Addiction is bad. We can make a difference together.

Have you ever been addicted to something or someone ?
Then you know what I mean. Is hard to stop it, and is hard not to loose.

If any of us would think, this is not about him or her, they would be wrong.

But maybe we have still friends, family, still ear to hear us .
There are people who lost everything. We see them on the street, sometimes
we give them a cup of tea, or a penny which they spend for stress relief :
tobacco, alcohol...that's an easy act as we are passing by.

However some of them are heading to talk to people, who don't give them money.

They give them back their dignity. They teach them how to cook, paint, trust again.

To give a penny is easy. However to remind someone his own dignity is hard job to do.

Let's support these people, who remain us of humanity.
Many small acts can save someone's life and dignity. Make a difference now.

https://www.justgiving.com/martina-danielova/

Sometimes the Sun

When the reality sunk into a dream
your name was written in the steam
and around were unknown crowds
smell of your body is smell of the clouds.

Someone cleaned the worms and clams
while I draw in the sand - diagrams
blessed in eternity
blessed in sanity

you're not that kind of love
crying on the tree
you smile before
I count to three

flying above the candle
like a guard of the flame
like a sun that comes the same
in eyes of chosen ones

you don't eat shadows...

I loved you first

They say"be careful what you wish for"

What have I whispered to the trees?
If not the sound of your name,
into the life of leaves, nest of bees,
back then I was the one to blame..

Thus I have regained dignity, grace,
your cycle ended in the woodland green,
old me you raised, with broken face
no longer exposed is to be seen.

Your old sins, knives, and scalp
-all is forgiven in this new land,
my mask was burned,
buried in the ground.

Black

Sometimes the time is timeless
and doesn't count the nights
sometimes beloved is loveless
and doesn't look for rights

sometimes the eye that's closed,
is concerned of everything exposed
sometimes bleeding is your neck,
the blood isn't red, but black..

From the dust and soil

I connect to myself
through the spiral of trust
running from my toes
towards to my third eye
this eye
can see and hear
when the sand makes a movement and let it resonate
in my left hemisphere

I love the mouth
that tells a story
I have been hidden too long
because my tongue was twisted
and my tongue was scared
to express the soul

therefore I am a music
I am moving the ground
painting crazy pictures
when nobody misses me
like the ground I came from
like the soil and dust
soon I will come from the sky,
gently love you,
my unborn child.

When will you get tired?

What has been there?
Out, in the sky? Highness possessed
by virtuosity!
Clear picture it's a deeper meaning,
where the soul penetrates into
the harmony...

What has been there?
Oh my sweet wisdom! How I praised
you, placed you on the pedestal,
just to end up by eating dust
and furthermore:

here one stands in his objection,
vision of forgiveness and the truth.
A woman that has chosen to stand
on the top of the hill and never fly !
Shame on those who hate themselves,
who cared when the survival mattered?

Thus sky was getting darker, the coat she wore purple,
and mind was getting wiser,
wiser and older,
grew apart of being just a human,
transcendent in his own being

in the light, even when is dark:

freedom is the will of my soul,
and my soul is the will of the God.

The highness

I locked the pain inside of the body,
to transcendent,
alternate in wisdom.

I filled the jar with suffering water,
that needs to be drunk with peace
of Socrates.

The walls are mirroring my face,
my twin, The Lion,
straightening my shoulders,
healing my own skin.

I put my skull into the vase, art deco
of an empty space
where my bed remains without a sin

so I'll stop by to say thank you God,
even there is nothing to be thankful for.