January 01, 2012

Maybe tomorrow!

Let's insist on love
It's lonely and quiet here
Yet let's dream of love
The way you smile thinking of us
As I walk with my hands in my pockets
Thinking maybe tomorrow....

Posted by Idinraha at 04:01 PM | Comments (0)

December 27, 2011

Digging for time

I see the shadow of a man in the distance
Fogged in grey black muffled light, part hidden by
The tree branches, part by a moonless night
It grows clear tall brown black grey figure
Wrapped in his task moving the earth
Digging a whole in deliberate sways
Digg, grab, hold, sway...throw away
Gathering soil and dust
In a pile...and again

I get close enough
To recognize the face
The forehead, the nose, the eye, the stubble covered face
The breath hurling from the nostrils ,decipating in dark
He recognizing my stand comes to halt
"digging for time....we have been at it for long"
he labors saying it loud.

Posted by Idinraha at 10:29 PM | Comments (0)

Plowing ahead

I tell myself if I could reach the knob the door would be a passage
Yet there is more involved , should the door stay open or the
The velocity of the force I used to open it should reverse it back to
A close.....

And if I stop here at the threshold of the door and succumb to the doubts
Of the passage and all that stays behind and all the unexpected I would
Come to realize.....is this a beginning or an end.....

I tell myself if I should pass the door with no memory of all is left behind
Just the possibilities of the unexpected and unseen would I be better for it
Would not living with fogs of memories and traces of experiences
Bring a clarity in my perception


Posted by Idinraha at 09:56 PM | Comments (1)

November 28, 2011

The Fire Burns

The waves have settled.... The wind subsided ... I need to step out, outside my head....... Do not need to observe my life , just need to live it with instinct..........It seems the sun would leave the parlor, the curtain will come down and
darkness soothes my senses... it allows me to float with my eyes closed...... float within and fall ....

I feel whole again.... The sutures are getting covered by new skin... fresh and pink... the jagged edges are melding and the the cavities are covered by protean fibers......... The bones have healed though there is a phantom pain that sometimes flows through my bones and paralyzes me , waking me up or bringing me down to my knees..... I could take these little pills for pain to go away and She says if I take them regularly they never come back.....somewhere they get barricaded and left to decimate.....

I have left the room........ I sleep somewhere else and the situation seems so temporary, however I know I would never go back.....In my youth I vehemently avoided branding things as MINE.... it always was the car I use....the house I live in..... never mine.... I barely had claimed me , .........and then it was the yellowed skin......the poison and Coma...... and yet all the reasoning, all the logic,,,,, were not enough.... I put up a good defense and argued my case...........She would not hear of it......

And this burden of years , the crown of normalcy...... This accumulation of alphabets and numbers....the necessity of sunrises and sunsets, all of this, the reluctant son.... the cruel father , paternal yet blind to the sensibility of strangers and anything beyond the green Book of salvation.... oh he could not see ... and if he saw he would not recognize..................

Yes it pains me to be carrying so many faces, so many destinies.....the blind maze, the odor of growing fungus, the green smell of growth... and the blue colds of limits,... this circus... ... batches of eggs, the fertile genitals that survive cohabitation of ordinary and mundane..... this generation following the last in a blind maze....... There is not any individuality in living or death.....

Yet another sunrise and the life that awakens...............folowing the crowd at arms length......... the fire burns............

Posted by Idinraha at 04:12 PM | Comments (1)

November 11, 2011

There's a symphony in my head

There's symphony in my head...the notes, the rhythms, the pitch....I close my eyes and I hear the music.... I close my eyes and I am transported....taken.....such a short distance between living and death.....It is like turning a switch, On...Off , .......as Steve Jobs said.....On.., Off

There is a scene in the movie -Apocalypse Now, where Marlon Brando fills the screen with his shaved head down so you do not see his face and you see his hands coming up as the camera pulls back -Horror, Horror, you hear him whisper while holding his head, there is a flash back to the ceremonial sacrifice of a Bull .....and as the machete cuts the head, and the blood pours.... you see Martin Sheen coming behind Mr Brando coming to complete his mission

You can not tell me that at that moment the death is not welcomed by Mr Brando, it is.......as it was in the--The Last Tango in Paris , the saddest movie I have ever seen.......even at the most erotic points... there is desperation and sadness in the awkward way he pushes himself onto her........again the sadness of the main character is so overwhelming that he is pushing his lover, cajoling her, daring her to kill him........... Mr Brando, a master of subtle movements does not say much however every time he graces the screen the noise is maddening.

Are you involved in your life ? are you living it.....or you are a spectator watching over it....how do you know if you close your eyes, where you are and where you are going..... life is spent is seconds, minutes and hours, days, weeks and months,......yet it runs away so fast if you become conscious of it.....Life should be a distraction......or maybe a series of distractions...like jumping from one column to another ....beware not to catch yourself while you are midair...do not think when airborne ....you do and you fall..

I came across my life the other day walking down Fifth Ave in the crowd, I stopped him and asked him where has he been, where is he going and how, just how could he be so away from me. He smiled, brought his mouth close to my ear......"You have been dreaming my boy....catch the wind ,find me, before I sip out, slip away" . then he pushed me and ran ....

Does the station master ever go away and ........ the ship Captain who lives between two worlds ever know where his home is and ever miss being there...... Bus Stops, Train Station crowds and empties..... the Airports are quiet at midnight..... The birds are migrating south and the salmons braving the currents swim up the river..... Is there an instinct for living and dying...........and can we accept death as an extension or its only a switch...ON...off

There's a symphony in my head... The light opens the stage...The characters walk in and the music come sweet and soothing as the violins play... the men in colorful coats and pants the ladies in beautiful gowns, bare shoulders, necklaces, and golden chains...Up dos and hair done to there...the scent of perfumes fill the air........music pitches higher the flues and cellos, the keyboards and bells chime in.....the characters in colorful coats find the ones in beautiful gowns, bare shoulders.....they dance.....the spectators are mesmerised and then the lights go off.

Posted by Idinraha at 04:18 PM | Comments (2)

October 29, 2011

The business of dying

This floor is tilted, hold on to the walls, the lights go on and off, there is a worm in the system, it is infected and we might
crash.......... are we on schedule, what day is it..... we lost the track of time.... Time....I can never understand time...there is an open season on comprehension of time..... we are wasting it.... trying to grasp how far or how close we are....... Let's stay with the facts, lets stay with what we know, the clarity of seeing objects, good lighting and the necessity of repetition,.... the closeness , the intimacy of familiar, like.. life ...ah.. THAT IS ANOTHER ONE, no, lets just stay with Life in relation to Death.....

We could focus on entrance and exit... yes, however entrance could be only birth and Exit points at death. So the symbols change, how about life....in correlation to birth and Death...... we could call it the stay.... I mean staying within the parameters of Birth and death... inside the equation...within .....am I clear? !

You better get used to my morbid subject...... my father is dying and I need to get my head around it and the only way I can do that is by spelling the whole subject to myself here..... So you could go away... however I need to stay here and I need to know how to reason an understanding.for myself.

Well he has been distant.... no, he has been put.... Since the day my son was born...yes exactly on that day....I left him
not physically ....inside my head he was past and my son was the future and my duty was to go on... I cut most of the arteries, the ones that had survived our relationship....... through out the years... the anger and the frustration, the walls that we built together as we lost the sight of each other...... the man that he was... the son that I wanted to be....the hand that stretched and held for a while and then slipped away.

I was four or five when in the crowd of the Bazaar I lost him.........he found me picked me up and held me while I cried..and I remember the exact moment after the birth of my son when he lost me..... I did cry ..I could not explain why here I was moving on......he was staying.... I had his grandson's hand in mine and we walked away.....The rest was shorter stays...... quiet hellos and missed goodbyes...... across the telephone wire, the awkward silences.... I guess we were both new to this..........................................

There is finality to death. and life though persistent, is so very fragile.......Yes we will go through all the routines..... as properly as possible...... and we get to share our sorrow as private as it is......we are the social animal.... we smile we cry and grieve ...we accept and we object and yet we go on

Posted by Idinraha at 04:29 PM | Comments (1)

October 19, 2011

Where is it ?

I looked in all the draws, in the bedroom......the closets , even the kitchen....
where could it be........ I know it is late and it is dark in here but hey I need
to find it.... No, No .. do not turn the light, just leave me... It could be down
stairs or up and yes..I have lived here long and I know every inch of this house.
right there at the bottom of the stairs is where we stood as my son ran aeound
the house and came back asking if he could do it again...... ... No there was
a wall there ... we took it away for a large dinning room we wanted......... yes
we put hardwood floor everywhere and there by the door is where my daughter
stood at sweet age of five and declared she is going away since our was was
ugly (with all the constructions)! she would stay with her grandmother until the
the house was pretty again. And there, there in the family room our ritual was
to take big white plain papers and bring out all the crayons, glues, glitters and
draw free form, all of us for hours, laying down on our bellies side by side drawing,
putting the colors together, mixing them with the glitter and glue and then proudly
displayed them afterward. Da ddy, Daddy,,, I am artistic like you ... mydaughter
would say with a smile on her face.

Posted by Idinraha at 03:54 PM | Comments (0)

Dr Gabriel.........


Hospitals are so sterile......White walls .... hallways.. the smell of infections sour .... the quiet presence of death walking in the corridors.....leaving cold vapor hanging in the air......

He is scared .....his head bent , bones ache... he jerks his head to the side and finds a way to look up.....his pupils lifeless, no motion, looking at you......through an empty window... no recognition.....his head falls back.

Season of loss...... the horsemen are coming dressed in blacks of Apocalypse yielding their swords........I let the drape down.... light is cruel and there should be a moment for us to withdraw......... I here the elevator stops and the bell rings
he is crawling on the floor .......finding his way to the open door. and the vinyl corridor that goes forever in successions of florescent lights.....he is willing toward the elevator and I am thinking would he manage to push the button....

I took a picture of his ventilator, his feeding tube........ as the liquid dark beige moved up within ......I took a picture of all
the tubes and lights.....shiny red numbers going on and off......he was attached and breathing, his eyes closed . mouth gaped open face bones tortured deformed,,,,,, splayed on the bed motionless... I walk toward him, once next to him I rubbed my fingers against his bearded chin............

I think the machines took some of him, warm as he was ........ he has been debriefed and declassified....... ..........and I still wonder would he know which button to push once he crawled in the elevator.......

Posted by Idinraha at 03:19 PM | Comments (0)

September 01, 2011

I will take it all

I will take it all, on a gray morning, where sun eludes the day and curents cold
and bare blow amongst the trees naked of their barks browned dark, on a day
not clear I come amongst the living, bleeding death.

I come with my fangs cutting through the flesh boned fingers sharp as blades,
my eyes hollowed in their sockets , sunken fiery red, mischief on my mind, horror
in my head, I come to take with my critters smalll and large my crows black and
loud, vultures - prophets of pestilence, hyinas crazed by the scent of rotting flesh, my
possies, my peers, souls lost between purgatory and hell

...........................................

Continue reading "I will take it all"

Posted by Idinraha at 04:52 PM | Comments (3)

August 20, 2011

The moment

I set the flower pot
where the rays of sun
had warmed the floor
As the kettle steamed on the stove

Nothing like afternoon tea
to clear ones head , soothing.
I found my papers, yet no
appetite to write...........

The water boiled
while the flower found the shade
the moment passed, yet I
held the pen, digging further

Posted by Idinraha at 03:58 PM | Comments (0)