Saturday, August 6
|Image by Irving Penn|
Hello, I said hello.
Through the microphone, i hear a voice resonate back,
A crunch between my toes like the bones of sparrows.
The cold numbness push on slips away as it's inside.
The heresy I believed in never could break down the back talk.
As you came like a piece of brack through, they call me a plague.
Why still it isn't hang up?
She on the other side with shotgun shells in her cheeks interviews my innocents.
i barely could follow the pulse.
the neighbour shouts, except the only abutting once.
the jumbling mess, no more i could stand up with the attitude.
saying goodbye, i disconnected.
i burned the town and the neighbour.
the silence just before i lit them up with gasoline,
was terrifying and fearsome.
and the darkness and the ash flooded sky that came after,
was as peaceful as lying nude on the pristine beaches of Navagio.
i could feel that gush inside me,
free from the strifes and preachy clamourous disturbed people.
hello, once again,
through the microphone, i hear a mushy voice...
Saturday, April 23
|Transparent faces by Mojo Wang|
High tides, low lights,
Staring at the cage,
That am going to spend rest, the life.
Blue ribbons and gift wrappers,
But nothing’s inside,
Box of empty rotten people.
I tried to live in between them.
All I could do, just pretend am happy.
With fake friendliness, I tried to look pleased.
I tried to look as if flying high.
And someone said “you are odd of the wall”.
I took his name in vain, may be his blood too.
I might have.
Am too expensive as am extravagant you can’t afford me!
I better be, me and my darker self,
Like a shade, an obscurity, a shadow.
Am on drugs, help me.
Like a nightmare they haunt me.
But still I have close my eyes to overcome the fear
In the depth of nights to pretend as if am the sleeping beau.
But whatever am an unpredictable swine.
Tuesday, April 12
People & portrait photography by Laura Visigalli
The pages are empty.
The story is incomplete.
I have my own
And yet to be written
I feel nude
And tempted to be with you
Or may be
Am being optimistic
To be able to
Enjoy your beauty
In the most darkest
Sense of fret self.
Am unknown to many
But you know my
And so are you... For me.
Everything would be written again
In black and white
Without an empty page.
Sunday, February 14
[Artwork by Sharon Rusch Shaver- Goodbye]
We have been too close for too long
The only difference between us was the heartbeats.
That led us split in two ways.
The chemistry which I felt was strong enough.
But then I realized we were in two different journeys in two different directions that were all about end.
Friday, January 29
I better fit with people to whom am something.
Something that has a raw meaning.
It’s difficult to understand people
But once you know them it’s smooth as silk, to live rest with them.
Am affected by vi-virus, that’s stuck in my head.
I can live with it without being overwhelmed.
I make sure every night the door is locked safe and sound,
So that you don’t burst forth in my skull.
You grew all over my body and psyche.
But your roots…
Am going to pull it off naked but it’s questionable.
Or maybe one day and that day is mine.
I see you be impaired and wrecked.
I won’t laugh at you to keep the difference between our souls.
Am erasing my memories, everything that I could remember being with you.
It isn’t a solution or clarification of what I really need.
All I need is that you never understand.
Thursday, January 28
Through the windows,
I could see the parallel tracks traveling with me.
Rusty brown tracks and pale pink sky made the evening.
To an unknown place,
That's never read in books.
I could see the scarecrows smiling at me with big wide bright eyes.
Cause am the little gypsy.
Am still a young kid with that vibe.
All I do is travel, travel through long days and cold nights.
There are a millions around me but non I know.
I kept my words to come back.
She would be waiting.
I have to walk till I find her.
Monday, January 11
[pic by theboytheory]
Walking over the pavements staring up in the sky like a daydreamer.
I walked all day long.
Am in search for ‘one’.
I couldn’t find it loyal.
So I left and walked on.
Over the pavements.
With a smile and all that I could give to a hobo was small change.
Not enough to buy a candy.
And that’s all am left with.
And I continued over the pavements.
This time alone and sweaty,
Under the sun,
Towards the shore.
To find a raft,
To cross the seas,
To find an isle.
And give birth to my smile on dope,
That which never was complete.
I will build my pathways.
With the missing pieces of my puzzled story that I hardly remember.
And walk over them.
Over the pavements.
The walk never ends till the Gypsy in me die of rheumatic.
And until I find my albatross.