Where the heart follows by Igman Fermont

How many fingers- how many rocks
where: all the signs make their way 
and where death is barely an unopened step,
so don’t get caught under your feet.

Tomorrow the river will be Valentine 
as this air needs to breathe 
my parting lifetime.

Hold me.

Shall you cross with me?
Even when I’m alone, mostly 
when I’m meagerly alone than my own.

The printed night has come 
and gazed my hand, 
and with it, no clear road.

The soul
has hold the name twice,
meeting us, wide as a lighthouse.
Twining our moments as unwinding rivers,
in which I constantly kiss its land
to find your path.

There are no airports for the lonely hearts
only my breath 
that travels like a wave hitting the shore.
Tell me, Love, 
When will you have your feet soaked.

Hold me, hungry vestige of my life
I need you most when you are not around,

if my blood could speak
I would be dead without you-

to keep beating I’ve been looking
for the signs, 
in the erasing reflections
that mark your feet: 
the light that rails my way.

Underneath your bruised toes
I can hear the sun’s thought
and like the sand that always dips in the water
and like the water that always combs its land.
I will find my way, regardless of its weary length,
you, you, my sweet, only valentine.

Where the heart follows by Igman Fermont

Where have you gone Maresa by Igman Fermont

Soundtrack by Hazy - Eternal Space
     youtube.com/watch?v=0DbAc1XlpFM
     soundcloud.com/hazy_music/eternal-space


Just like a grandfather smiles to his grandson, 
your farewell, because you were yet, so young, 
and I would wish you were here.

Here, where death is never afraid to look at his waning shadow, 
and here, where the years grew as large as you speak, 
making this forum genuinely eternal, genuinely ours.

But you left and I never saw you age again,
Where did you go Marisa,
Why the fuck did you leave?
Where are your hands that you told me so much, 
of a doctor, of a frustrated singer, of an enjoyable girl 
that like the soaking of water, it spread in the mornings. 

Where are the hands that looked for clothes incessantly in the internet, 
looking for a great sale to escape the human madness. 

Where are those soft hands of handkerchief, 
that made tea like the swapping of dawn, 
the escaping crumbles of your mouth, 
in which the batter cookie dough fell 
in your delicate plums.

Those hands that made me smile, 
those hands that made you in this land, 
those hands that made my voice.

You said it saved lives, so where are they?

My sticker was ripped off my chest, 
and from the depths of the earth, 
this tremor wobbled me to death. 

And they could not save either of us, 
nothing can save the stuck linger of us. 
In the longest hour of despair, 
the shadow grew. 


Today we gave death not our remains, 
but our names.

( And what has come and forth 
is this orb of rain, torment, silence, laughter, 
freedom in the harden teeth, 
life spattering as a sprinkled air, 
the morning due, the morning come.
I can hear the rain constantly falldown;
as grizzled wings of goodbyes mark and 
inscribe my farthest sight.
In this submerging waves I can hear the rain fall; 
but it would be just more beautiful
to hear you speak, you... 
dear joy of my pouring rain. )

Where have you gone Maresa

Be with me by Igman Fermont

I do remember you.
You were like the whole happiness of life, 
in your simple noble things that you did.

And I do remember a world in which 
reflected on your mirror, it appeared on your profile, 
in the way, you gazed your eyes.

And maybe I am wishful thinking 
or you're really worth it.

Today I am missing time to time, to hear you speak,
so don't fade on me.

Because it's hard to count all the stars with only two hands,
and because calling you Love, is not the same feeling 
as holding you tight, for you are what I expected life 
in my arms, so come here.

Like the air that blows, is this love inside me...
Arrived like a dance, is your body
that made me follow you, like your shadow,
my best moves come from you,
so stay here.

And the caramel sky wrapped a moon,
but that doesn't matter to me.
And the clouds glided into a new bright twilight,
but that didn't matter to me.
And the birds timidly began to kiss in a drizzle,
but as always--  it didn’t matter to me.

What matters to me, is the time deep in your heart,
and gratefully I find myself there,
in your words: that make me happy,
...hear me love,  so I don't miss living 
and every bit of love, never leave me.