The Rythmic Dances May 21, 2008

Watching You dancing slow at the rhythmic blues of the breeze,

Going insane at the beat of the wind

Naked, shining all your wits under the sun

Showing it all proudly to me..

Shamelessly, careless about perseverance

And all its submissive children

Free and madly in love

I run towards You..climb into your arms

Look up for your enormously erotic branch

Entering me up… I dig it all in, spin it around..

We would dance..about life

At the beat of pleasure crowns

Envious disastrous and destructive empires

Chaotically troubled

A dance of all elements

We burn our desires alive

Inhaling all spells of burnt

witches and wizards

embracing their yells

revenging the suppression

our hair flees away of the head

spitting out melodies of imprisoned men

calling for freedom

enslaved generations in cages

 

I would be named after some mean witch

Once lived

And You would be the invader of the thrown..

I don’t know May 14, 2008

“I don’t know”  … such a beautiful expression..

humble and clear, warming and friendly…

appeasing the mind soothing the wounds..

the sight of the blind it is..

with its shining strays burn..

so I have to put on my sunglasses forbearing it..

dragging me to be a nomad..

I never want to be satisfied in laying every night in the same bed,

But keeps moving on..in places,

Never one pillow to lean upon,

But a bird posing for an instant on the ground,

Picking up straws from here and there

Building its nest, hatching eggs and..

Leaving it up to be destroyed by nature,

With gratitude,

Carried by wind to other lands for other purposes,

Some of the straws worn out, as corpses dried out,

To be dissolved.. thus reused ..

All are significant deeds.. attitudes..

Manners ..thrown into the ocean of life

With no regrets..

For life, death is always there..

Awaiting to nourish it..as we nourish each others..

 

“God bless You”, “thank You”

Uttered words unconsciously..yet meaning deeply

The essence of existing .. is needing each others..

 

“I don’t know” is just a naked adventure..willing

To wonder around..everytime a “knowledge-man”

About “the truth”  proclaims..

 

 

Mich

In her bed May 14, 2008

In her bed, loneliness appreared as a genuine thought, a desire of him..manipulating her mind, playing hide and seek .
Strings of passion streaming from the mind into her body islands and bays.. provoking uncontrollable hurricanes.
Endless filaments.. fragrances of his desperate hunger for her love,
memories of their last unity,
blackmailing her everytime she uses reason and rational thinking as weapons to end up her yearning..testing her sanity..
syllables of his name enjoying strip dance.. a very primitive dance..throws all calculations and revives mysticism..

In this bed.. where she has been spending nightmares of unachievable goals..thrown all in social bins..
faded visions and their deseases..
illusions and fantasies of him spreading roses all over her bed sheets..

In her mine where she explored every curable precious stone of her ..she hid the most valuable carefully from sight, her secret love from the other glittering diamonds, in dark stones..
She knew..ironically that the secret of the universe hides in the blackness that surrounds the shining stars, this darkness, is what reflects, thus evaluates all their beauty.. whereas people were attracted to stars, the magnetism of the black hole pulled her hypnotically towards him.. this black hole is only him..that gravity has been always towards him..
Resisting seems useless..it lasted for decays..built up slowly like old shells meant to protect their host..but he came along, and with a single stroke.. it was all broke..
her flesh surrenders to his overwhelmed mind….
His hair helps him to caress all the pain he sees by his eyes..in her eyes..

In her bed, she is depending on his axis .. dividing her chordes..bounded to his multiple images and their reflections upon her.. She worshiped that axis of his..with all its power that aroused her to ectasy..
In her bed, she dreamt and yelled and yearned.. with all her witchy powers she could drag his soul to hers.. Join them into flesh and breaks all rules, all theories and dogmas..
No science could explain it, no religion could sustain it..their union has broken it all.. and digged hollows .. new paths to the unconsciousness.. But it was all real now.. as God created flesh out of a thought.. she managed easily herself to create her love scene..in the obscene..
Her hands were pushing his body with determination..to hers.. They were actually making love..it was not at all a dream but all real..

Blessed are the shining stars..but the joy of their sight is momentary..
Blessed are the headlines that emphasize legendary stories..but they are still words..
Blessed are the memories who fill up the blank between the lines..

The moment speaks of itself now.. as a narrator, a witness and a main character..I always fainted at the ectasy gate.. thus loose it all in …. moments……..and hand it all willingly..to authors who recreate..glories and legends.. to humanity..in need of hopes and dreams..
Of “HIM” and “HER” and the immortality in their love.

It’s okay to feel okay May 2, 2008

I was repeating myself this morning like every morning. Convincing myself that I was okay.. before I discovered the game I play on myself..before I break the rules and admit that NO..it is not okay.. I was only clicking and pushing that button again, squeezing that nonsense “OK” to fit in my mood forcefully..thrusting it through my overcrowded stimulus.. When, all of a sudden appears the anguish on my door, well dressed with an empty smile to be noticed and recognized. It was prominent among all the rest of the feelings, yet denied brutally by myself and expelled further to a deserted anonymous island.

At his sight, I begged for help, with a rising high-pitched voiceless sounds..You were at work, all of You were busy carrying out their daily journals and affairs.. In my intentions not to be an annoying intruder into the world of conflicts You all already live in, I had to strangle tighter and tighter my screams.. banishing my mind’s vibrational echoes..for fear of wavy therapies I had before with You.. I didn’t want to answer Your call, lie again that I’m “OK”..

I looked into the horizon for a sign of divine holy help from above …or underneath..any superior or inferior power would do..but in vain..

I had to endure the long hours, for my children’s return..as it’s my only rescue..and mock of myself, for my failure of being a sincere mother to them..for needing them this time to hold my head upon their laughter, and kiss my forehead as a conciliate gesture. I have the urge to be my children’s child as I am already my mother’s mom.

At the moment, Chaos seems to be my severe governor of my swinging moods..

How coward I can be!  Being a habitant somewhere ,going around the house in constant repetitive cycles never daring to stare at my gloomy hazy bedroom.. the lights are dim and misty. I couldn’t confront that glance where I sleep every night next to my demon..

 

Abuse is just another word.. How can there be a crime with only a criminal and no victim..for the victim has disappeared, vanished, evaporated and not a singular proof it existed..

 

Violent rape is always smoother than a peaceful quiet one.. when someone needs to empty sorrow and resentful agony..to combat with bombastic acts and the receiver is absent .. rape becomes incest.. for the rapist is only raping emptiness of an imaginative victim, another member of his family. The senses flew somewhere else, bounced into the ether released into silence.. murmuring few illegible prayers.. for those are just few moments of miraculous extermination of the whole scene.. I’m so grateful for..

I’m glad I fly to many virgin islands..in such embarrassed hateful moments..

“Excuse my impertinence”.. He applied..

 

I press the button again.. I need to prepare for lunch..I need to complete the role of a devoted mother..no time to be a child again looking for my children’s arms at the absence of my mom’s..

I’ve done it all..all the assigned tasks will be soon over.. it’s…..been always OK to feel OK..

May 2, 2008

I’m always afraid to describe “the man”.. How can someone describe the sky, knowing it exists but it’s illegible to our own sight!
Knowledge seems sometimes a breaking through the mystery..it could kill our fiction outlooks and destroys hopes we need to survive..
Men are the stalks of women..
I need to be blinded by their deeds..
to be blurred by their imperfections.. and dwelt upon their impurities..
Time has not yet come..for me..to know it ALL..
So I carry on overloaded with excitement of fairytales and love stories..
As the Earth needs the sky, I need You.
To be another sheep in a herd.. I surrender..
To their greed..
Keep on intriguing my soul.. I will deny your filthy endeavors..
I will remain ambiguous ..always adopting your lubricant minds..
There is still time ahead..time to wither and shrink..
Put on You face creams dear woman.. Put on your masks..
You still have enough time to play the game..

With all my love To Yara.. 24/4/2008

Healing of broken wings May 1, 2008

Healing of broken wings..

 

By grabbing someone’s hand forcefully thrusting it into my dreams..

Life seems too awkward for me to live it lonely..

Never believing in solipsism nor hermitage..

 

 men are eager to flee

drowsy of dreadful habits they cannot conceal..

Landscape and green yards lay ahead of them,

But no one dares to clutch a handful of desire..

 

Too indulged in mediocrity of laws and rules.. in forms of implied lies..

Pits of  dreams are to be neglected and thus thrown into the garbage of the mind..

To be forgotten and rotten..

 

Eagles aren’t able to fly gracefully as heights reveal

folded intentions on the ground..

all wrapped in dispersed illusionary images.

 

Men and women use satire out of fear..as a seldom shields..

They inhale reality by uninterrupted  streams..

On lands of unfolded pleas flaunting at notice..

 

Loosing their offspring on laces of agony and despair..

Children inherit unmerciful chains..heavy burdens on their milky shoulders

Custody of imposed screams.. awakens compassion of a  nightmare not yet

Puzzled by storytelling of fortresses, treasures in caves.. children assemble to pray..

For discovering virgin islands..in their mind they consent and play..

 

Hallucination is symptomatic to another delusional wrecked world

Organized in beauty institutions and marked in blurring  frames..

Distinction is out of the way..

Politicians distribute crutches in charity..

during the gloomy days..

 

solicits are encouraged as distractions of the minds..

 addictions to human kind..abstract sex to be fantasized ..

video games temptations..welcome to the virtual world..

seductions of fanciful goods to enslave people into caves of greed

yet suffer from an increasingly demands

.. long days and insomnia nights..

rushing hours into jolted pavements..

squeezing human souls into traffic jams..

 

spread your wings O’ fresh souls.. fiction and fairytales are not meant to be told

but to be withhold..

and to be proceeded with steady endeavours..

reach out and clutch a handful of dreams..

pick up flowers and throw their seeds..

to be resurrected as your dreams.

 

I’m not lonely anymore..I’m not a solipsist..nor a hermit..

I show and tell..that’s all..

Hello world! May 1, 2008

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