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"Celtic Legend" is my first collection with poetry, which has been inspired by the common historical roots between the ancient Bulgarians and the ancient Celts, which could be studied more closely in an ethnographic,  mythological and generic aspects. Visiting the first known Celtic town in the world - Hallstadt, Austria, I got an idea of a journey connecting the past and the present and am making a lyrical invitation for the reader to follow me. Free Download: Celtic Legend Celebrating romantic poetry, “Thomas Kent” captures the reader with its sincerity and is an exciting experience for those who admire traditional poetry forms. The combination of poetry, fine art and theater forms is the core of this art-book, which is dedicated to the great artist, the late Freddie Mercury. Free Download: Thomas Kent - An Art-Book This book is a result of joint activities of people all across Europe who engaged themselves in its preparation, according to their own field of

Summer Son

S wimming in those blue depths of your eyes, I got drowned in my U nreason. M idsummer lies will pour within the season my reminiscences of M y loves before, and my timeless, unaffected treason. E xtinguishing my fire dare a few. Hushing me to silence with my R oar can only one. I feel with every pore, the  devastating wave has reached the S hore where I was counting both sunsets and seashells. It’s too late for me to be adored right there O n these sands by this N ew spell… Like I perished from your hand.

The Devil’s Kiss

T hen why you say things that ain’t true in between this H issing silence? Your glance speaks volumes, piercing through my E ssence. Now I need your violence: D eny me, die me and then dine with me in a portrait E veryday. Then delude me, and delight me while V ipers serve me as your prey. I ’ll be lying on your table naked, and tattooed, and sweet, L ying to your eyes, whose color I long, and yearn, and strife to feed. S ensual and way too selfish, my hand will pass on you the K nife. Sliced and tasty, defragmented, my soul beseeches you its life. I will kiss you, you will kiss me, and the venom of your cold S ilence and your proud indifference, will rise me to the heights of howls, screaming loud that I S urrender.

Short Circuit

S haring fantasies in public H as me O ften so exposed. By now I R eally must have learnt it: T he consequences come C lose when I contemplate too much your male’s R ationale, and the C irciut goes and hits again a meaningless debate on the U niversal truth that I reside in my own hell while the purgatory somewhere in T he touch of your hand dwells.

In Solitude Your War Is Won

I ntoxicated and then burnt there within N apalm of passion, S ole riders waiting for their turn, expecting O rders from the Chief in question, named L ove, who gives Her two thumbs up I n this shameful masquerade T ill massacre of flesh and blood U nveils who’s predator and prey: D ie within the chains of lust! Die E ccentrically, my sweet! Y ou’re meant to suffer, then to curse your O pportunistic suites, an assembly of U nisexes, R esting peacefully beneath, while you W ait, and yearn, and A che for a R eal-time news feed. I s there an escape for your fragmented S oul and for your W andering bones? O h, you beg, you cry, you’re sorry?! N ow comes the end of the story:      In solitude your war is won!

Tribute To Heine

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten, Daß ich so traurig bin, Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten, Das kommt Mir nicht aus dem Sinn.   Heinrich Heine “I don’t know what this is, And why I am so sad. A fairy-tale amidst Ol’ days I can’t forget.” The maiden of the river Cursed her vicious fate, In golden locks and singing, In waves that bathe the bay. I often contemplate these Verses of “Good-bye”: Each woman’s sweet regrets Meet one day Lorelei!

The Sail Of Color White

T here by the lighthouse embraced by the mist, H eaving up eastward is the pride of your ship, E ntagled, the seagrass will tell you the myths of a S ailer who solely conquers the deep A reas of your thoughts, daring your navy. The I les and the rocks to beware: she’s a L ady. O f advantage deprived and of a F ortunate star, she navigates C rests, exploring your heart O ver and over without a compass. L eaving her fate on the lines of your past, O mitting maps and R ules too obscure, she happily W recks in your arms and securely H eaves the vessel upwards the ninth wave. I rresistable passion makes her so brave T hat it is frightened when she turns to your core and E motively finds her promised shore.