Sun chokes the atmosphere

Sun chokes the atmosphere
Moon dies and takes
the truth and breath of you
Stars inscribe the sky
and determine
who’s alive…
What are your dreams?
Ask your heart
and put an old wish
to the slaughter.

Wild is the conspicuous green grass
that tells itself
to reach the stardust smell of spring.
Old is the key
that keeps away the chains
and charms unfathomed
to open a new gate
As you wear another’s
beating heart
melting in
and dripping of blue lust
Not knowing when
to destroy the dark
and say:
I am saving the meat
of my dreams for you!


Art by Konstantin Koborov.

She is primarily a teacher of English. Also her mind is lured by goodies like finance, economics, interest rates, the stock market, as she has a hankering for how the money is made. Nevertheless she is a dreamer on a cloud...As dreams cost nothing... In ordinary days she is a word-weaver for everything and everything that breathes. In the best of days she just follows the seasons by means of bike, skis, or roller-skates. She is grateful to all colors of the world and to people who read, smile and drop a line here, or on her email. Contributing author at Sudden Denouement Literary Collective,,, My Trending Stories and Anthology Volume I: Writings from the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective.

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Posted in Invisible stories, Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith
43 comments on “Sun chokes the atmosphere
  1. reemasandhu says:

    Beautiful wording 🌷

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Nandita says:

    As you wear another’s
    beating heart
    melting in
    and dripping of blue lust
    Not knowing when
    to destroy the dark
    and say:
    I am saving the meat
    of my dreams for you!

    I cannot tell you how much I love this. Gorgeous writing!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. This had so many mysteries to it.
    Splendid writing!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. grumpytyke says:

    As ever, I’ll read this again with more thought consideration before commenting, other than to say it’s beautiful! :-)) xxx

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Amazing and beautiful poetry!

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Typo?

    to open an new gate >> a new gate?

    Good, scorched stuff.

    Btw, I often make lots of typos and even whole word omissions and don’t recognize them ’till you and others look at my stuff! 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Iulia Halatz says:

      Yeah, typo, 🙂 and I did not see it until you told me. Shame on me!! 💜 I don’t know how this happened, I must be very tired, as I always check my work a hundredfold.
      Let’s blame my dual nature. One day I have got the eyes of a hawk, the other day, I am as blind as a bat. 🙂
      C’mon! 🙂 💜
      Thank you!

      Liked by 3 people

  7. I believe God has the power to put blinkers on us so we don’t see things. Happens to me all the time. Part of my “necessary mistake” theory. Then other things unfold from that.
    Just the way I see things. It makes mistakes more meaningful. 🙂 And Lord knows, I make a lot, no matter how many times I’ve read something over!

    Liked by 3 people

    • Iulia Halatz says:

      As always, you are very nice, dear Michael…
      I agree, when God put blinkers on my vision (inner and outer), when not even my inverted eye sees anything, I halt and ponder. And I look for my freedom (I brag about) and follow my heart and mind’s paths. Usually they lead to a corner of “city” wilderness where I can find it 🙂 and the beauty of the world enfolds as glee- spangled veil.
      Mistakes are always meaningful. Not necessarily because they teach something, but because they allow us to see the other side. 🙂 The flawless.
      Thank you! 💜

      Liked by 2 people

  8. Reblogged this on erichmichaels and commented:
    Lulia Halatz paint an impressionistic pictures with tones not yet named, in her Poem “Sun chokes the atmosphere”

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Kindra M. Austin says:

    Reblogged this on A Global Divergent Literary Collective and commented:
    Iulia Halatz

    Liked by 3 people

Your words are stardust, they shine and sparkle in my heart. Thank you!

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“Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.” -Iulia Halatz

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