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LITTERAE
Multilingual literary magazine

Marius Budu  

Born September 17, 1982 in Timisoara, Romania
Since childhood I have had the constant need to explore and learn. Immigrating to Canada changed everything for me. I gained a different understanding of the world… This distorted image of reality propelled me into a rich madness of thoughts and images, which I needed to express. Because of this, I developed a need for poetry and artwork. It often feels like I have no control over what I am about to create, and I let myself be guided by something beyond me. My poetry and art have become as natural and necessary to me as breathing.

Teardrop 

Levitating among the ruins of ancient Babylons,
Mentally studying the bones of fearful memories
Unraveling the moments that my essence overlooked
Traveling down deep fluctuating passages of light,

I unfold myself into being…

Transversely pondering the question of still time
Searching for meanings of that one hateful crime
These paradoxal instances become sublime
And all this flesh surrounding me, it isn’t mine.

So I let myself fall…

Running down the Universe’s cheek, I flow
Amalgamating my essence with that of its mind
Procuring fractals of this great divine
I search for the one tangible truth beyond my kind

And I fall deeper into the deafening sound

Nails gnawing at my tranquil stream
Sharp, blistering flashes of what could be,
The maze expands, evolving as I start to collapse
Becoming numb to the omniscient avail inside me.

Beyond me, lies only eternity.

Within me is the shameful dread of the impending end
The final moment just before the fall devours hope
This trance, preserving my lucidity, prevails.
The red trails on my face grow darker

And it appears…

The irrevocable consequence of dreams
My one last tear is shed alone
As I slowly intertwine the past with the end
My one last breath has long been spent.