Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Oh no, not again...

I had a bad déja-vu the other day. I already knew this happened before or at least recognized the feeling. I started to wonder if it had to do with the situation. Right then I realized it was the same thing, or almost exactly. I mean understanding a déja-vu can be even more overwhelming than experiencing it, though it's hard to explain.
The other thing was with the two books I've been reading
for a few weeks now. Though they're about completely different things, as for the stories, the essence - practically writing itself - is the same. And it came out so sharply, almost demanding, in the parts where I got to recently, in both books, it was a shock.
There was also a part in one of the books which I prefer now, where the hero - who's actually a poet - sees his main character in a mirror. Then later he reads about what if such a character would see the writer... My déja-vu felt a bit like that.
 
 

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Public transportation #10 Bus stop musings #4 Automatic

This memory stayed with me from the still very hot October days. Maybe it only took me being late so I caught a new bus on my daily route. It had buttons to open the doors unlike the old ones running there. I didn't notice it, though, but learned it, and learned it well. This is the story how it happened. 
When I saw that there were a lot of people getting on through the door I was standing by, rushed over to the other one. Which by then closed, so ran back to the first one which also closed in front of me.
Then I gestured and shouted towards the front, hoping the driver would notice it. He did and opened the door. I got up, and mumbled something about this, while still listening to music with earphones. The driver wouldn't start though, and I mumbled some more about not getting to work on time. Then a passanger next to me gestured to make me unplug my mp3 player. He said the driver only wanted me to know I only had to push the button on the door to open it. I said great but he also didn't need to let them close on my face.
That was the big mistake, as then both the driver and this passanger started to tell me the doors close automatically, so we have to hurry to get on, or push the button again. The passanger added "comprende?" Guess, because my dark hair was held back and I wore black sunglasses. All that and my inability to comprehend what they've been trying to tell me could easily make him mistaken me for a foreigner.
I have to admit I did feel foreign, specially when he added I'd accused the driver with something he didn't do... I said alright, go on then with it, but I rather put back my earplugs and keep on listening to music instead, comprende? Next day another driver with the same kind of bus kept the doors open for minutes after all the passengers waiting in the stop got on, right until it left. And so it was the following day and every day ever since. Never seen the same driver again though.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Public transportation #9 Underground #5 Tickets please

The whole day started in bit of an aggressive way. For instance when I tried to take the escalator down to the underground train it was slightly impossible to get through the 5-10 ticket inspectors surrounding a group of 5 (potential) passangers right at the top of the escalator (their usual place).
We used to have those bars that would open once you validated your ticket,
and you could go through, for decades. But when democracy hit our country they had to go. Another false illusion of freedom, I might add here.
So now, even if you have a valid monthly ticket, you might still not catch your train just because the poor ticket controllers have to do their work. And they wouldn't ask those they have problems with to step aside. Or maybe those wouldn't move. Maybe they're right about it.
The only thing I ask is let me use my frigging ticket, and get to work on time once I left home in time. On a second thought, probably that's what those people asked, too.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Public transportation #8 Tram stop musing

One night seen two guys hanging from the back of the tram going the other way. I didn't have time to fish out my mobile and take a pic of them. Mostly because I got so astonished, and stood there just staring, half smiling. What surprised me even more, I guess, was that I didn't see anyone else even looking at them when I looked around to see the others' reaction. It's a bit like you don't see people much staring up into the skies anymore, either...

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Public transportation #7 Underground #4 (sh)it happens

One day last week tried my luck to sit down on a crowded train when someone stood up. Unfortunately as I was leaning against the door (not the sliding one) I managed to get my bag strap caught by the handle. So by the time I freed myself, though it didn't take more than a few seconds, the seat was taken. Then I hurried, or rather pushed my way, over to another place that had just got empty, and took it. At the very same moment a strong, sour, unpleasant smell made me about to throw up. Next to me where someone had also just left, was an assful of puddle... something of a yellowish brown color. I was about to get up again, but someone suddenly sat there, and covered out the smell, too. Then it was too late to warn.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Public transportation #6 Bus stop musings #3 Sunshine

Saw a young guy playing heavy guitar riffs while waiting for the bus. Only he didn't have a guitar with him. I was listening to the album Afrocubism. Somehow his expressive motions fit to that music, too. Then he sat in front of me on the bus. And without hearing what he did, we all had a great time sheerly by seeing how much he enjoyed it. Even the sun came out from behind the clouds. Honest.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

In the backyard (of my mind)

Cock's crying out for hiding sun
Birds answering in all tunes and tones
Cock sounds now like a horse neighing

I felt too tired on the bus last night
As that teenage boy behind me
(As if) by chance stroked my shoulder

Too tired to turn back, just side glanced
Too weary to send him to hell
And tell the girl behind him

My opinion on her directly loud comment
If he tested me whether I was gay
Yes, little darling, I am

history's repeating...?

I remember my first boyfriend with whom we had more of a Platonic relationship, but we enjoyed each others company just the more. He told me once his parents sent him to a shrink, and also for some treatments to make him get rid of his homosexuality. This seems to be a follow-up to the story about the war and the heartless experiments done so well planned during it, and shockingly about a country that's called the land of justice and democracy where a court case can be based on a poem which is about a man being free, and where they can legally torture people only for loving people of the same sex...

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Public transportation #5 Underground #3 Stereotypes, archetypes revisited

Yesterday on the underground train saw a woman I knew seemed very familiar for some reason. Then as if to help me, she grimaced in a way that nearly made me burst out into laughter. She was almost the spitting image of Eddy in AbFab. Even the way she dressed and so many little details. Of course then it was rather difficult to take my eyes off from her, and especially when she was standing with her back to the doors that opened and so could hardly avoid falling out. I know it's not nice to laugh at that, but since my memories of someone reminding me of her so much, I couldn't help see it as a funny thing. That's how the mind works.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Public transportation #4 Underground #2 Alie-nation

Everyone seems strange to everyone else - especially for the first glance - and it's totally natural, I think. It might seem worse in a big city where you have to face a lot of people you've never met before, and also stay close to them for a while, when using public transportation, for instance.
I remember at college our psychology teacher picked us randomly, and there was a different "flash" situation he'd put us in suddenly. When he called my name, he asked me to stand up, and came up to me not too fast but with steady steps, looking right into my eyes all the time. I kept eye contact with him constantly with a little smile on my face. And even when he couldn't get closer, except by touching me, I was standing there smiling at him. I can still remember a vaguely but definitely disappointed look on his face...
Up to this very day, I feel helpless seeing people to suffer from others "invading" their private zone, which can be clearly noticed on their faces. Some even add a little extra to make sure you can see it. And sadly I remember a time from not so long ago, when even here in the capital city, people used to have a chat with "complete strangers" while queuing, or taking a bus ride and getting close to each other - not just physically. Small talk, it was only, though it did worth a lot, and made it much easier - to feel human... aren't we?

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Listening Silence

Hope you're alright when you go all silent
Just waiting for your answer with no smile and
Soothing myself telling you simply don't have a thing
To say to me right now, still you leave me thinking
If only you'd be here now, so that I could be sure
That everything was just fine, and nothing wrong occurred

Public transportation #3 Bus stop musings #2

Saturday night on my way home from the weekend shift saw an elderly lady coming up to the bus stop and it seemed, at least to me, that she was sneaking up to the other end of it. I sent a glance over there a bit later to see her draining a little bottle that definitely looked like those cheap alcoholic beverages. She was dressed like an average person, and yes it was quite cold, so a little sip would help to feel warmer. Still what I saw put a shocked or at least surprised expression on my face. And then I got quite sad, thinking of what might made her feel like curing her feelings, and the problems that caused those feelings, by drinking. Then the feeling ceased somewhat on the bus when she sat in front of me, and I could relax from the aroma that she exhaled...

Sunday, October 7, 2012

living in a monkey cage

To understand this story better you should know I live in a big block of concrete flats, two locked corridors going to the side from the elevators on each floor. Lately it's been even more entertaining than usual since they've started to "thermo-insulate" the house, so we have the workers on the scaffolding, looking right into our rooms, and can hear them cursing, and shout things like "your very gay friend" or "I'll turn your face up and fart right into your nose" and so on, and so on...
That can be solved, at least it worked for me, with the, as they call it "fight evil with evil" method. I had today off work, so stayed home in a rather rainy and cold weather, and wanted to have lunch sitting down peacefully, for a change. However they were here today, too, and went on shouting bad-mouthed, and giving me the impression, that also somewhat on the expense of the work they were to do. So once when I had enough of such comments aired wide and loud, as mentioned above, I just opened the window wide and asked loud enough to make them hear "Do you think that me saying such things like 'your cocksucking friend' would make you stop, or I have to push you off the scaffold?" Then it became silent for the rest of the day...
However one evening when I got home from work, found a note on the corridor door saying we should keep that entrance and the window at the other end closed for the duration of the works, ad today someone tried to break in to their flat during the day... Well, we tried to keep the window closed, though some people living in the same corridor used to open it anyhow. Well, the old woman living next to the entrance used to open that door and make it stay like that with the lever, as we could see her doing so now and then. And she wouldn't get it in her head somehow, whenever we asked her not to, that it just gives way to burglars. Well, the funny thing was that one day, soon after that neighbor put up the note, this old woman was sitting next to the corridor window on a chair she'd brought there, and her hubby stood next to her. For our surprised question what happened, they said she felt very bad. Now, for that we really didn't feel like commenting. Whether she felt so bad because that neighbor had put there the note, or because it made her realize something, stayed uncleared.

By The River

I was down by the river again
just sitting there, watching the gulls
listening to fragments of conversations
first thinking about this and that
then, realizing without a single word
there was nothing to think about, never
it would make no sense, on the waves
glittering with the sunshine
surfing with the birds
 

a solar cell
washed with wind
alongside the water
grown to the ground
an element
a sensor
a consciousness
existence

Public transportation #2 Underground #1 A fast date

Couldn't tell how but this morning had this flashback about a fast date that never became anything more. I was still living in the country and agreed on the phone with a guy to meet here in the capital city to see if we want to meet more, since I was to travel here for some other business anyhow.


I had a funny feeling about why we should meet in an underground station, but I was young an innocent. I was there before time, and found a seat next to the exit. Then the train arrived, everyone got off and I was left alone at the station. So I thought he'd arrive with the next one. Suddenly someone who'd just passed by, came back and told me 'come on, this is getting embarrassing'. I was completely stunned, but then realized he was my date... Even if I was young and naive, I was the same person as now, so that's why nothing came out of this date.
Back then things seemed simpler. Maybe because I didn't know much. Now life's less difficult with all the experiences, but that doesn't make things simpler...

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Public transportation #1 At the bus stop

Saw an elderly woman with snow white hair smoking in the bus stop where we've been having 'Smoking forbidden' signs for a few years. She looked a bit like Patsy in Ab Fab, and was obviously enjoying herself, though it was not her who was smiling. I was, and she dropped the unfinished fag, as I passed her, and left the bus stop in a sec. Don't know if it was me smiling like that at her 'passion crime' that made her do so, or she just felt like what she wanted to do was done. Anyway she made me smile for a long while.

The Lake

The lake spread olive in the trees,
all silent, and all alive, and all alone
A bay rather with stones at its door,
where the big river enters and leaves

Some frogs singing their tunes in threes,
while all living things turn green like melon
And as my foot goes another step forth,
a dragonfly appears from among the leaves

Sun at the waving water spreading its light,
inticing with the promise of warm fire
A moment as you turn on the pear,
as if it will have happened to appear

Sunday, September 2, 2012

my diary

It's been a time of looking back and around. For something new, something different. And while searching for a very old copy of a little book that contains some tales of the 1001 Arabian Nights, instead I found a diary I started to write seven years ago. At the first page there is a poem I added a year later. It goes like this.

You are my diary
I'm writing every day
You are my memory
recalling all I say
On my own
I'm nobody, you see
All this time alone
I am all but free
(October 2, 2006)

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

the Almighty's eyes

This has long been overdue, and I've been wondering what to add to make it complete since it's impossible. So, this is just a moment of it all, and we can come back to it any time. To this moment or any other.

I saw an elderly woman with snow white hair smoking in the bus stop where we've been having 'Smoking forbidden' signs for a few years. She looked a bit like Patsy in Ab Fab, and was obviously enjoying herself, though it was not her who was smiling. I was and she dropped the unfinished fag, as I passed her, and left the bus stop in a sec. Don't know if it was me smiling like that at her 'passion crime' that made her do so, or she just felt like what she wanted to do was done. Anyway she made me smile for a long while.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

the Sandman

This I've told my best friend (a Norwegian guy), and he said he was quite sure it was so in his friendly cynical way, and that I might earn a lot with this story, suppose I'd find the right publisher. Well, this doesn't matter - apart from the fact that it means he can tolerate me this much -, but it is important to me like it's been a big help any time before whenever I was reading about the Dreamlord and his family. Now and then I thought it was easier to read these comic books than other books, and that was the reason why I read them again and again. But reconsidering it, it was easier to take life as it came, in their reflection.

So, I have just finished reading the Sandman comic series again, much of it still on my mind. And one day soon afterwards, while we were playing yatzi (a Norwegian name for dice poker game) with my Mom, I turned on the radio, and they were talking about the Sandman, and that the next folk song would be about him, played by a Norwegian band.
Then the next day when getting a bit bored by a long book, I switched back to a Norwegian short story that was left unread from a collection I'd started before. And there you go, one of the two main characters, who was going mad, mentioned the Sandman by different names (Norwegian, Danish, and German) as he couldn't fall asleep, and wished so much he finally was able to.
Then one night soon I couldn't fall asleep and when I finally was halfway toward it, it suddenly came to me that the big white face with empty eyes like an ancient Roman statue that I'd seen as a child, and which was covering the door of my bedroom, after I woke from a nightmare where evil witches were trying to destroy me, could easily be the face of Dream himself. As it was not evil in any case - I can still recall this -, but more like staring at me or more like through me or maybe into me, with his great big wondering eyes, and still standing there like a protection filling the gap of the entrance, and not going away even after I'd closed and opened my eyes several times, and my Mom was already sitting by my side trying to console me.

And so I recall all the dreams and daydreams whether about future plans or simply wondering through possibilities and wishes. I remember Death, too, calling in one night when I was still not ten or maybe just reached that age, and I couldn't handle her message, or the other way around, I knew very well the meaning of it, but simply couldn't grasp the infinity or maybe the inevitable and final, unchangeable state it was about. I got so frightened that she left the same instance. Also the many times spent with the Lady Delirium who always helps to forget about the cruelty of this world, or doesn't she? And those heart-throbbing and heart-breaking moments when sweet Desire made me wish and then wish again that I'd never done so. Just like the several visits I received from Despair; sometimes she'd stay for months or even years, it seems, and all the inexplicable things she made me do. What would I be without them, how could I survive and accept all the things in life? It's an endless story, the very same way as they are endless. So they never leave us alone just like we need them all the time.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

the end of civilization

On the train the guy sitting next to me said to his friend 'or when they were burning books...' and was thinking a few seconds while I - already feeling a bit sorry for not going on with my book that I was still reading on the underground train - felt an urge to help him out, and suggest Fahrenheit 451. However his friend said the Inquisition, and I thought, yes that was one of the many examples indeed.
Then the guy finished his sentence 'When they're burning books that's the end of civilization'. And I thought 'Look around, this is the end of it all, you can read as many books as you want, it's much closer to total control over your mind and what you're wishing for, because now they can influence you better than any time before to want what they want you to want. Instead of wishing for something you can choose free, and dream it for yourself by yourself. This is when it becomes a quasi-civilization with the fakest ever freedom you can think about.'

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

the free folks

I love to stand in the bus stop at night when my shift ends at ten, and feel the cool air and smell the different trees and bushes. There's a few of them around. Such a relief after having been withered all day long in the office, and trying to keep alive with the aid of fans and air-conditioning but turning them off again and again as they're not the real thing anyhow.
And when I'm waiting out there in the night I can understand why we started to fill up the darkness with funny creatures of our fantasy. One of these days or nights I thought I saw something strange walking there in between the trees. But it was only a couple looking for a place to pee or something else to do. And they didn't sound anything strange, just like people can sound... So in a way I see why some of us prefer to see different creatures instead.
But then in a few minutes I saw a shooting star crossing the velvet sky, and I felt glad again. It's more like a flash on the retina, or like a memory. It's happened and gone before you could realize it. And some say stars are distant and cold. Well, I say they can twinkle to make darkness less dull and they fall for you even if you don't wish.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

and the devil may be here

Just like I don't think it does any good when people see all the shit on telly mixed together - action, comedy, horror etc. - and the commercials (well that's good for those who sell things), the same way I don't feel like working as a telephony agent does much good when you have to sound the same under all circumstances, and keep "professional" (I don't believe those who use this word too often would know what they're really talking about). It makes me, at least, feel kind of l had my holiday this year, I was paid my monthly salary so I could pay my bills, I had my days off this week, and I had my coffee in the morning. But if I'd have a bigger health issue again when it would take another few years of treatments and operations, I just don't think I'd be up for all the experimenting once more. Then I'd rather be gone for good... for better or worse haha. Or maybe it's just all the traveling to and back from work when I have way too much time, and only my own company.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

a caricature

It's a funny thing, how dreams work, how your mind works. I was just thinking about this the other day. How much I love to sleep right because I can dream then. And I must admit I love my dreams to bits and pieces. Even if they're nightmares. After all it doesn't mean they become less interesting. Maybe on the contrary.
Dreams are also like a good meal or movie. You need to collect all the necessary ingredients before you get the full taste or picture. Now I'm also reading the Sandman comic books again about the Dreamlord and his adventures. That might help with the mixing of the ingredients. At least I'm sure it does influence me. Especially so, as there was a lot about a nightmare there, the Corinthian.
I visited the Leprosy Museum in Bergen about a month ago. And I was quite certain when I saw those illustrations about the patients that they would cause me nightmares. Seems like it took some time. It was only last night that there was a familiar voice in my dream, that came from a completely distorted face. It was all but a roughly scaled bulb with a hole in the middle of it for a mouth.
The funniest thing of all was that the person this voice belonged to, posted some photos on facebook about an exhibition that opened last night. I knew about the opening, but had no idea at all that this person would be there. I wasn't even thinking about her for a very very long time. So it was just as much a shock to wake from that nightmare and to recall her voice coming from that horrible thing, as to see the photos today...
I mean she was the missing link I didn't even know about. Then suddenly she was there in my dream, and so turned up in reality. I mean she's not even a friend of mine on facebook, but one of the artist's whose exhibition opened yesterday. And there are so many people in that company I know both of them from.
Why exactly her? And how come she turned up in my dream right now before I saw her photos? So peculiar.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Through your kitchen window

In the backyard I saw a grey cat prying, well-fed and healthy fur
He seemed like sinking in the lawn while trying to fade and blur
Then I discovered what he was hypnotizing, a magpie above his head
The cat took but one further step toward it, and playfully the bird fled

Monday, April 30, 2012

Del, it's okay

I haven't thought about it like that, that it only takes getting used to it. Of course, that's the way it can only go in many cases when everything else is out of your reach. Then you just have to accept what's given. Though you might feel itchy and maybe bitchy about it, but then time helps you to get over it.
Still, this condition got even the condition self worn. As she put it "You don't want my name. Trust me. You really don't. Sometimes I don't want my name. And I'm sort of used to it by now." And how much time it took for Delirium to get accustomed to not being Delight anymore? How much can it hurt to make you feel you're not hurt anymore?
Then you can't think anymore. Or maybe you just don't want to. Don't want to think or remember. Because it doesn't help. Also, you feel free to feel okay then. You can have some moments of fun. Oblivious, yet being yourself more than ever before. This might not free you completely, but can make you believe it momentarily.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

the Almighty's mouth

Which is best? Doing your job as good as you can, behaving yourself, and being friendly, so you show an example, a way for those around you. Assuming this way they can be happy or feel good. Or just being and letting them be. Maybe reading their optional futures in the cards, the tea leaves, whatever. Or pursuing to convince them one way or another to follow someone else's example. By giving them an example through your own life that's supposed to reflect for instance, God's life when He walked this Earth.
These are different ways which also leaves you feeling differently when you don't seem to succeed. When your colleagues, neighbors, family members or the people whom you believed to be your friends let you down. Even when you've tried to give them your best, doesn't matter based on what conviction. Maybe you did so simply because you saw they had a troubled time, and wanted to cheer them up. But you can't always succeed. Yet you can always try.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

the Almighty's ear

Some days ago while hitting the tube my good old paranoia hit back suddenly. It's an overwhelming feeling that others can read my mind. Not because they care and are interested, but maybe for the simple reason that all of our minds are in common use. So in a way it would be the same how those creatures in the Bodysnatchers movie communicated. However in our case there could be some truth in this, after all we're all connected with each other somehow, and also with the Creator of all things. And just thinking about how He might feel hearing our thoughts all the time... Now that was a rather saddening and sobering revelation.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

jitters

When you're told something will happen, but no time
does it mean then that it will happen in no time?
And when you can't help feeling that you have no time,
just watch a movie and note I'm changing the title :o)

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Je repars à zéro

Long long years can pass
before you turn back to something
Then you reach for a compass
made of your own memories


("je m'en fous" pour le chien)

Friday, April 6, 2012

Useless fixes

What's good of all the patches
the ones that let the stains come through,
Can long delayed meetings turn back time
will they make us feel the same way, too

Everyone's so indifferent
all do all the time seem so sour,
The sky above is brilliant
and it won't pretend it's ours

It contemplates what we've done
and stays there when we're long gone

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Thank God, it's overdue!

Could it be that questioning things which wouldn't make you feel that life makes sense is actually about you realizing that you're missing love in your life? Yes, it could. It's about all the useless facts like dinosaurs which couldn't make you happy anyhow or help a tiny little bit when you're craving certainty, and want to feel that it's not only a small life so manic, but something more and longer lasting (even longer than the dinosaurs, that is).

Sunday, March 11, 2012

punch a higher floor

Some nights ago I had these wild dreams... again, of me traveling in a strangely disfunctioning elevator... or for all I know (after having watched the HHGTTG again) it was working alright. Anyhow it was taking me apparently too high, and too fast, and back and forth and sideways. In other words it was out of control, as you would say it under normal circumstances. And even my Modern Book on Dreams said it was all about sexuality. I wonder if Prince talks about it in that song of his. It wouldn't be so very unlikely of him to do so, but... even Let's Go Crazy sounds to be about life. So if I take his advice and take a look around, I do have to admit - my dream was definitely about life. And it looks a lot like it can go out of control even more... which doesn't mean much good. But then again what's good, what's bad, and of course, at least you got friends.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

momentarily

life should be at its best
so let just rest the rest
it's always now and here
else you'll give in to fear

Sunday, February 26, 2012

true love

when love grows deep enough
even if shattered it works in the depths
washing away all that's useless
and using it for that which matters

Saturday, February 25, 2012

A.I.

it's frightening to see that we can only scream
even in business to customers we need
just like small children or drunkards in the streets
as if we expect the softwares that we feed
to communicate for us just to pay a fee
so we feel that we stay behind technology
but how could it be us; there's no such trickery

condition of the heart

it's a delicate thing, the heart
you can't buy it by the pound
it might just fail you
when you feel you

can't take it anymore
when you'd give up 'cause it hurts to have a soul
only you need to realize
no-one but you'll take care of that what's yours

i wish my heart would crack so big
that the whole wide world would fit in it
then nothing would hurt anymore
'cause i couldn't ask for nothing more

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Can you fight your nightmares?

It might have happened because I'm reading the Sandman series again, and last night I got to that part where the one who thought himself to be the true Sandman tried to fight the real one. Anyhow, in my dream I was left on my own by my otherwise kind hosts in the TV room and the lights went off... and as far as I can remember there was either something rather fearful appearing on the screen when I realized I was alone, or it was in my mind which is basically all the same under the circumstances. What was a relief even while I was still going on dreaming, was that I could hover upwards (no, I don't remember flying but it's an unmistakable clue). Then as if arriving from some kind of floating over the house - or what seemed to be an overview like a 3D plan of it - I found myself in the top room. Maybe it was not even a room, but the top of a bunk bed. Looking down from there it felt so safe and easy to see the big picture. I guess that says it all about how I feel.

Monday, February 13, 2012

essential

we're all in that bowl
we're blood, piss and heart
all of us on the inside
no matter how we look like

and there's a mistery
that's not in that bowl
it's not in the parts
it's in each and every heart

Sunday, February 12, 2012

I wish

I wish I was writer who sees what's yet unseen
whenever I can feel my patience wearing thin
I wish I had a heartbeat that never comes to rest
suppose that all we have would turn out for the best
I shed my tears so horrified by people's indifference
who ignored a blood-covered man standing amongst them
I still cannot help the immigrants in the streets of your city
unless your love will overcome your fear of responsibility

Saturday, February 4, 2012

the winter of our discontent

when we can't rejoice as the long awaited snow arrives
and our love is but a complete stranger
then our hearts turn frozen to make us act cold as ice
and our words get lost in this aged world

Friday, February 3, 2012

nature girl

I met a girl who traveled all over the world
she even wrote a book about all of that
the journey of a soul,
A genuine smile
with magic power
and full of life
she wore

Then years later my path crossed again with hers
her hair turned from ghastly orange to silver gray
but her smile remained,
For she stayed young
both to the eye
and deep inside
in her very heart

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

maybe it's 'cause we're all gonna die

a friend couldn't understand my fascination with the occult
another one asked if I was not scared to watch horror movies
my answer to both of them was that it could have been the result
of me trying to escape from the terrors of reality

i had so many nightmares, a lot of frightening visions, did i
yet none was as dreadful as the sheer thought that occurred to me
one night when i woke up as a teenager and knew that i would die
and there was nothing in this world that i could do about it

Monday, January 30, 2012

developing

is it developing to find a new life
while still running after the old one
and to meet someone on the route at night
just to say goodbye to your old love

you are developing a life that you've missed
because you just didn't see the chance
so you know it was the last time you kissed
while exchanging a final glance

Sunday, January 29, 2012

changelings

They stand motionless like changelings in a cricket field,
I find it difficult to walk between them without fear.
Not only their clothes are dark but their minds and their mood,
and even when they move they seem to be made of wood.
Any colors in appearance or in behavior they might take as offence,
and a whole party of them claims this to be their protence...