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February 26, 2006
quiet living
I was just polishing my shoes, my Black shoes. There is something about doing menial chores that are gratifying to me. I like Ironing too, and I could say, I do a good job at it. I think its the quietness of the task, and the concentration to do the job well that appeals to me. Thinker without thoughts, the most enjoyable state of being. Yes my friends, thinking can kill you fast, very fast. that is the reason that simple minded people live a happier lives than the curious ones.
-Its a blessing to be born a calf and die a cow. I have heard that saying many a times, but there is also the more brazen, self indulgent school of thought ,- A life not examined is not worth living. But I do personally believe that we have no choice in the matter. We either see everything in Black and white and are happy with the state of our lives, or at some point colors do begin to crowd the picture, and we get hooked. I woul have rathered not to make that choice, Thankfuly the choice was made for me, as for all of us.
The other day I was going through my friend Choob's site, and there was a picture of him at his workshop, working on pieces of Jewelry he makes. He looked so into it, and so out of what was happening around him, it looked like Bliss. There's something very Nobel about working with your hands, I envy the people that have such occupations. The instant gratification that one would get upon progressing in his work, or the end result must be heaven.
I think as contemporary men, some of our ills are due to the fact that we are just a part of the working machine, we do not see how it starts, and how it finishes, so we don't get to enjoy the process. We don't plant seeds, and watch them grow, although having kids comes very close. we don't use our bodies for the purpose they are made for, so we get headaches, tension, fatigue, and have to use that wasted energy walking a thread mill, or punching a boxing bag.
Women though have an easier time at this. No matter what station in their life they are. They get to fold the towels, arrange the house, some even still clean their houses, which of course seems so passe, so they get some of that quiet solace that comes with accomplishing their task. Sometimes I watch my wife when she goes about doing her morning chores, I ironing the kids clothing, getting them ready, making breakfast for them, and there it is the satisfaction, the quiet bliss. I thin as human being we have lost a lot by paying others to do what could bring us that subtle harmony of going through different parts of a task and seeing it to the end.
Posted by Idinraha at 01:02 PM | Comments (1)
February 17, 2006
Swallowing you
Standing naked
behind the window
as the night crawls outside
a quiet serpent is roaming the house
I'm heaving, all breath,
I'm all fusion, electric pulses
and my skin thaws against the cool glass
I'm all expecting
Autumn brought golds and amber
and the life of greens bled in oranges
I counted the trees, and counted again
as they stood bare, their barks dry
crackling against the air, such submission
no objections, no denial, just a callas season
corroding the surfaces,
Autumn bloomed in Browns, and purples
as I counted the trees
The house came to life
as boundaries on edges of
each brick and walls turned in
I paint oranges and reds, yellows
sparkles on pieces of wood, I crank
its essence inside, celebrating the fire
as it hang in the air, blowing outward
I am warm in a cozy extension
Autumn has swallowed the house
But I 'll make it whole inside
Seasons defy time, seasons move
in deliberate extension beyond, as the clock
ticks, and the worm moves further inside
morphing to shiny pieces of larva
I decline all the invitations
Lock the doors, checking each
over and over, as the clock ticks
And I pick on you
with my long beak, hungry
like a voultcher at a cadaver
like a memory that hangs in the attic
surrounding a day of idle thoughts
I pick on you, swallowing you
like the last pieces of a delicious left over
at a quiet of a midnight, and how you
melt in me, coming inside
You hold on
as I reach you, you hold on
as I ring the bell, and tongue
you in layers of pink, simmered raw
with my breath, my longings, my appetite
I mold you, a deformed goddess
breaking you at the edges of your skin
and you hold on, like memories
of the moth in exaltation of
the last flame, I fall in you hard
And we both smile
at the Autumn and the seclusion
of a season, so unexpected, so calm
we have tea in the afternoon, and watch the
last show at midnight, then you leave, back to the attic
and I stand behind the window, naked, tasting
my mouth, holding my sex, tonguing my lips
Posted by Idinraha at 11:31 AM | Comments (0)
Happy valentines day !
So, everything is fine with the world, As the ice melts in the northern tip and African kids are slaughtered in the heat of feverish deformed Africa. There is a man stinking so bad of corruption in the Golf coast and he wants his Chocolate people, he is poetically extending his ignorance, and we all get to watch, and say nothing as the Penguins in Washington throw money at every problem, and get to take themselves so very seriously. Politicians share arrogance with Journalist and both feel happy in their colorful attires.
O appetite, what will you leave us this time, I drink my coffee regular these days, I am older now and do not need to impress any one. I have made a little opening on the side of my skull, where I dump the visuals and the uninvited thoughts, when overwhelmed I even leave that open for a while and just hibernate like cows chewing on fresh green grass with my eyes jaded into a void. I ask myself over and over again, What were you thinking ? And I purposely do not answer back, or maybe I do not know and never will.
An old friend asked why no posting on V day, Silence is the best revenge, the best remedy when words stumble taking you around the bend and bringing you back to a boredom of all these expressions of little people, with their little sentiments and little images crowding their little lives. Nothing hurts like boredom, nothing corrupts like mediocrity, happy smiles measured on happy faces with red as the color of the day, and a quick fuck on the heart shaped bed with the latest Valley dolls, Happy V day, please......... get a life.
It's not ideology, it's not beliefs, it's not religion, IT'S POVERTY my friend. Its the stench of HAVE NOT'S, wanting a bit more of what they do not have. It's our made up soap opera scented life they want, they see it on CNN, and all the other whorish vehicles of mass media, and they want it. Its all the idle hands and idle thoughts, unemployed creatures that do not have any goals in their lives, but survival. Their lives is not taking them any where but down, they are not loved, they are not praised, they are poisoned roots of untouchables that the accident of nature have brought to the surfaces, how else do they believe in seventy two virgins in heaven. Its the poverty of means and ideas and intellect, and the shrewd manipulation of a the most crooked perverted thugs in turbans, and all for the Gold that has been left after the Crusades.
Its the fusion of extremes, on this corner, we live our lives in scented colors of Victoria Secrets, between our Desperate Housewives, Swapping Wives, on our Broke back Mountains, chewing on the legality of Abortion and which hole one should use to penetrate, and should the ones that use the back one get to co- habit under the Banner of Marriage, while our fifth grade daughters train their lips and tongue blowing their class mates and our teen age sons are high on pot and cocaine, chocking not their genitals but their necks to get even higher, sniffing glue, and anything to make them feel, and experience something different. and once in a while one of them the one ridiculed most or left alone most, the one who was never loved, and fell trough the cracks of our -Foster Parents system, or Welfare, the one who never was talked to by her feminist mother balancing a career and Parenthood By Proxy. and his father running after the new selection of teenage whores on Internet, or around the corner in Mexico or Thailand and Eastern Europe, experiencing his Mid life crises, he who has fathered and left to embrace and find himself. Yes that one would find a gun and shoot a few classmate as the gleeful news hungry news anchors debate the NRA AND THE FIRST AMENDMENT OF THE CONSTITUTION.
Yes all of us the privileged , spoiled, pill popping society of corrupted values and emptiness that would not get fulfilled between the sheets of our infidelities and our latest fuck. walking around with our Blue tooth phones hanging from our ears, desperately trying to stay in touch, since loneliness might remind us how little, puny miserable creatures we are. IT is the fusion of HAVE TOO MUCH and have not's, its not ideology. offer a green card to any of those demonstrators and they will forgo their Jihad and come to United states to work in Mc Donalds. And our friends on the left here, the Turban less Mullahs of the democratic party who themselves have manipulated and milked the minorities of Spanish and blacks in America, under the banner of ACLU, and have kept their constituents in lines for the longest time with gifts of welfare , Quotas, and Affirmative Action. Yes, the politically correct crowds do not get it, and for that they do not get elected, and still they do not know.
Europeans are waking up to the reality of the snakes they have bred in their sleeves, and having to deal with a Europe that will be half populated by Moslems. and the fruits of their past crimes of Colonialism that has provided them with society that is divided, and socialist values that have given them two digits unemployment and inflation. a bankrupted Europe that has to take a different tack to deal with its ills. And lets not forget our beloved Iranian President who brazenly desires the inhalations of Israel, and the Great Satan, and is working feverishly to build the bomb that would bring their twelfth Imam to the scene of political Mayhem and the end of humanity.
So happy belated Valentines day ! happy now ?
Posted by Idinraha at 09:41 AM | Comments (2)
February 11, 2006
Thought of the day!
- Would you like to have a Moslem with your Danish ?
Posted by Idinraha at 02:03 PM | Comments (1)
February 02, 2006
Play it again Sam
It is like a good poem, a long one with enough complexity and beauty in it, that when ever I get a chance,...... It's like one of those Russian Novels, I loved so much when I was much younger, with characters that come real, human like, and they have so many layers to their personalities, and each scene is described in delicious details, each movement,.... Its almost lyrical, each frame, the colors,. the camera angels, the dialogues, the haunting faces of the lovers in it. So I sat again through another screening of the English Patient, and I enjoyed it, got lost in it, got inspired by it, fell into it, and all.
and it has stayed in me, like a good wine, a good song, lingering..........
Posted by Idinraha at 12:35 PM | Comments (0)