I’m counting seconds as I watch myself counting seconds… I know it will take time, but I’m enjoying every single instant of it…
There are fires that need to be put out first, once the blinding heat turns into a calming cool breeze, the clock will strike thirteen, and two minds will unite into a pen, as two hearts unite into a shining bright sheet of recycled paper, and there, history will be recreated, and a new surreal story of fives and squirrel wings will be sketchpadded… <3
Waiting for my time to come, to depart from a burning hell to another. on wings of sand i fly into the hazy skies, and down to a doomed, demolished ground..
I sit here and wait, and watch the beauty of the unknown heading in every direction, but it’s only a glimpse, ends in an instant, and gives way, back to the horror show of the mobile human corpses; all I see is errors, all I see is mis-creations, and the only perfect soul I see is the one of the corpse I hate, the one of the corpse I know, the one of corpse I own… the one of the corpse I am…
Once, God was here… he looked around, took a long breath, and left for no return…
Where are you my black Raven… This colourless, lifeless, shadeless Hawk with a dead wing is standing here, in this merciless desert… waiting………
Is he but a parasite; depleting what’s left of a thin cloud of hot polluted air around his head, inhaling the lost souls hovering their way to nothingness…
Don’t you think it’s time you come back and finish what you started? Wasn’t it clear enough that this hawk has no wings but yours? Either come back to him, and give him back his wings; your wings, so he could fly again… Or come back to him, and take back his heart; your heart, the one you forgot not to give, while you knew you were not allowed to…
Once, God was here… he looked around, recognised my face… and then he laughed… he knew I was stupid enough to believe him… but he was kind enough to leave… and he left for no return…
Now you see me… Now you don’t… Just take them eyes and leave…
verses born in my head are vaporised on the spot… the poem is dead before it sees the light, while the poet himself is put to sleep, crystallized for later use…
February 25th 2008
verses are no longer born in this infertile mind, the poem is long since dead, and the light itself has faded since the loss of its source… guardians of the sleeping poet are gone for good, for now he’s forever doomed to sleep, forever doomed to freeze in this lifeless desert… until a new ray of a new day of a new Sun breaks through the glass of the stasis cell, and brings the light back to the eyes of The Blind…
4 years and 13 more days to sleep… Wake me up when it’s over…
January the 8th, 2009… the time is 22:42… we’re having a nice glass of wine in a pretty cold night at the Churchill’s Bar, Dubai … the English (or Aussie) couple ** I’ll get their names later :p ** playing some good ol’ Rock & Blues…
And then, here it comes… Pink Floyd, Comfortably Numb…
It’s quite strange how 10-second-dreams can leave such an effect on us, such an instant, deep impact, much more than that of what “real life” events leave on us, no matter how long, exciting or action-packed they seem to be…
It is this seconds-long flash, that goes through your mind in a daydream, that brings back memories, and gives you the chance to re-live moments you thought are long forgotten; it recreates whole scenes, and brings in all those, whom are missed, then gives you the sign to enjoy this short lived reality you were dying for…
Dragonwhales are dizzy… Fire flies where no one have ate before… Oh Holy Svveetness…
As Earl Grey leaves leave their lovely distinct footprint in your Cortex, you try to fight the headache; mercilessly attacking your frontal lobe. Tea is getting colder, and so is your blood, your headache is still the same, only now you can see with a bit less blurriness, you finish this sentence, then add a period.
And now you go one line down, comma, another comma, and yet another comma. and a full stop.
You only miss the days when your brain used to function, something is different now, your language is still “degrading” in the matter of vocabulary and the quality of your composition, a thing that you must’ve noticed clearly in this very post.
but then, you still have no other choice… maybe this is the only way you force your brain to forget… the only way to kill that 24 years old headache, or at least prevent it from getting stronger…
But then again, you still have no idea… you’ll never do… as long as I keep on erasing the lines…
Hello all 🙂 so, I have 1 month left before graduation day, so I’m really busy with my final project… Blogspot.com has been blocked locally, so… fortunately I found a place which’s even better!!! moving my stuff to WordPress.com… yep, seems I’m gonna have a lot to do here… currently this is gonna be my homepage for another while, at least I can create some real pages here, maybe have some space for my small Art Gallery… anyway, for now… Happy New YEAR!!!! H.Q.
