Ianuarie: Stelian Niță

Lack of tears


Convention between a devil and an angel

A joke on the one you should defend.

The angel turns a blind eye as the demon

Plants the horrors of broken toys on the floor

For the joke on the kid to be set

And as the childhood is taken away

The lack of tears on the one

silently asking to be protected

Make the soul of the angel crumble

And their absence pierce his being more than

Their expected presence ever could.


A few minutes of willing absence

And the angel is back to a shoulder

That’s too many years older.



Songs of death


Life seen through the death of being.

Life seen from that which is not anymore.

Man finds treasure. A song.

Death finds treasure. A man.


The song is a gathering of minutes.

Life made the song and you can sing till you die.

Death finds the songs. A song of life.

Death sees life. And sings you a song.

Death has discovered music thanks to you,

And you are now in a space where angels sing.


The exchange of gifts, a recognition

Of a creation that will forever last

In the vast library of the human life

Explored through that which is most close

to a song that you might never want to be finished

but that everyone is completing


Minutes of infinite is what you give

And an eternity of songs is what you get.


Rejoice and live your minutes.

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