When I am going out of the New York’s subway
and especially in the summertime, through the Avenue H
by the Q train in Brooklyn, I hear the sounds of ocean.
Yet, I hear the sounds of ocean—the sounds of thoughts,
the sounds of wishes and expectations, the sounds of
noise and calmness, I hear the sounds of solitude.
I hear the sounds of darkness early in the morning
when I am alone, surrounded only by the sounds like
echoes of my own breathe and I am walking faster and
faster and singing, I love a melody like I love the morning,
the morning is a spirit of life for me and a melody is a spirit
of music itself, it is my own breathe while I am alive and
can feel the sounds of ocean, while something very familiar
is dawning deep within me every morning and then it is
disappearing again, while I remember my childhood and
the little beetle on my palm and the kite and valley, while
the premonition of joy is forcing me forward while I am alive,
listening to the melody of breathe and looking up to the sky’s
wide open silence, the same sky with the same kite from
my childhood, we are immortals while we are the children.
June 14, 2019
Let Me Be Your Summertime
Let me be your summertime.
The silence of solstice attracting me more
and more I clearly see—the summer is spirit
of our childhood, when we were immortals.
Let me breathe in the beauty of silence.
Let me be alone, twined by silence only.
The syntax of silence is so divine and so
simple and so clear and so lovely, yes
the silence speaks for itself… And look
all the answers to all the questions are
always in front of us. Some can see them
some cannot, that’s why we are not the
same, this seeing or blindness sets us apart.
June 9, 2019
I see the fireflies are rushing to meet the dawn,
I see the tears are rushing to meet the calmness,
the tears always are the words without letters,
and newborn baby always tells the truth without
any word right in mother’s heart, right in anyone’s
heart, like the rivers also are rushing to meet the sea,
the flood invades my spirit—
I see the tears are becoming the ambassadors of life,
I see the crystal clear ambassadors of future,
when the words are rushing to meet the silence—
the universe’s kiss on our thoughts.
June 18, 2019
Someone with the Endless Heart
I feel light inside me when I am
looking at you, my loneliness.
It’s good to give when asked,
but someone with the endless heart
gives unasked, through
understanding. Someone sees
our deeds, but someone with
the endless heart sees our motives,
when we lose the right to be
understood, we are losing the right
to be free, we are losing the right for living
with the endless heart, where every beat
is a challenge and challenges
make us discover things about our self
that we never knew. Let me be
that someone with the endless heart for you
and let me love your loneliness too.
May 18, 2019
The Dictionary of Silence
Looking at the summer’s smiling silent afternoon in
the garden of the breathing words I guess right away—
I have a key to any door in my life. This smile is the
key itself for me and I feel I know how to look and learn, the door
is here and the key is in my hand. The smile is telling me—
nobody here, nobody there, nobody under the sun can give me
either the key or the door to close or open, except myself.
This silent smile is expressive without any sound and I see now —
nobody ever figures out or tells me directly what life is all about,
and it’s OK, it doesn’t matter, nearly everything is interesting
if I go into it deep enough or fly so high above the
loneliness and will find the home for my speech.
May 14, 2019
David Dephy – The trilingual Georgian/American poet, novelist, essayist, performer, multimedia artist and painter. An active participant in the American and international poetry and artistic scenes, such as PEN World Voices, 92Y Poetry Center, Voices of Poetry, Long Island Poetry Listings, New York Public Library, Starr Bar Poetry Series, Columbia University – School of the Arts in the City of New York, Bowery Poetry Club which named him a Literature Luminary. His poetry has been published in USA and all over the world by the many literary magazines. He lives and works in New York City.
(Courtesy of the author)