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November 30, 2005
You bore me
you bore me, and that I can't forgive. you are not beautiful, and you are not aging gracefully. But I can put up with all that, I dim the light, I look else where, but if you bore me, there is no remedy in me for that. I will fly away. I have to be rude, there is no other option, you are carrying so much on your little frame, and would not allow yourself a let. You are too constricted, too careful, you walk slower now and you think ahead, getting yourself ready for what comes next, and in a way you deprive yourself of a certain joy, fears, emotions, you are dead. yes, I regret to inform you, you are dead. you exist, barely, vegetating, by instinct, but your footsteps do not leave any traces and your hands are colder than death.
Happiness, well, that eluding joy, when everything stays in a passive motion, and you are free within your unconscious mind, free. Living is habit forming, ropes extend, you pull and they come, and at some point they release you to yourself, or at least that's what they tell you. you are physically free. But wait a minute, there are ghosts in the Machine, the parasites have stained the nucleus, you are predisposed, you have learned, you have been thought, there are names you know, memories, such overrated dreams. you will not forget, as the silken moist ropes, thin as they are, weeding within you, you are connected, you belong. There are mirrors to help you with your impressions of yourself, covering the surfaces only, there are shallow waters, and whales that are lost hibernating in death.
There are books, voices, images carried on winds, they reach you, every inch of you within every seconds of your living. There are beliefs pregnated within you, bounding you, angels sitting on your shoulders, choices and consequences. Devils, not in red capes with horns, the every day devils, urges, desires, longings, all within you, within the chemical fusion of you, inside deep, in hollow crevices of unconscious you, running deep. and a landscape of Gods ahead of you. Do not , no, no, do not ask questions, turn within you and carry a lantern, be daring, yes, you, be daring.
So you think you know, you take the trail, walk, celebrating your quiet escape, not knowing what awaits you at the bend, and yet, you ask for what come may, and it does, as surprising as it might, you know, deep within you, you covet and you receive, you ask, you need, you want and it comes to you, within the boundaries you set, within the life you live, Godless, free, you hope, and walk further, and there, it stands, not far from you, all you wanted, the beloved, the stranger, the keeper, and once upon him, he turns, and it is you, its all of you.
And yet you come back, with no songs to sing, no tales, empty of colors, nothing to offer, but sweat and dread, with me here expecting you, to tell you, you bore me..........you and your little life, your little adventures, your misguided journeys, your silence. your skin dry, your eyes red, and within the ruins of your face, no joy, no smile, the arrogance of lies, the manipulation of life.
You bore me.............
Posted by Idinraha at 04:56 PM | Comments (0)
November 23, 2005
For you...................................so you would know
You got to push a bit more, got to try harder. We would reclaim this age, we always have, for we never stop. Take a different tack, find a new passage, lets read the book again and decipher, maybe we remember. It's all here, we know that, there are passages to unknown, remember that night reading the book, the cold sweat and the shiver. It was not the wine, it was the air we breathed, and the connotations of the word, it was all there, remember we stopped, we could not dare any further. There is a reason for sunsets, there's reason for not seeing, we could not take it any more, and it was more, much more than we expected.
I miss the wine, those faces, and the comradery amongst us. I miss the thirst, what happened to our curiosity, you see we have been engulfed in so much mediocrity, we don't see any more, we don't hear, it's all here, we just got a glimpse, like when we saw the neighbors daughter in her room in a quiet trance, and how we got scared, for we were not allowed, don't, don't worry about the comparisons, urges are pure, specially at that age. You followed me when I opened my palm and showed you the sun, but I knew, I always knew you never believed, you were too factual, too realistic, but I could not let go, journeys need companions, touching reality needs affirmation, and even a non believer like you soothed my loneliness.
Yes, you, it was only me and you, don't deny it. I was the keeper and you knew that, but you needed more miracles and miracles are for those who believe. you liked my hair, the arrogance of my walk, and the loneliness that was brazen and independent, you liked me more than you wanted to, you knew I will take you there, beyond the limitation of my physical reach, I would take you there. Doubts, you held on to you doubts and hid them in your pockets, and asked me again and I had no patience for your doubts, we had to walk, reasons are for those who live carefully , not for me, the way I glowed in your eyes, I was the keeper and you knew, like you knew the east and west of your limitations.
But, would you have laid on the stone and trusted your skin to my daggers, I expects much, too much, and you did not know, I had a garden full of heavenly creatures, and I would have taken you there, so you see the law, the basic measures of living, and how they would have guided us to a close eternity, but you held on to your doubts in your little pockets, and I had to leave, I had to leave you, I could not afford your doubts, or your silence, and you knew you had lost me, your
keeper, your cultivated self, your daring ghoul, you lost me, and I left.
There is tendency in all OD us the turn the key, and allow the light to dictate our reality, but the house was empty and dark, and you stood by the window, trying to remember where the key was, and the bird stayed inside the room, hanging by the side of the wall, and you knew you were watched. I was inside, sitting in the dark, and we allowed the years to take all it was for us to see, and lived carefully with me inside, and you behind the window.
We sit in a cafe, order tea, I have mine black, you ask for sugar and milk, and I try to remember how you mouth tasted the last time we kissed, and try to remember you scent. You are shorter now, life has had a way with you, and I am even smaller. There is a cool arrogance about my standing, the way I deny you any space, I guess hearts remember what mind forgets. I lit a cigarette, offering you one, you hesitate for a moment, and then you take one too. I lit it for you as I look inside your brown eyes, I see the glow of the match in your iris is, you inhale and allow the smoke to sip in, somehow I wish I could.
She had to go away, she had to find her way, and she was afraid she would get lost, and I let her to trace a map on my skin. She never knew how close she was to the reality of my living, how I had trusted her. It's amazing how the beauty become ordinary when there's no attachment. boorish, as beautiful as her limbs looked, it was boorish, I could not reach her through her sex, no matter how deep I was inside her, I could not reach her, and she closed her eyes as she reached the climax, there, right there, there was an opening, where the unconscious mind is vulnerable and is exposed, and she closed her eyes, and I drifted away.
There was a certain joy in solace of losing her. loneliness shined on my skin, and the melancholy writer that lived in me celebrated in joy. He had me again all to himself.
Sit across from me and allow me to touch you, allow me in, like a lazy hours of a misty summer afternoon, and I will tell you of rain, of my soaked desires, of the joy within the heights I dare, but you have to cross the calendars, and tell me you belong to me, and I breath in you a reality. Oh, spaces, the little parcels we occupy within our existence, walk with me in a bare foot summer , walk with me in the first snow, walk with me amongst the red brown dried leafs and the cold breeze of the autumn, and I will fin you the spring. I will share the last glass of the old wine with you and taste you tongue with all the fervor of a new begriming, pray in me, call me, stand on the top of the tallest peaks and call me, somehow I will hear you, somehow.
Lets read the book again, trust yourself, its you I am calling........... yes , me, the keeper.
Posted by Idinraha at 05:33 PM | Comments (0)
November 20, 2005
Murtha, a coward ?
The road to hell is paved with good intention. Ignorance and greed is a dangerous mix. If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it is a duck. Congressman Mertha, the man of the hour, a courageous Marine that has faught many battles, a veteran, a hawk in foreign policy, and yet he gets to be called a COWARD. I am sure he is not one, but well, where there's smoke , there's fire. So what makes a respected member of the congress suggest immediate withdrawal of our troupe from Iraq? Politics.
You see Democrats are seeing a bit of disarray in the oval office, and they can not help it. They want the power back, they want to set the agenda, they want one of them in the Oval Office. Nothing else matters, come rain , come shine, they need the fix. You see they believe that powers only belongs to them. They think they know better than the people that elected them. They know better than anybody else, what is good for America They want their Welfare State back, their socialized universal health care, forcing God out of every schools, gatherings, and public squares. They want the same sex marriage, nudity in television, free pornography, and pure Socialism, and most of all another Clinton in the office of the Presidency. They need it bad, real bad.
The Iraq war does not help them. More restriction on Immigrations, and a closed borders to illegal immigration does not help them; after all its the uneducated masses that vote democrat. Yes , and they want every convict that is jailed to be able to vote too. What to do?, What to do?. You see if the war is not finished by 2008 elections, there is a good possibility that people would want to stay the course, and not change parties in mist of a war. They have to change the popular opinion, so they get their colleagues in the Media to attack every thing with lies and distortion, the end justifies the mean for them.
It's not that they do not get it, they just don't care. They see how the socialist Europe is literally burning with disillusion of it youth, the high unemployment, high inflation, and the Islam Fascist
are taking advantage of the dissatisfaction of the youth and are burning cars, and buildings. They are still living in the haze of feel good living that they had during Clinton's shameful presidency. They have forgotten 9/11, and the new realities it has brought to our doors. However they are greedy enough to vote against the resolution that Congress man Mertha had brought to the floor and was devilishly used by Republicans to show Mertha how foolish his statement has been. The resolution was defeated by 400 to 3 .
Hillary Clinton has been running so fast to the center, we don't hear from her much. But there is Ross Fingered, a respected senator, who has always been against the war, and is respected for his integrity, and his voting record. He has been in New Hampshire a few times, he has aspiration to become president, and he is regarded highly by his collogues as the conscious of the senate. Whether Hillary wants it or not, Feign gold would make her to move to the left, the same way Dean made Kerry to move to the left and become a populist. So Democrats are going to be stuck with another nominee from a North East with questionable integrity and resolve. it would be interesting to watch how the Master(BJ Clinton) would deal with all of these in his effort to get his beloved to the throne.
I am so happy that George has been able to get in touch with his Brass Balls and is fighting back. I will be so delighted if Democrats grow some back bone, and try to filibuster Sam Alito.
We need to put all the cards on the table and stop pussy footing around what we want. Lets have the dialogue, lets fight over this one, lets use the Nuclear Option, and call it as it is. Nothing better that a real brawl in the congress, and if calling Murtha a Coward would start the whole thing, let the game begins.
Posted by Idinraha at 12:20 PM | Comments (0)
November 16, 2005
Barefoot fall
Good morning Mr. Pelt, your mission, if you choose to accept is to spend another mundane, ordinary day at the office, with nothing to do. Though this mission seems to be harmless, it would have more mental stress on your mind than you expect. After the mission is accomplish, you will be observed by our psychiatrist in our agency.
Last night, laying down between my beauties, with both of them in my arms, sound sleep, my mind was drifting to my years at Shariar high school, and Iraj, my first man crush, and the friend I have lost for so many years. In my head I could see his image, the way he laughed, or his thick long black hair that used to cover half of his face. It was nice that I could still remember him. This past summer I used all I remembered of him to depict the physical, and some personal attributes of my main character Malcolm in my book. In many conversations that I had with Dr, B about the book, she asked me, if Choob, is Cyrus, are you Malcolm ? I hesitated for a moment, then I said yes. I didn't have the chance to tell her that Malcolm is partly me, but more of composite of many people I know. The only pure character in the book, which is exactly depicted from all I know of my friend Cyrus, is Choob. And of course what I know of him , is what I remember, since I haven't seen him for over twenty five years, and I am sure he has changed too.
I have so many ideas in my head these days about what to write, that it could drive a normal person crazy. I have never been accused of being normal, so I put up with them, and let them simmer in the back of my head. I need to, and want to, so badly to go back and write another story, but I have promised Marian, that I finish this one before I start the next one.
Many a times, Marjan and I sit down and talk about our kids. It is funny for the ones who have kids know that, you look at them once in a while and wonder: How could I be his/ or her father. There is a sense of wonder in it, a sense of pride, and bewilder ment. How was that I was trusted by bringing this child to the world, and then raise him/her. You always are insecure if you are rasing them right, since there is no manuals for parents, and you have to improvise many a time. But you try to trust your instinct, and go along. All together, it is a magical and very scary feeling.
Lat night with sitting in our family room with our kids, we were watching a commercial with a very cute kid. I told Marjan, my love I think we need to have one of those Cutie again. The kids objected. so did Marian. "the only way we have another kid is to adopt one," Marjan said. "that's not a bad idea," I answered. "you are crazy," Marian said. and that was the end of the discussion. But I still am thinking about it.
Posted by Idinraha at 02:22 PM | Comments (1)
November 14, 2005
This morning I looked inn the mirror, a face onnly a mother could love, annd onnly a wife could slap. It's the carbohydrates, I told myself, but my face has always been too common looking for my ego. I have a big rounnd face, with no exeptionnal features, i always look like someonne, that someone knnows somewhere. There is not much structure or bonnes in my face, mainly a long forehead, wide thick eyebrows, a meaty nnose, thick lips annd nno jawbone. I remedy the lack of any distinnctionn inn lower part of my face with a beard I have been keeping ever sinnce I could have one.
I brushed my teeth, they are getting an amber hue over them, so I brushed a bit harder. I washed my face. and wennt downnstairs. There was plenty of nnoise coming from there and I was curios what was going on. Once I got around the fouyer and enntered the kitchen, the light almost blinded me. the kitchenn was full of people I dinot know, but somehow they looked familiar. "Here you are, sleeping beauty, we are ready for you," I heard a man's vpoice with british accent. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get a better look. There, where the voice had come from, there was a stocky man with blond hair and blue eyes, with a wide smile on his face. Next to him there was a camera with a man standing behinnd it annd looking through the lenz. I was speech less. Who were these people in my house? I thought. But before I know it, I was yanked by two girls , taken to the living room next to the kitchen and was sat down on a chair.
"hello love," one of the girls said, as the other one brought a long mirror and set it infront of me."who are you"? I asked. " I'm Jan, you look to wide eyed for the morning, we got to make you up a bit," She said, and then she put some kind of foundation on my face. "what was that, where is Marjan, Marjan? I almost screamed. " settle down chap, I got to soften those lines on your mug, you look scary," she said. "Where is my wife "?
Posted by Idinraha at 03:35 PM | Comments (1)
The new reality
This morning I looked inn the mirror, a face only a mother could love, annd only a wife would slap. It's the carbohydrates, I told myself, but my face has always been too common looking for my ego. I have a big rounnd face, with no exeptionnal features, I always look like someonne, that someone knows somewhere. There is not much structure or bonnes in my face, mainly a long forehead, wide thick eyebrows, a meaty nose, thick lips annd nno jawbone. I remedy the lack of any distinnctionn in lower part of my face with a beard I have been keeping ever sinnce I could have one.
I brushed my teeth, they are gettinng an amber hue over them, so I brushed a bit harder. I washed my face. and went downnstairs. There was plenty of noise coming from there and I was curios what was going on. Once I got around the fouyer and entered the kitchen, the lights almost blinded me. the kitchenn was full of people I did not know, but somehow they looked familiar. "Here you are, sleeping beauty, we are ready for you," I heard a man's voice with british accent. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get a better look. There, where the voice had come from, there was a stocky man with blond hair and blue eyes, with a wide smile on his face. Next to him there was a camera with a man standing behinnd it annd looking through the lenz. I was speech less. Who were these people in my house? I thought. But before I know it, I was yanked by two girls , taken to the living room next to the kitchen and was sat down on a chair.
"hello love," one of the girls said, as the other one brought a long mirror and set it infront of me."who are you"? I asked. " I'm Jan, you look too wide eyed for the morning, we got to make you up a bit," She said, and then she put some kind of fondation on my face. "what was that, where is Marjan, Marjan? I almost screamed. " settle down chap, I got to soften those lines on your mug, you look scary," she said. "Where is my wife "?
Posted by Idinraha at 03:35 PM | Comments (0)
November 13, 2005
The curve ball
Thursday I realized that its not in me to count all the falling leaves, so I decided to just watch them as they fall, and try not to step on them. Although by not doing that I may be going against the will, or the wheel of the nature. I am trying to think in black and white lately. I think it would give my mind an easier time to concentrate on the images and the process.
For a PEACEFUL man like me, lately I have been having violent dreams. I do need to clean my head more often, using a broom of course , you do know for my affinity for brooms rather than vacuum cleaners. the only things that stops me from a complete cleaning, brooming, is having to actually go to those caves and tunnels, visiting the old ghosts, and the picture albums. oh, the picture albums. I have no patience for picture albums, they do not do justices to the images I have in my big head. That's another source of pain for me, if I had to clean, broom my head, the volume of scattered materials and of course the size of the endeavor, which could put fear in any man's heart.
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night with my stomach in upheaval, it was so bad. I knew the culprit; the two cucumbers I had right before I went to sleep. My wife was up too. I went downstairs and she followed me, worrying about me. She thinks my depression is back. I disagreed with her. I told her I am okay, and if she has to worry about any one, she should worry about Chirac. I kinda thought he might be having bigger problem now thann I do.
Going back to Thursday. I knew Thursday was the day, I was anxious and so I sat me down and thought; well what is bothering you old boy ? I asked myself. I wrote them down. I knew it was time to go back to my regular schedule, I had been goofing around too much, the productivity was down, and I needed an overhaul. So I had an emergency meeting with the other members of the board, and made a few decisions, set a new agenda and I will be changing direction. I felt so much better afterward. I was invited for a celebration at Fairfield University for Dr .B's new book. The party was given by the Women's study center. the though of being amongst so many sharp witted women was thrilling. I made it there. I had decided before hand not to be overly charming, and overbearing, not to talk too much and behave. It was great to see Dr. B. I got a hug and a kiss which made me feel more comfortable. It was a nice crowd, the estrogen level was high, and I was getting as much of it as I could. I mingled with a few people, some thought that I was a teacher in school too.
The reading was great. Dr B could be quite animated, and she has a wonderful voice. I enjoyed the poems she had chosen and immersed myself in her voice, and her sharp wit. As her words washed over me, I knew how badly I needed to be there. There it was; the cure for all my anxieties, being among people I feel close to. Afterward I told Dr B, how much I enjoyed it and how I would be delighted to go to any such gatherings if I were invited.
So, let's do it again. Jack is back. I think I would ask my friend and guardian Choob to take away the locks from the site, and lets have another go around. I hope I have learned my lesson, and stay within the boundaries I should, but knowing me, only God knows. incidentally Dr B, introduced me to one of her old students that now is an editor with a major publishing company. She was gracious enough to give me her card, and ask me to send her some of my materials. who knows. LIFE IS GOOD.
Posted by Idinraha at 11:15 AM | Comments (1)
November 10, 2005
too much synthetic colors
Where life takes you; I need to watch some old fashioned movie, where the heroes where white hats and are honorable to fault. I am sick of all this gore, this white skins, flesh, cunts and bare asses. I like to see a new sheriff in town, a good bar fight in the middle of the senate. I like someone to dare say thing as they are with pout worrying who the fuck gets hurts. All these lies, scheming, turn my stomack, and I know I have been over exposed.
I need to shield myself, read an old book, pray a bit more and mean it, find someone I can respect and talk to them, and listen, I need to wear more grays, blacks and white, all these pretentious colors make my brain cells hurt, I am saturated, frustrated, and can not take it any more. I got to turn the TV off, the Radio, stop buying newspapers, only go on sites on Internet that I am assured of their contents, and cleanse myself of everything that has stuck on my robes. I need to eat less, fast more, play game boards with my kids, walk with my wife and sleep, and try to forget who empty all these hands are, and how lifeless all these eyes.
Or I could ask my Doctor to increase my dosage of myself medication, shrug my shoulders and just exist.
Posted by Idinraha at 03:43 PM | Comments (0)
Dear George
How is it hanging. What happened to your brass balls? I know, its the second term blues, but we expected more of you. I know just winning the second term pretty much has satisfied your life ambitions, but we are at war, so please, wherever you left them get your brass balls back, there is so much to do, and time is of essence.
Remember Liberalism is a disease, it can get to you. After living in Washington for almost five years, it might already has gotten to you. But Liberalism did not get you here, and if not cured it will leave you defeated. Forget about gallantry and generosity, Democrats are pretty much like Arabs, you either hit them on the head or they hit you. Get over your ego trip, and get back to reality. A politician without his base is mostly an out of work lawyer, and you are not even a lawyer.
The best def fence is an offence, my recommendations; make a few public appearance with Mr Cheney, and stand closer to him than ever, even embrace him in public and let them take a few picture, remember we voted for you for your loyalty and resolve, for your instincts, and staying away from Cheney makes you a fair wheat her friend. Stick to you guns, and go down with the ship if you have too, we like you better that way.
Get MacCaine controlled, remind that happy liberal son of a bitch that if he has any aspiration to become an occupant of the white house, he needs the conservatives on his side, and a popular second term president can do a lot of good, even for a turn coat like him. You got to do something about the borders for God sake, put some kind of bold inititive, and if you could not get any support with the senators, take it to the people, even if you wouldn't get it passed, we would know you are doing the job.
Get Porter Gus to clean up CIA fast. Get attorney general to make a inquiry to who selected Wilson to go to Niger, and why was he allowed to write about it publicly. You know they are undermining you there, so get rid of them. Come up with some kind of bills to cut down on the budget, and get senator Frist to push it through no matter what. You need to pick a fight, next time Jimmy Carter, or Clinton denounced you, or your policies, shout back at them, and put them in their place.
Get Iraq's new Government to send you a letter, thanking you and American people for all you have done for them. Go after the Oil Companies and get them to share some of the wealth with the American people, or else. Remember Reagan, and " I have paid for this microphone" incident, we like to see our leaders fighting for what they be live. And while you are at it call Chirac, see how he's doin, and if he needs help or advice on anything.
Posted by Idinraha at 11:10 AM | Comments (1)
November 08, 2005
Frog legs, any one?
Napoleon was short, so he always looked up. We need more short French men. Chirac is too tall, he always has to look down. It is necessary that we either get him to bend down a bit, or maybe cut his legs off. Chirac is a proud men and at the end I think he would end up with much shorter legs. " They deserve it," that is the sentiment, or " they asked for it," that fits too. You know its a well known fact that French tanks are the only tanks with a reverse gear. How about that.
I took the news of 300 towns burning in France with a certain glee. I have always despised the arrogance of the French before the Iraq war. It was more than arrogance, it was ignorance and greed. If France and Germany did not back Iraq, Saddam might have surrendered and left. But schirak has had his hands in Iraq's coffers for the longest time, so did the Germans. Socialist Europe is going to wake up to the reality of chaos. chaos that has been brought to them by all the years of appeasing their enemies. Remember Brigit Bar dot, the french siren, she told the French twenty years ago; Your churches are getting empty and your Mosques are being filled, and at some point you have to deal with it. For that she was arrested and served some jail time.
The Hyenas are closing in, going for the Frog legs. It takes a certain taste, an acquired taste, but they want what they don't have. They are the face of the new generation of French youth. While the older generation have lost all their Values in afternoon bedding of their Friend's and neighbors wives or husbands, in dizzying rapture of their old wines and little packets of coke. They have accepted and were seduced by the ills of socialistic lives they live. Four day working weeks, two month vacations and a comfortable welfare state. They should make teaching Russian history, specially the communist years mandatory in French schools, so they would know the abyss that awaits them.
Any society that loses its social values is taking the first steps toward kayos and fall. We learned that from the Romans, and the Greeks and the Persians. However as delightful is to hear about the kayos in France, it should warn us since we are walking the same path. Thanks mostly to the Liberal Media's, the extreme self hating American left, the homosexual Mafia, Jesse Jackson, Clinton's, Kennedy,and most of Liberal senators, including Mac Cain, Snow, Chafe, and their ilk's on the right.
And of course the disappearing act of the president I voted for. so emasculated by the feverish attacks on his agendas, his cabinet, and his values, he has become the deer in the head light and the idiot savant they have called him. By signing the Highway Bill that is so shamelessly
piggish, and so filled with barrels of lard, that should be called Highway Robbery Bill, Mr Bush has betrayed his agenda and his base. By not moving on protecting our borders, Mr Bush has lost much support amongst his loyal followers. By inviting homosexual queens like Elton John to spend a night in the white house, by giving much exposure to the anti- Christ of our time, Bill Clinton, and giving him a seat next to his father internationally, and serenading him during hanging of Clinton's portrait in the white house, Mr Bush has angered many conservatives.
We need to protect our borders, or we would have cars burning in our cities too. We need to allow our military to do what it has to do, or we end up helping our enemies. We need to get our houses, our families in order, and watch out for our kids. It does not take a village to raise a kid, it takes a family. we should stop raising kids by proxy. We should stop demeaning our educated women who want to go back to their houses and raise a family. We should stop social promotion, and demand checks and balances in our school system. We should stop demeaning minorities by setting quotes for them. The wolves are at the door, we should get back to basic, otherwise ..............................................................................
Posted by Idinraha at 10:25 AM | Comments (2)
November 07, 2005
thoughts streaming
I am extended in motions, the sky passes by in amber and oranges, sunset westward receding, dripping away, I am elated, going, going onward, I live, I live in motion, I am born today of the mother I know, and the truth of my existence has been registered, though I would not know who I'll be, I exist like a weed or maybe a flower, just following the sun, feeding on what I am afforded. the roads, there are always roads to travel, doors to open, as I extend my hand with a smile I labor. Life walks outside, it moves, runs, hops, I watch it, and try to remember. I know I am thirsty I know I will drink, and I do what I do in all I know, , I live
She drives around the corner, she disappears in light, and I know I have left so much of me in her. she smiles as she speeds away and I wave again. she has walked outside of me, and has taken so much of my living with her, and I smile as I remember, It has come to me that there would be no rehearsal, although I was hoping so much, chances are this is all I will get and I think I will keep all I have, I search my pockets, not needing more, but maybe wanting, I know, I should accept and go on, but ...............
I hung the day on the calendar, I called it a name, I expect a stranger today I have not met, but I know it would be today, as the moon dares closer to Earth, we turn, and I would kiss him on his lips and share some tea in long neck glasses, and talk in soft tongues, almost whisper.......we sit all day and talk, I mostly listen, I will learn, and at sunset he would show me all the colors of his sky
I wish I had known more strangers, but the more I know the less they will be, unless I keep in motion. Gypsy's know as the wind blows, they put their ears on earth and listen to the evolution of time, and as the rain comes they rush to the top of the hills and stand naked, so the soil can feed on them nibbling on their bare toes and feet..........I have lived longer than I thought, this day , this long day, this life, this ever now, has taken me so far, and yet there is so long to go, I wish there was a cure to curiosity and then I know I would not ask for the cure.........
My friends live far, they walk tireless and they want so much, my friends are just far away memories of the other days much younger than now, they have bright eyes and silky hair and their skin is clear as the first snow, my friends, they never age and I have held them in a forever................. there are alleys dimly lit in my head, houses and I could stand outside the windows and watch them, but I could never ring the bell, or climb a wall, they will not know me, I have aged.............
I wish I could paint, I think a lot more in color these days, and I have become more aware of how they mix and become, I wish I could paint, I have this urge in me to use my hands, build something, to caress the skin of the wood, and sniff the smell of the woods that its within it, to shape it as I realize the limits of my images and the resolve of its body. I would have loved to build a chair or maybe a table, I know I would. But I know I will paint in my Fifties and who know maybe I get to sculpt later..............................It's like teaching a piece of would all you know or want, and then it becomes a part of you, of you...................................
I go upstairs early after dinner on purpose, Reading a book, a magazine or something, and I know my life would come to me in shape of my daughter, my wife and then my son, and as they splay on the bed next to me, four of us, I tell them stories , even sing them songs and feel so complete in that moment, I keep the outside away, caress her hair, hold him closer, as they find sleep.....................................and think of the first piece of would in my hands, and I dream away.
Posted by Idinraha at 03:49 PM | Comments (2)