When on your pillow you will lay your head
When in satin I will be dead
The fallen leaves will gather on my chest
The rain will fall on my soul
When you will walk on my tears
And with thorn you will crown my front
It will hurt to see you go
In the arms of your beloved
Knowing that, you will not see me each night
Climbing into our bed
Laying a kiss on your lips
Waking you up from this dream
With the will to carry on…
Friday, May 4, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Tooth Ache
Keep on dreaming little child. She was not here. 2 minutes to midnight and he is driving like crazy. Be careful this old lady does not have to die. The north wind will carry him to his wound. The eastern wind will engrave the dagger deeper in his being. Scream as did the guitar and cry. Nobody will know. He has changed his tears into thorns that he engraves in his heart and bleeds in silence. He puts the gear into reverse and breaks the bumper. Turns off the car. Shuts the door. Forgets the key inside; no problem. There she is shining like ever but for someone else.
His toothache grew deeper and he felt like fainting. But no one would understand that. They will think that what he saw affected him. Did it?
He poured a cup of coffee and lit his cigarette. This enhanced his dizziness. No one noticed because that is the way he is usually. The amount of drugs that he took every day could not stay unnoticeable. But he was not impotent. Damn! This will disappoint a lot of good-intentioned assholes.
His toothache was devastating. He took the red pill and swallowed it with a shot of tequila. Ten minutes later he was elsewhere. This was the way he used to feel when he was normal. He did not like the fact that he was stoned, but that feeling of belonging to another world suited him fine because, at least in this total loss of consciousness, this nowhere had the opposite meaning of where he really existed. He was missing what he had. No matter what it was, it has left a hole inside his being.
He drowned a piece of cotton in some whisky and placed it on his tooth. And when the numbness took over, he kind of sterilized an old knife and disregarding the pain he snatched his tooth right off his gum. Ouch! That hurts. What a stupid thing to do. But…
It seemed that he was meant to hurt all his life. Why? He dared not ask.
Why? A serious yet stupid question. He will not get his answer unless he dies. And that is what he is suddenly afraid of. He used to consider death as a relief. Life was a big riddle to him. He did not know how he existed. He did not know how he was conceived, just because he never saw his parents making love. Did they ever? Who knows? Then where this debt came from? Why should he endure the ransom? What sort of crime is he assuming? Why dear god why?
The answer remains in silence.
The answer remains a question.
The answer lies elsewhere.
The answer he has to live.
The answer he has to search for.
The answer he has to run away from.
The answer he has to dream of in his sleepless nights.
His toothache grew deeper and he felt like fainting. But no one would understand that. They will think that what he saw affected him. Did it?
He poured a cup of coffee and lit his cigarette. This enhanced his dizziness. No one noticed because that is the way he is usually. The amount of drugs that he took every day could not stay unnoticeable. But he was not impotent. Damn! This will disappoint a lot of good-intentioned assholes.
His toothache was devastating. He took the red pill and swallowed it with a shot of tequila. Ten minutes later he was elsewhere. This was the way he used to feel when he was normal. He did not like the fact that he was stoned, but that feeling of belonging to another world suited him fine because, at least in this total loss of consciousness, this nowhere had the opposite meaning of where he really existed. He was missing what he had. No matter what it was, it has left a hole inside his being.
He drowned a piece of cotton in some whisky and placed it on his tooth. And when the numbness took over, he kind of sterilized an old knife and disregarding the pain he snatched his tooth right off his gum. Ouch! That hurts. What a stupid thing to do. But…
It seemed that he was meant to hurt all his life. Why? He dared not ask.
Why? A serious yet stupid question. He will not get his answer unless he dies. And that is what he is suddenly afraid of. He used to consider death as a relief. Life was a big riddle to him. He did not know how he existed. He did not know how he was conceived, just because he never saw his parents making love. Did they ever? Who knows? Then where this debt came from? Why should he endure the ransom? What sort of crime is he assuming? Why dear god why?
The answer remains in silence.
The answer remains a question.
The answer lies elsewhere.
The answer he has to live.
The answer he has to search for.
The answer he has to run away from.
The answer he has to dream of in his sleepless nights.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Kaboom!!!
Is it supposed to set you free?
I mean the truth?
I just heard the man kill himself.
The cold steel turned into hell before his brain scattered.
But has it erased the deed?
Has it liberated the sickened soul of an eternal murderer?
And yet how many times shall I hear this gunshot again through my whole existence?
Furthermore will my conscience be as clear as the emptiness of his skull?
This I ask of you, sweet one?
Why did you ask me to let go and live peacefully?
Must I bear this moral murder in my being for as long as I shall live?
What about my promise to shelter you in my arms for the remaining of our consecutive lives?
My thoughts are so scrambled and yet I am so aware of what has been done?
He condemned us to hate each other just by the fact of being in love after waiting for so long to find the courage to face this fact?
I mean would you still marry me?
Would you just do it to punish me for his sin?
What would our children be?
Would they be revenge?
My bed is so empty without your answer and my cells call out for your breath.
Cover me I am shaking.
Hold me I am fainting.
I don't know I may even be crying.
I mean the truth?
I just heard the man kill himself.
The cold steel turned into hell before his brain scattered.
But has it erased the deed?
Has it liberated the sickened soul of an eternal murderer?
And yet how many times shall I hear this gunshot again through my whole existence?
Furthermore will my conscience be as clear as the emptiness of his skull?
This I ask of you, sweet one?
Why did you ask me to let go and live peacefully?
Must I bear this moral murder in my being for as long as I shall live?
What about my promise to shelter you in my arms for the remaining of our consecutive lives?
My thoughts are so scrambled and yet I am so aware of what has been done?
He condemned us to hate each other just by the fact of being in love after waiting for so long to find the courage to face this fact?
I mean would you still marry me?
Would you just do it to punish me for his sin?
What would our children be?
Would they be revenge?
My bed is so empty without your answer and my cells call out for your breath.
Cover me I am shaking.
Hold me I am fainting.
I don't know I may even be crying.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
The Pill
“I need my pill”, he cried.
But the pill stood still. Old and forgotten in a safe gloomy dark cold place, it is waiting for a prescription. Oh! I forgot to mention that in order to get well, you need a prescription. A prescription for living. Or else you die. Not that physical death but a more slow and painful one. Yes that is right I am talking about the death of your soul. My latest job was to motivate people when they were feeling down. I was to hand them that little secret pill that would make them want to live again, face life again, find a meaning for it, find that purpose they are hear to accomplish; in short, find themselves.
Yes, I need my pill.
You see no matter what people will tell you about finding yourself and ways to do it, if the acceptance does not come from within you, it will never come. People can prattle all day long, giving you a headache, but they will be just making sounds. I mean you can hear the raging of the hurricane but have you ever listened to it? You can hear the mass shouting but have you ever wanted to take a minute and listen to them?
Listening is the key my friend. And it is only through listening that you can make a difference. Not just any listening, but listening to your self. Listening to this being that is you and really understanding what ever this trapped breath of life is telling you. It is never too late. It might be tough in the beginning, it might require lots of sacrificing, lots of heartaches and lots of obstacles may exist on your path, but in the end what will prevail is you and only you can make it happen. You might have made the wrong choice to live as you are right now or maybe conducting your daily chores, but it is never to late to undo the mistake if you really are sure that it is a mistake and that you will know after really listening to yourself. Yes your breath of life can and will talk to you sooner or later but you only have to listen. One simple example will clarify my point.
How can you answer a question if you don’t listen to it in the first place?
Simple! No?
Open your ears and listen with your heart and do the right thing.
I know that you will because I really need my pill.
But the pill stood still. Old and forgotten in a safe gloomy dark cold place, it is waiting for a prescription. Oh! I forgot to mention that in order to get well, you need a prescription. A prescription for living. Or else you die. Not that physical death but a more slow and painful one. Yes that is right I am talking about the death of your soul. My latest job was to motivate people when they were feeling down. I was to hand them that little secret pill that would make them want to live again, face life again, find a meaning for it, find that purpose they are hear to accomplish; in short, find themselves.
Yes, I need my pill.
You see no matter what people will tell you about finding yourself and ways to do it, if the acceptance does not come from within you, it will never come. People can prattle all day long, giving you a headache, but they will be just making sounds. I mean you can hear the raging of the hurricane but have you ever listened to it? You can hear the mass shouting but have you ever wanted to take a minute and listen to them?
Listening is the key my friend. And it is only through listening that you can make a difference. Not just any listening, but listening to your self. Listening to this being that is you and really understanding what ever this trapped breath of life is telling you. It is never too late. It might be tough in the beginning, it might require lots of sacrificing, lots of heartaches and lots of obstacles may exist on your path, but in the end what will prevail is you and only you can make it happen. You might have made the wrong choice to live as you are right now or maybe conducting your daily chores, but it is never to late to undo the mistake if you really are sure that it is a mistake and that you will know after really listening to yourself. Yes your breath of life can and will talk to you sooner or later but you only have to listen. One simple example will clarify my point.
How can you answer a question if you don’t listen to it in the first place?
Simple! No?
Open your ears and listen with your heart and do the right thing.
I know that you will because I really need my pill.
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