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Thursday, January 29, 2015

confessions of a tired mind

My dear Hansel
I don't know where you are, I thought we were in this together, I thought they abandoned us together, left us here to get lost together ...I thought we got tempted together and ate our way to the cannibal witch's house together...
I thought once I got trapped you'd help me think my way out of this. you were always the more sensible one. But I wound up here disillusioned by our grim fable that we'd go through what we'd go through holding hands...I'm all by myself dear, and all I see are dizzying rays of darkness and tree trunks..tree trunks all around me...and leaves that crunch under my feet and shadows. not a light in sight and i'm scared shitless dear... of more darkness and more tree trunks and branches like spider webs not letting me pass...I want to sleep in the arms of a giant bear and let him carry me up the mountain to his cave where there's a bonfire and baby bears. I want to speak a language no one understands and hear a language i don't speak. I want to wake up and not know where I am or how I got there.
 My dear Hansel I'm exhausted and can't think of a way out of here. Maybe I'll let her feed me, maybe i'll fatten up for her, maybe I'll let her eat me...

Saturday, January 03, 2015

The wolf cry

This mid morning, early afternoon , fresh out of the shower , i layed on the bed and cried. It was a mid morning/ early afternoon kinda cry , the ones that don't hit you , for whatever reason earlier in the day, on days you've started with barely   enough strength and optimism that it washes off after your shower... It was a wolf cry, the kinds i howl in like a wolf, the ones that carry a sadness so deep-rooted and so out of thin air... A sadness carried through a past life. It was a you-held-my-head-in-your-hands cry... The ones that don't annoy you ... It was a naked cry cause you cant  resist a naked woman with wet hair and wet eyes ... It was a please make -it -stop , make -what -stop? Cry ... You get what kind i'm talking about ... It was a do-i -have- to -face -today? Cry , the kinds that go away the same way they came ...the kinds you walk out of like leaving a storm behind, with puffy eyes and temporary relief 

Monday, December 29, 2014

Guess where i am? An upside down window, painted in all tones of light gray, tips of trees , tree tops as if they were standing on their toes, forcing themselves into the frame, trying to peak in? No they are too far away to see anything, they are  trying to be seen ...by an inside out woman.. God may be feeding on my neck, i've zoomed in on tree tops and the infinit gray trying to guess my thoughts, trying to locate myself in time and space.
"If you're happy in a dream Ammu , does that count?" 

Monday, December 22, 2014

bang

when I say bang, roll over and die. do it for me, won't you. when I say bang, roll over and play dead, and I'll give you a treat in return, it won't hurt i promise, i'll just point my play gun at you and shoot.

when you say bang, I roll over and die, I do it for you, so you can gloat in front of others. when you point your play gun at me and shoot, it doesn't hurt, nor does it when I roll over or die. it hurts most when you give me the treat after. I suddenly see what I'd do for it, what I've succumbed to.

That gun's always a part of your hand, while you hold the bag of treats with the other. you can fold three of your fingers and keep the other two pointed at me anytime you desire. such is your power.
but me, you see, I can't live without the treats.


Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Before you knew me ( rediscovered from 2009)

Before you knew me, of me, about my existence, I was young and carefree, pedaling through cobblestone streets with Melis biking ahead, holding out her arm to point to via Castell Maraldo. Before you couldn’t tell me apart in a crowd of a million, I was juggling work and school and love and loss and lived with someone so close to me she could smell my gloom. That was before you showered through on a day the forecast insisted on sunny skies, many days after I left Paris as a millionaire… with only seven Euros and twenty three cents in my pocket. That someone so close had already left my side and it would rain and rain and wash her fingerprints off of our furniture, and the blind refused to walk with canes and would bump into and bruise each other. That was then, before we were remotely acquainted, that I found happiness on a land I couldn’t understand and wasn’t understood. Where angelic faces running free in the hospital ward would advertize abortion on television and the old would get their well-deserved respect. And then I come home looking for home all over, oblivious to the numberless warm days ahead … and then one day, you happen, as if to open the door on a stormy day and forget to close it behind you…as if to prep me for surgery and then leave me exposed on the table. Insignificantly enough day after day after day, like an apple worm, you make your way to the seed. And now all I…and you don’t even …. anymore.  

Monday, November 17, 2014

Deers and icicles

On top of the mountain she sits across from me, on a half moss half snow covered rock overusing couple of tissues she has in her lap, sniffling ... I stand there quietly, our distance , the trail ..and trust her with her sorrow.. Here's a woman with a broken heart ( as they say in that movie "broken into a thousand pieces" ) and today she's promised me deers and her big secret...but it's not my place to step any closer into where she's drowning
just minutes before we broke the thin ice on the lake together and i gasped over its majesty
people find people like her difficult to communicate with, difficult to approach... I enjoy the hours that can go by between us fully unspoken
That she can rock back and forth in pain and i can be just around the corner admiring icicles until she's ready to go on... Because that's sometimes all it takes .. To have you on the side of things, aware of my tears without panicking, without trying to glue anything back.. Just quietly aware .. Once this girl i love told me after her boy broke her heart she'd go to the mountain everyday, with a friend who'd sit a little ways up to watch over her while she'd feel what she'd feel for hours on end and would be ready to leave. So that day on that mountain covered in ice and snow i was finding the common thread between the human heart and those beautiful icicles and searching for a deer who wouldn't come out in fear of me and the likes of me... In fear of being hunted . she told me even if you saw one , don't ever get close, they panick and attack , or in the rush of getting away from you they might actually crash into you ... And i kept thinking in despair that all i want to do is to love the dear deer a little ways closer