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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=579696" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Thoughts and ideas - (Talking through my hat)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Break and husk<br>thoughts and ideas that, <br>without reason, <br>I smashing them like nuts<br>into my head – mortar with pig iron pestle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lay and hatch <br>thoughts and ideas, <br>and younglings, <br>instead of fly, <br>I keep them under latch<br>in my head – cage of neurons, <br>dendrites and axons.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Knead and raise<br>thoughts and ideas <br>but let me tempted, <br>and without reason, <br>instead of bake them, I play<br>“of thieves and bobbies”<br>with bullets of dough<br>shot from my head – automatic gun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pull kernels out of <br>thoughts and ideas<br>but I put not them to spring<br>and hundredfold harvest to bring, <br>I chain them necklace<br>that my poor mind<br>who walks nomad<br>through my head – ballad<br>to put it neck<br>in a night with moon<br>and than to catch<br>in a fairies dance<br>and hungry of blue<br>to soar in the stars.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">***</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thoughts and ideas<br>are shrieking through my mind<br>as lost migratory birds<br>in an autumn of rains.<br>Thoughts and ideas<br>- arrow-shaped cranes with wet wings -<br>fall all at once<br>in my head – moorland<br>of thistle and mud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bevies of ideas <br>and useless thoughts<br>surround my mind<br>how ravens give wheel<br>carrions to be<br>through my head - waste land<br>by boiling and winds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thoughts and ideas<br>go round<br>like a pack of wolves<br>with empty bellies<br>through my head – winter of frost, <br>winter of sleet<br>with my mind <br>thoroughly frozen<br>by fright and a biting wind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pick<br>bunches of thoughts and ideas<br>caressed by the sun of mind<br>in bacchanal vineyards<br>planted on encephalic hills.<br>I squish them <br>and expect to get wine<br>and get drunk<br>in my head – tavern where the smoke<br>knife just cut it<br>and air is sourbitter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fog of thoughts and ideas<br>rises from my mind<br>as darkness on swamps<br>in late autumn.<br>Nothing to see<br>not hear anything <br>all still is, <br>just the small brain<br>flickers in my head – gray curtain<br>between movement and inertia.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Slacked thoughts and ideas<br>are resting on benches of mind, <br>nothing pulling them<br>with hands and teeth, <br>I can’t them gather <br>at work to bring<br>to get something good<br>from my head – chaos<br>where it lacks a poleax<br>and a stump of elm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Viorel+Petru+Trifan">Viorel Petru Trifan</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=579696" data-title="Thoughts and ideas - (Talking through my hat) de Viorel Petru Trifan" data-description="Break and husk
thoughts and ideas that, 
without reason, 
I smashing them like nuts
into my head – mortar with pig iron pestle.

Lay and hatch 
thoughts and ideas, 
and younglings, 
instead of fly, 
I keep them under latch
in my head – cage of..."></div>
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