moments
of harmony
and clarity,
like when I´m
pulling out
hairpins
from my hair
and at that
precise moment
the song goes:
"Hairpins start
to drop."
Or when I
jot down
notes
in class
and I write
a word just as
the teacher
says it.

IT'S SHOWTIME!
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February 27, 2017
 

A boy from Chile.

He wrote letters,
messy, fever dreams
about storms
colours
lightning
Beethoven´s
piano sonata
fact and fiction
stars at night
light pollution
places, where
it last rained
a hundred years ago
cold forests
blue lakes
flamingoes
and coincidences.

It was a mad flurry
a storm of words
fireworks of sentences.
It was as if she could hear
his Chilean heart beating
through the creased paper.

FIREWORKS
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January 20, 2017
 

She thought of the following:

Broken hearts
Distant pasts
Longing that lasts

Candles on birthday cakes
Skies reflected on surfaces of lakes
That sound which dishwasher makes

Because they were such pretty things.




DISCO TWIRL
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January 15, 2017
 

In disbelief
I stared
at all
the things you
s
     c  
a         t t    e
                           r       e   d
on the floor
like
paperclips,
my heart,
chocolate
wrappers
snowflakes
and
tiny
stars.

Funny
your room
was always
so neat.

WINTER'S BEAUTY
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August 2, 2016
 

My dearest,
Did you sit on your bed, frozen with pain?
Did you listen to that song, tears streaming down your face?
Did you stare blankly at the wall?
Did your heart get ripped in two pieces?
Did your hands shake when you saw me?
Did you write a letter that you never sent?
Did you stop listening to music that reminded you of me?
Did you see me that time at 2 AM?

And still
I see you
your crooked smile-
unreachable-
My dearest,
Did you bruise just a little?

BY THE RIVER PIEDRA I SAT DOWN & WEPT
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November 5, 2016
 

I remember
early in the morning
in December
(his mother is a
clairvoyante)
at 6.15 AM
the street lamps
alight still
we plodded
through the snow
for it was everywhere
up to our knees
and everything was still
and quiet
at least for a moment
(our cheeks pink
our fingers numb).
When we finally
reached school
we felt like
Amundsen or
Edmund Hillary.

There was no one there
just our PE teacher
who upon seeing us
smiled delightedly
(You came!)
we played volleyball
and the snow fell silently.

MOON PUNCH
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October 23, 2016
 

I saw
a girl
walking
d
   o
       w
          n
the stairs
which not many use
in the back of the building
it was 8 AM
her expression
pensive
sleepy
her pyjamas
baby blue.

There´s
something
sad about
a girl
leaving
a boy´s room
early in the
morning.

ELVIS PRESLEY
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October 14, 2016
 

There is
the warmth
of the fireplace
wood crackling
the kettle boiling
turns blue when you
turn it on
an old French
detective film
on television
tonight
the stars glittering
and I am a child
again.

ROARING FIRE
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September 17, 2016
 

7 PM
the quaint town
air is warm
but take a shawl
the smell of sausages
a group of people
gathered around a man
he tells a funny story
they laugh fondly
obligingly.
Lamps flicker in the distance
the cicadas
the quivering roses
They leave
the sky darkens.
A blonde
woman stands near
smokes a cigarette calmly
everything is quiet
except for a dog
who barks now
and
then
because
he is
a dog.

SUNDANCE
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August 4, 2016
 

There are
things
at my house
that vanish
every now
and then.
The first is
my old recipe
for carrot cake
and the second
is a CD
"The Best of
Frank Sinatra."
If I look for them
I can never find them
but then-
one day
they decide
to show up.
I know why they do it.
They want to stay special
by hiding
for certain periods
of time.

VINYL RECORD DAY
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August 4, 2016
 

You hit the pause button
on my heart
and though you´re far away
reading your books
writing your poetry
my heart
is caught
in December snow
your warm embrace
against the backdrop
of winter nights
and chocolate.


THE CLASSIC CRANKY
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July 21, 2016
 

I remember
the day
summer semester ended
in May.
I had an exam.
It was raining hard outside.
Meet us at the pub, you said.
That hidden, dingy little place.
I walked
clutching a red umbrella
the dark clouds
the puddles
the lush trees
swaying in the wind
spitting green leaves
everywhere.

It was hazy inside
from all the smoking
the rain pounded on the roof
someone turned on the heating
and suddenly
it was cosy, warm and inviting.
There were four of us
and and an old pack of cards.
I sat down next to you
drenched jeans
cold hands
hairpins slid from my hair
the chignon tumbled down
I wrapped myself in a scarf.

We talked
moved closer
(the smell of burning wood)
...

VONNEGUT
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June 12, 2016
 

There´s an
intoxicating smell
of flowers
a tree in bloom
someone frying
a zucchini
fresh laundry
two boys
sitting
drinking
from a can
they kick words around
like a ball
and
a curled cat
observing
the world
from a fourth floor
window.


MARTHA LUCIA
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