It’s a rare species they agree. Weird kind of humans they say.
They are even rumored to read written text backwards & paint from their assholes.
Apparently, they raise their eyebrows until their forehead merges with their skull, until their tongues are lolling & itching to pry their own eyes open. Their bodies decay faster they say, grow roots into the soil or into coarse gray marble. Sometimes their veins reach out from under their ribs & join the electrical wires of a radio!
Their reflections talk back to them sometimes & sometimes their breaths scorch the paper. Ink runs thick in their quills like blood. In cold winters, they sleep open eyed with their toes in their mouths. Inside their beating hearts is a cold, blue stone that would glisten like a king in the sun, but it hides among tumultuous gray veins that pump sugary molten blood.
Its said that they swallow rude winds & rigid forests. They steal firewood & burn hair in the night-lamp, while they swig bottled blue wine that sparkles in dank cellars. Their words are empty sometimes, their meanings true. As their tails stomp the earth, the dust risen climbs up rusted rails into gloomy golden skies sometimes.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The Immortal One
Time is immortal, impersonal, and harsh. You can never forget time; it keeps ticking away, mocking your righteousness. Then the darkness overwhelms you, strangles your senses while time stays untouched. The nonchalant companion sits guiding the day, as you immerse yourself into the heaviness of the dark cave. The shades of black move in tandem to the loud echoes of the town clock. Entranced & confused, you shudder in that formless manner, evading that feeling of existence & truth.
You hear a sudden intake of breath, but where is this wide open mouth of yours? In the formless black, a gasping mouth stays forever frozen.
You hear a sudden intake of breath, but where is this wide open mouth of yours? In the formless black, a gasping mouth stays forever frozen.
The story collector…
When the sky blushes for the dark night, my silent footsteps yearn for light. I tread wispy into houses possessing air that smells faintly of cooked oil. There I, shrouded in whispers, drift around the colossal rooms, with loud triangular symphonies raging within the tunnels of my head.
Everything is dark, papery breaths fill the chests in the sleeping beds. In one room quietly blossom particles of light, their soft laughter dances around the sleepless woman’s grave unrest. She stares wide eyed, frozen in a plane of vision. The bees buzz industriously around her nose, the eyes follow; they enter the nostrils, penetrate the brain, swim in colored matter and come back out, ceaselessly repeating.
I sigh needlessly. She shakes out of her buzzing stupor and turning off the lamp twists into a position that pleads for rest. The covers release the air as they slowly mould themselves around her dreaming body.
The curtains swing up gently and caress the sleeping cat. It wakes up & looks at me keenly, its gaze so penetrating, my inert body trembles sweetly. I tend to some wholesome milk hidden away in the kitchen, unveiling it to the curious cat that spies defiantly.
It rejects my friendly offer; vanity is its jeweled crown, the breezy darkness is my only cloak.
Everything is dark, papery breaths fill the chests in the sleeping beds. In one room quietly blossom particles of light, their soft laughter dances around the sleepless woman’s grave unrest. She stares wide eyed, frozen in a plane of vision. The bees buzz industriously around her nose, the eyes follow; they enter the nostrils, penetrate the brain, swim in colored matter and come back out, ceaselessly repeating.
I sigh needlessly. She shakes out of her buzzing stupor and turning off the lamp twists into a position that pleads for rest. The covers release the air as they slowly mould themselves around her dreaming body.
The curtains swing up gently and caress the sleeping cat. It wakes up & looks at me keenly, its gaze so penetrating, my inert body trembles sweetly. I tend to some wholesome milk hidden away in the kitchen, unveiling it to the curious cat that spies defiantly.
It rejects my friendly offer; vanity is its jeweled crown, the breezy darkness is my only cloak.
Silence
What do you see in my silence?
Do you not see a rummaging of thoughts? a rearrangement of gestures? the traffic of muted judgments kept aside for they only amuse? Do you not see me take pleasure in the calculated imagery of myself and of you... the slight smirk that suggests presence, the forlorn gaze that belies presence, evoking a mixture of curiosity and defiance?
Confused by the lack of communication, you speak with averted gaze, a harsh and uninviting tone.
I am now cold.
Not a single word has been rescued from the dreamless mist, not like before when they were warmed on a wooden floorboard and they donned an actor’s shoe, to dance the image within that dreamless mist... Only the fire crackles emptily, the red embers, suggest a dreadful reckoning.
Panicked, I pick up a deep crimson ember, twist it into a word and fling it through the mist. The mouth has stayed shut for long; the hinges have forgotten to open. The flung ember hurtles into the unopened mouth, singeing the soft innards of my lips; my mouth opens in a frenzy, the ember shoots out, all the while transforming into a sound. Your eyes react to my blundering voice, as I sit astonished at the timbre and strangeness of my voice. A stranger has spoken and while you wait for my familiar voice, I am lost again in the sea, listening to the thrashing waves on a distant shore.
Do you not see a rummaging of thoughts? a rearrangement of gestures? the traffic of muted judgments kept aside for they only amuse? Do you not see me take pleasure in the calculated imagery of myself and of you... the slight smirk that suggests presence, the forlorn gaze that belies presence, evoking a mixture of curiosity and defiance?
Confused by the lack of communication, you speak with averted gaze, a harsh and uninviting tone.
I am now cold.
Not a single word has been rescued from the dreamless mist, not like before when they were warmed on a wooden floorboard and they donned an actor’s shoe, to dance the image within that dreamless mist... Only the fire crackles emptily, the red embers, suggest a dreadful reckoning.
Panicked, I pick up a deep crimson ember, twist it into a word and fling it through the mist. The mouth has stayed shut for long; the hinges have forgotten to open. The flung ember hurtles into the unopened mouth, singeing the soft innards of my lips; my mouth opens in a frenzy, the ember shoots out, all the while transforming into a sound. Your eyes react to my blundering voice, as I sit astonished at the timbre and strangeness of my voice. A stranger has spoken and while you wait for my familiar voice, I am lost again in the sea, listening to the thrashing waves on a distant shore.
A prophecy
It had seemed effervescent, the wooden floor squeaking and the squeamish laughter. The boy held the dense sword ready to strike, muscles tensing under a teasing smile. The silver-eyed girl raised an eyebrow at this noisy fly that lurked about her nose. The smile grew wicked and the sword plunged down in mock fight.
The sword had meant to stop inches away from her stomach, yet it thudded down ferociously, as the girl slyly rolled away. The shocked moment turned against the boy, as his leg twisted and he fell heavy onto the planks that murmured slightly in protest. Giddy laughter filled the room as sword boy and silver eyed girl clumsily fought for reprisal.
Nodding affectionately she walked out of the room towards the kitchen, listening to the dry sound of her footsteps, as the two thudded away. She filled the kettle with water and put it to boil. The window spewed cold dewy light. The mist had set herself down pleasingly against distant gray mountains. It was real. This tumbling landscape, the music wafting on the chilly winds, the mock sword fights, the stolen kisses whispered to wet lips, and the breathless climb up beaten paths. This was all true. It had to be true; she was in it all.
She sighed forcefully as the water began to boil and saw herself standing crooked at the window clutching a steaming kettle. Her heart missed a beat, she clung dreadfully to the present, it seemed to be fleeing into a cave smothered with past memories and the sneaking future. Their glow, blinding and alive, bounded her; her leaden legs wouldn’t budge, the molten darkness chanted the melancholic tune of her enslavement. Time silently observed, rigidly unperturbed by her drowning screams. There was no future, no present in this cavernous pit; there were only glimmering, endless echoes of the past.
The sword had meant to stop inches away from her stomach, yet it thudded down ferociously, as the girl slyly rolled away. The shocked moment turned against the boy, as his leg twisted and he fell heavy onto the planks that murmured slightly in protest. Giddy laughter filled the room as sword boy and silver eyed girl clumsily fought for reprisal.
Nodding affectionately she walked out of the room towards the kitchen, listening to the dry sound of her footsteps, as the two thudded away. She filled the kettle with water and put it to boil. The window spewed cold dewy light. The mist had set herself down pleasingly against distant gray mountains. It was real. This tumbling landscape, the music wafting on the chilly winds, the mock sword fights, the stolen kisses whispered to wet lips, and the breathless climb up beaten paths. This was all true. It had to be true; she was in it all.
She sighed forcefully as the water began to boil and saw herself standing crooked at the window clutching a steaming kettle. Her heart missed a beat, she clung dreadfully to the present, it seemed to be fleeing into a cave smothered with past memories and the sneaking future. Their glow, blinding and alive, bounded her; her leaden legs wouldn’t budge, the molten darkness chanted the melancholic tune of her enslavement. Time silently observed, rigidly unperturbed by her drowning screams. There was no future, no present in this cavernous pit; there were only glimmering, endless echoes of the past.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)