cum tacent, clamant

hopefully...

... today it will be over.

somewhere, over the rainbow...

los angeles

[photo by john hesketh]



i want to be an angel...

~ two suicides ~

roadside

and tell me how i'm supposed to feel
when all these nightmares become real
'cause i don't know
...
so leave me on the roadside
and hang me up and out to dry

[r.a.]

if you could read your life
like a story written by someone else

what would you tell yourself to do?

the ghost post

what do you do when you have an image that would pair perfectly with a portion of text...
and you cannot use either? why? because it gives it away, because it would take vulnerability to a whole new level and i don't think my skin's thick enough for that. yet.
you get this: a ghost post. and every time i look at it, i'll think of the unposted photo and the unposted text, one floating before my eyes, the other whispered in my ear. what will you think of?
or a sign. of? or is it yet another one i'm imagining?

depending. on whether you take the ghost post as something you want to say, but don't have the words for, or take it as the sign that you should not even bother looking for them.

follow?

if heaven and hell decide
that they both are satisfied
illuminate the no's
on their vacancy signs
if there's no one beside you
when your soul embarks
then i'll follow you into the dark

i'll follow you into the dark

objects in the rearview mirror...

... may appear
nicer
than they are...

e il naufragar m'e' dolce in questo mare?

tu portami via
dai giudizi cattivi
da questo abbrutirsi
dentro a riti banali
insegnami come si fa
a non sentirsi di troppo
e a non avere sempre dentro
il mare d'inverno

life isn’t about
waiting for the storm
to pass.

it’s about
learning
to dance
in the rain.


vuoi ballare?

E-soul

I listed my soul on eBay. I set a very high reserve price (the secret one, the minimum acceptable amount to be reached for the sale to take place). I can let you in on it: a million euros. I got the idea from an old Peppone and don Camillo movie. The priest persuades a communist to sell his soul for a thousand liras, “since you don’t believe it exists anyway.” In the end, the man begs the priest to sell his soul back to him. I was sure of myself, even though I had just finished reading an interview to an (alleged) actress, titled: “Even clams have a soul.” She wasn’t a mussel, so what did she know?

Right after I listed my item, I started getting the first small offers. The usual curious, penniless folks. However, someone posted about it on blogs, and soon it appeared on websites, TV, and even newspapers. “A guy is selling his soul on eBay.” Offers started pouring in. 300,000 from Colin Powell, who lost his own convincing the UN that Saddam was preparing the atomic bomb. 400,000 from Alan Sorrenti, who used to be a serious singer. 800,000 from Berlusconi, “then I’ll give it back to him, poor chap, I do it for him, in my infinite kindness.” 850,000 from the Pope, because one thing is to evoke something, another is to show it in a glass jar from the window in St. Peter’s (“p.s.: I’ll pay double for the whole Trinity”). Finally, one million, as I wanted. From an unknown buyer. The devil, most likely.

I got an empty box, put a bow on it and sent it to the buyer’s p.o. box. I got credited a million euros on my bank account. The day after I, I, bought a small boat, a Ferrari, a Rolex, ten tailored suits and a platinum nose-hair trimmer. At that stage I realized that, believe it or not, I had, after all, sold my soul.

[http://www.repubblica.it/2003/g/rubriche/naviinbottiglia/e-soul/e-soul.html]

you're not a person, you're a disease

you made me regret being helpful
you made me regret being forgiving
you made me regret giving another chance
you made me regret trying to forget
you made me regret being patient
you made me regret trying to do the right thing
you made me regret being me

all this life that you've been taking
deep inside, my heart is breaking
broken home from separation
don't you know it's violation?
it's so wrong, but you'll see
never gonna let you take my world from me
the world outside these walls may know you're breathing
but you ain't comin' in

when (and if) the cracks in the shield become wide enough, when i can't contain it anymore, when it starts to ooze, you better brace yourself.
it's coming.
it's after you.
and it won't be pretty.

'nuff said

i know, i know, it's shameless self-celebration. whatever.
but you know what? made me laugh.
and that, in and of itself, is quite an accomplishment.
(the fact that it was written on a semi-official document definitely adds to the hilarity)

1

you saved my life
i wasn't there to save yours

i'm sorry

i hope you can forgive me
because i know i can't forgive myself

buio

hardly more than a blind woman
sitting alone, silently, in a dark room
senses alert, looking for a black cat
searching for something which isn't there

vibrate

my phone's on vibrate for you

god knows what all these new drugs do

i guess to have no more fears

but still i always end up in tears

[r.w.]

the verge is a few frustrations to your left

it's in times like this that i wish i had the linguistic (and mental) ability to regurgitate all the anger and frustration and... and what? if i can't even put it into words. and why anger? against who? frustration, well, maybe. sit at a table, smile, be my better self, introduce myself with witty expressions that will make you smile and maybe even think i'm funny but i'm just trying to... to do what? the message is not in the words, read between the lines ~ why do you want to know who i am? what i do? it's inconsequential, i despise what i do, and what i really do, nobody knows, it's mine, do you really think i care about this? that your pretentious, empty words really make you important in my eyes? that i will look at you in awe? that what you do matters to me? that your pompous abstract lucubrations define who you are? i know that my priorities don't match yours, what you deem so lifesaving, your seemingly vital meetingspaperstheorybusinessbureaucracymoneyappearances and whathaveyou, hey, be my guest, i can gladly do without that, i'll trade all of it for a pair of eyes and a smile, the unmediated, raw, gut-wrenching, heartbreakingly painful, tear-jerkingly sad human side of life, the only (valuable?) trace i want to leave of me ~
leave a mark, sell an image. i'm not good at that. it's heartbreaking to be so fake at times. i swim in my green glass, anchored to the bright, plasticky red of a solitary cherry. no pit, we match. self-involved or self-pitying, the difference at times is so thin, see-through like an indian blouse that shines in an unforgiving sun. i want to be saved by tea. i know i was supposed to offer, but i didn't, and i feel guilty now
stop hinting at it, will ya? stop looking at me, will ya?
but at the same time, i can't let her in
please stop, dinner is turning into a nightmare, stop
i can't take it, it's overwhelmingly saccharine. i can drown in lemons, not in sugar. if only they were red. and my nose stopped bleeding. overflow?

sanity is relative.

leaps

what do you make of a day that doesn't exist?

how do you go through it knowing that for the next three years it will be nothing but a click of a clock's arms? that it will not last longer than the blink of an eye? a breath on your lips? an instance, barely intense (or long) enough to be remembered past the initial awe.

and yet, here you are, living through it as if it were a real day, like any other on the calendar, to mark off as yet one more slice of life silently buried in time past.

what if it was just a dream? and for one day, only one, time stood still, and nothing else mattered?

what if.

take a leap.
of faith.

i never had poetry dedicated to me
or a song.
if you had to give me one,
which would it be?

last shot

time to go

gather momentum

find your balance

aim

good luck

the end

score

after all

that's the goal

or so it seems

T.B.C...

if you say so...

so many plays


so little space

T.B.C...

ready when you are

patiently

waiting

T.B.C...

pick your goal

the coast is clear ~ nobody interferes

one puck ~ color's irrelevant

two goals ~ alike yet different

it's your choice ~ nobody else's


which will you pick?







(part 1 of a short thread dedicated to roller hockey ~ not good enough for a project, but satisfying enough to share)

T.B.C...

cold

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps through my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

[sml]

di carezza in carezza

di certezza in stupore
tutta questa bellezza senza navigatore
come se gli angeli fossero lì
a dire che si
e' tutto possibile

[l.l.]

flowery skies

interesting light effects...
is it still "homely"...





... from atop a wooden chair...
... even when seen through tears?

disposable

perishable


recyclable


...

the slow winter of the soul

this is my december
this is my snow covered home
this is my december
this is me alone

this is my december
these are my snow covered dreams
this is me pretending
this is all i need

and i just wish that i didn't feel
like there was something i missed

and i’d give it all away
just to have somewhere to go to

[l.p.]

In Caelo et In Terra fiat Voluntas Tua - Gloria Spiritu Sancto

What language do You speak/If You speak at all?
Are You some kind of freak/Who lives to raise the ones who fall?
Hey, would You tell me why/The cat fights the dog?
Do You go to the Mosque/Or the Synagogue?
And if our fates have all been/wrapped around Your finger
And if You wrote the script then/why the troublemakers?
How do You do?/How does it feel to be so high?
And are You happy?/Do You ever cry?

[I sometimes cry]

You've made mistakes/Well that's ok 'cause we all have
If I forgive Yours/Will You forgive mine?

{s.}

marketing 101

"identify your target audience"

Oh, I'll get by with a little help from my friends

Yes, I'll get high with a little help from my friends

I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends

Merry...

3, or 4, 430, even 5...
O-h so way much better than santa...
[guess what letter i'm thinking 'bout?]

~ iris 236 ~

this rain doesn't come so often,
and these tears are just the same.
it's not the things that haunt me,
but those that have left, i blame.
beneath the forest's gaze,
the wind's hymn does play.
saving up what's left of its strength,
for the hope of a better day.
and here i've been waiting,
under this ancient sky.
waiting for the perfect moment,
to finally say goodbye.

[jackie pastrama]

sean, you always said that you'd beat this, in life or in death, you would beat this. as it was pointed out today, by many, you did, in fact, beat it ~ it destroyed your body, but it never managed to destroy your spirit.

farewell, angel among angels. you will be missed.

~ Requiem for a Friend ~

Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone

Close your eyes
And bow your head
To rest your soul
And to praise the dead

Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone

Dry your eyes
And stand upright
Put a smile on your face
He wouldn't want us to cry

The sun will rise
The stars will shine
Turning day to dusk
And night to dawn
We'll pass on
But until that time

Say Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Say Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone

Have mercy
It's a wonderful life
Eternal rest for the weary
Mourners party tonight

Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone

Wave your hands
But don't say goodbye
We're all gonna meet you
On the other side

[t.c.]

~23~

Farewell, sweet Sean.
You will be missed.

[12/9/84 - 12/9/07]

11

In Memoriam: M.R. 1/8/76 - 12/9/96

And when I chose to live
There was no joy - it's just a line I crossed
It wasn't worth the pain my death would cost
So I was not lost or found

[...]

'Cause when you live in a world
Well it gets into who you thought you'd be
And now I laugh at how the world changed me
I think life chose me after all

[but you already know this, you were there]

I'll leave my window open
Cause I'm too tired tonight
To call your name
Just know I'm right here hoping
You'll come in with the rain

say your goodbyes, hold on to the memories

I don’t pretend to have the answer to this.
What do you do when there’s nothing else to do? What do you do when all hope is gone and only a machine is keeping them alive? I find myself irremediably torn between the impossibility of letting them go, and the unbearable sadness of seeing them suffer. If on the one hand I love them too much to see them suffer, and wish they weren’t in pain anymore, on the other hand I just can’t let go. I just can’t. In both occasions, it wasn’t my call. What would I have done, had I been a mother? A sister? A wife?
A few days ago, after visiting him again in the hospital, I wrote this:

~the deepest cut is the desperate cry for help in the eyes of a friend, the request you cannot honor, that leaves you powerless in the wake of an unavoidable tragedy~

I have seen this before, and it’s still perfectly clear in my memory. The evil that gnaws away at them, little by little, eating away the hope as well. It’s tragic in any situation, but when it touches you, when it hits home, and when it affects people who have barely entered their twenties, well, it’s just plain cruel. Very selfishly, I know, I say that it is cruel. But I have no other way to say it. It’s plain and simply unfair.
And who do you blame? What do you do? How do you cope? I have seen people smile, people laugh, people pray. I sat there. Frozen. I can’t smile. Let alone laugh. I really don’t know how to pray. And even though at times casting blame is a way to overcome grief, what can you blame in this case? Or who? Whose fault is this?
So, unable to do anything else, I just sat there. And I remembered.

Remembered two people who had their entire lives in front of them. Both very smart, bright young men, strong, healthy, generous, loving. I remembered their strength, their determination in the face of the greatest obstacles, their willingness never to give up, their wonderful smiles, the ability to joke, laugh and have fun even when they would have had every right to be bitter, every right to complain, to be spiteful.

In my memories, I held their hands, heard their voices, looked into their eyes, laughed with them. I remembered their legacy: their strength. The compassion. The faith. The love for life. No matter what.

When you have a problem that seems insurmountable, when you feel like the world is falling apart, that everything is crumbling down around you, and you find no way out, please take a moment and think about them. Think about those two young men. And feel blessed – if anything, because you are still here, healthy and alive, with the possibility to do all you desire. With friends who care about you, who are there for you.

I’m here for you.

the smell of hospitals in winter...

... and the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters,
but no pearls...

i wish i knew how to pray.
i just know how to hope.

beating the odds

it's easier when you get a hint

help

it's not beating the odds
it's slow dancing

in a burning room

with fate

and knowing that
for once
you win

whatever it is...

... keep it coming...


... i know
how
to
swim...

~ wipe out ~

The courage
[opportunity?]
to change one's mind

just write
your thoughts
in erasable
ink

~ don't stand so close to me ~

~ synesthesia ~

when the senses
come to the point
of melting with everything around
like rubber in fire
like snow in the sun

there's more than just a maybe

the texture of a word
the taste of a smile
the sound of skin


it's like the flame that burns you from the core
it's the heat that makes you weak

it's a fire inside

[and it's yours for the taking, if you're willing to run the risk of getting burnt]

not the only one

i don't *know* if i'm *great* - i just do my job with a high degree of passion, and if it makes me *great*, even better. i simply like what i do.
but the rest holds oh-so true for me, too.
you're not the only one. and neither am i. helps, a bit at least.
[with the only difference that mine is not a fear, it's a certainty]

name your price

just last summer i turned down an unexpected (and unwelcome) gift. i felt i was being bought out, lured with palatable (meh) objects in exchange for some sort of forgiveness, or my affection, or both, may well be. i was so determined in rejecting said bait, without the slightest doubt.

and now? why can't i do the same now? maybe because the object i am offered is indeed more desirable (and desired)? but isn't this also an attempt at buying my affection? my acceptance? my forgiveness? me?

was i rejecting a past that has no reason to exist anymore? the chance of being reminded of something i'd gladly erase from my memory? and now, am i willingly accepting the fleeting possibility of a future that's not so painful and disappointing as the past? or am i just merely, disgustingly taking advantage of the possibility of saving money and not having to pay for something expensive myself, so that i can get something else i want?

i can't make up my mind. i can't understand if i'm rejecting people or principles here. it's confusing. the only thing i know for sure is that i should be happy and grateful to receive something, anything.

so why am i not?

~sappy moment~

http://www.nygirlofmydreams.com/

i want to be the girl of someone's dreams...
please find me...

and on that note...

the way you laugh at me is *exactly* the reason why i keep silent. it's the impalpable gasoline that just perfectly fuels the inextinguishable fire of my perception of inadequacy.

thank you, so much.

1, 2, 3

Today I had the piercing epiphany that I have been unable to verbalize for a long time. All of a sudden the concept hit me in the face, swimming upstream through the cascade of your nebulously conceptualized explanation of an equally incomprehensible (uh huh, to moi and moi alone, don't I feel special) blabber.

I'm fraudulently participating in your world.

Too practical for your abstractism, it still takes me a leap of faith to assume you can take me seriously and allow me to pretend a little longer. Just the handful of months it takes me to get out of here, don't worry. I'll be gone before you know it. Or notice it, not that it makes much difference in the grand scheme of your world. Bottom line is, I paid the multiply overpriced ticket which entitles (wtf?) me to a front-row seat, witnessing my own beating ~ psychological, what are you thinking? ~ and I come to terms day after day, talk after talk, with the realization that I'll just never live up to your expectations.

You know what? I'm ok with it.

I learned a long time ago to respectfully bow, and gracefully make myself scarce. One moment I'm here, you see me, you hear me, you smell me, you notice me [stop staring, will ya? i ain't a fish in a bowl, just mildly amusing] you deal with me. One moment I'm here, and the next
I

am

gone

Miss?
me?

“Escuchar es lo más peligroso, es saber, estar enterado y estar al tanto; los oídos carecen de párpados que puedan cerrarse instintivamente a lo pronunciado”

[j.m.]

is this...

... enough?

~ two ~

No les basta mirarse y saber quiénes son con una certeza y un orgullo que
* It is not enough to look at each other and know who they are with a certainty and a pride that
nunca hasta ahora habían conocido, como si fueran cada uno el único
they had never known until now, as if they were each the only
espejo posible de la cara del otro y también la única figura que sus ojos han
possible mirror of the other's face and also the only figure that their eyes have
deseado mirar: quieren encontrarse en el tiempo en el que aún no se
desired to contemplate: they want to meet in the time when they didn't
conocían y en el mundo en que ninguno de los dos había nacido, y les
know each other yet and in the world in which none of them had been born, and it
parece que en todo lo que averiguan y se cuentan, lo que despierta tan
seems to them that in everything they discover and tell each other, which awakens so
simultáneamente en ellos como la intensidad casi dolorosa con que se les
simultaneously in them something like the almost painful intensity brought by
revelan reinos desconocidos de sus cuerpos gastados por el amor y revividos
the revelation of the unknown kingdoms of their bodies exhausted by love and revived
más allá del límite del entusiasmo, del miedo y del desvanecimiento, hubo
far beyond the limit of enthusiasm, of fear and fading, there was
desde el origen un impulso de predestinación o un azar que sin que ni ellos
since the beginning an impulse of predestination or chance which, unbeknownst
ni nadie lo supiera los protegía y los preservaba, los fortalecía en el
to them or others, protected them and preserved them, strengthened them
infortunio, en la soledad, en la equivocación y el destierro, nacidos cada uno
in misfortune, in loneliness, in error and exile, each of them born
en un extremo del mundo y sin la menor posibilidad no ya de conocerse
at opposite corner of the world and without the smallest possibility not only to know each other
sino de poseer algo en común, tal vez sólo las tonalidades azules de los
but to have anything in common, maybe only the light blue tones of the
paisajes que veían en la distancia de los días más claros.
landscapes they could see in the distance on the clearest days *

[amm]

~ Reality bites ~

Mi hai rubato l'esistenza Everyone hides
Soffocato la speranza who they are
Hai inquinato la mia vita at least some
Hai aperto le mie vene of the time;
Mi hai costretto alle catene sometimes you bury
Calpestato la mia ombra that part of your soul
Mi cancelli la memoria so deeply
Mi hai buttato giu' in galera that you have
Hai gettato via le chiavi to be reminded
Sei il veleno che e' in me it's there at all.

~ eyes ~

Era la primera vez que me atrevía a mantenerle descaradamente la mirada a un hombre, sólo porque sí, porque me gustaba, y en aquellos instantes se concentraron todos los sueños, aventuras y zozobras del amor imposible, tuvo que notar lo que significaba para mí, no pestañeó, todo él destilaba una luz oscura de complicidad, de deseo compartido, me estaba arrastrando a los infiernos y yo sabía que lo sabía. Por fin bajé los ojos en un estado de total ebriedad, de placer, y cuando los volví a levantar, al cabo de no sé cuanto tiempo, la canción era ya otra y él se había ido.

[It was the first time that I had dared to stare at a man directly, just because, because I liked him, and all the dreams, the adventures, the anxieties of impossible love were concentrated in that instant, he must have seen what it meant for me, he didn't blink, all of his being oozed a dark light of complicity, of shared desire, he was dragging me to hell and I knew he knew it too. Eventually I lowered my gaze in a state of complete drunkenness, of pleasure, and when I raised my eyes again, after I don't know how long, the song had changed and he was gone.]

[cmg]

Fact

eggs
have no business
dancing
with
stones

The Mask

~ slow me down ~

~ 3 am ~

There was a time when we used to talk,
When we used to laugh and we used to walk;
We would open up like never before,
There was a time, but now it’s no more.

Started all by pure chance, on a February day,
(“that’s quite a coincidence!”, I heard someone say);
The top of a mountain fit all in two hands,
It was all so spontaneous, no games and no plans.

A walk up some stairs, from the roof we'd see lights,
You gave me the gift of some wonderful sights;
Then I’d meet you outside, and underground too,
(Where unexpected was one, even more it was two).

We’d stay up for hours, we’d type on and on,
At times it so happened we’d stay up till dawn;
We’d share many details of our private lives,
So trusting each other that we’d tell no lies.

We’d share in our passions, and our beliefs,
Of each other’s time we would be the thieves;
I’d listen to you speak of airplanes and cars,
(Your expertise stretches from here up to Mars!)

We’d talk of perfumes, shoes, dresses, and jeans,
You’d even explain what a fashion term means;
You would ask me questions ‘bout my favorite food,
We’d write crazy fiction if we were in the mood.

You showed me the path to the shutterbug life,
You laughed at me, “Hey! Come to school with a knife?”
Shared music and videos, “Top Gear” and its fun,
Our chats never skipped the chance of a pun.

And from across the world, come whatever may,
We’d make it a point to talk every day;
I’d post pics of the things I would see, eat and do,
So that you would feel you somehow were there too.

By the way I would type you knew if I had to vent,
(a shoulder to cry on, that’s a gift heaven sent);
I’d feel if you suffered, I cannot explain
The reason why I could sense all of your pain.

And when for a long time either was gone,
The other would text or call on the phone;
Watch out for each other, make sure we’re all right,
Something like this, there’s no way you can buy.

The pleasure to talk, and even to share,
It isn’t that hard if the willingness’s there
To listen and care with a wide-open heart,
A beautiful friendship in which to take part.

There was something else (well, how can we lie?)
We would joke about it, and as time went by
More and more people (delicately) pried;
With a blush and a smile, we firmly denied.

On only a few days we didn’t communicate,
When I was on a plane, or you drove state through state;
Now we chat every day, although we don’t really talk,
We barely hang out, and now never walk.

Been away two long months, no chance we could meet,
So I’d hug you while standing on the tip of my feet;
You’d bend over – you’re tall, and stretch up to the sky,
Or you’d pick me up, it felt like I could fly.

You know, it is sad, for I sincerely miss
The sweet, fun, daily dose of pure, simple bliss;
I wish things went back to the way t’was before.
That lovely time, why is it no more?

~ Temptation ~

Me gustaría no hablar más, atreverme a apoyar la cabeza en su hombro. Me concentro en esta idea que me exalta, pero de inmediato se ve acosada por un ejército de razones encargadas de salvaguardar la normalidad y oponerse al riesgo; surgen como una flora de anticuerpos que cercan a la tentación, se entabla una lucha intensa y breve que conozco de antiguo. Al final, mi cabeza permanece inmóvil, como era de esperar: caer en la tentación siempre ha sido más difícil que vencerla.

[I'd like to stop talking, have the courage to lay my head on his shoulder. I concentrate on this exciting idea, which is suddenly attacked by an army of reasons in favor of safeguarding normality and opposing any risks; they rise like antibodies that surround temptation, then engage in a short, intense, war I've long been familiar with. In the end, my head keeps still, as it was to be expected: giving in to temptation has always been more difficult than resisting it.]

[cmg]

~ Small pearls ~

(These are lovely writings from a dear friend's website; the translations don't do them justice, and for that I apologize in advance. France, thank you for giving me permission to post them.)

~ Remember? ~
Emotions are sacred, and memories are altars to the emotions.
When one has the chance to share them, it’s a shared prayer.
(original here)

~ The unit of measurement of absence ~
Maybe it is true that beauty tends to perfection;
however, when contemplating beauty in things,
one appreciates what is present,
whereas by contemplating perfection,
one considers what is absent.
Therefore, one should hold perfection as model,
but not as unit of measurement.
Unless one wants to discuss absence.
(original here)

~ SMS stories #2 - Three Brothers ~
The first brother was born poor and died rich.
The second was born rich and died poor.
The third was born and died,
believing that richness and poverty only concern the living.
(original here)

~ SMS stories #4 – Absence ~
You promise and demand Eternal Love.
I look at you, but I can only offer my unavailability.
Tangible absence.
It isn’t Love, but it’s eternal,
and it’s for you, to cherish.
(original here)

~ SMS stories #11 – In transit ~
Moving train, wish you could look back,
apologizing to the grounded feet,
the disillusioned, dazed ears.
But it’s not time to stop.
Will you ever?
(original here)

~ Hypothetical Oblivion, Manifest Estrangement ~

does it ever go away? that feeling of never belonging anywhere, of not having roots long enough to build stable relationships with people? of feeling that, when absent, the world moves on almost at twice the speed, and when the time comes to jump back on to the carousel, well, it's just spinning too fast and you’re left on the ground, watching?

the uncomfortable sensation of lingering ignorance, the inability to follow apparently simple discourses for lack of knowledge of key fact that occurred at a time of absence. sitting quietly, silently trying to connect severed threads (oh red thread, where art thou?), hiding the throat-clutching feeling that wets the ‘lids, the heaviness of the brick sitting on your stomach, behind a bright smile.

it’s like feeling unneeded, unnecessary, disposable, replaceable, easily forgotten, lost in the oblivion of the memory span of a fruit-fly.

it’s like feeling
foreign

In a long-ago time, when long ago peoples
were building cathedrals and raising up steeples,
they crafted stone creatures and set them on perches
to guard and protect and watch over the churches.
So gargoyles were born, and they stood night and day,
keeping evil and terrible spirits away.

And ne'er was a creature so true and so loyal
as the watchful, courageous, and fearless gargoyle.
But the years came and went, and the people did, too,
and in time, they forgot what their ancestors knew.
And whenever they passed by the gargoyles' lairs,
they trembled in fear at the gargoyles' stares.

And as time went along, people's fear turned to spite,
and they sneered and they cursed at the guardians of night:
"demons!" they grumbled -- "grotesque!" and "horrid!"
"those beasts don't belong on the house of the Lord!"
When the gargoyles heard these words that were spoken,
their stony old hearts became crumbled and broken.
Then storms rumbled in, and their eyes filled with rain,
and in stillness they stayed, alone and in pain.

But as it so happened, some angels were near,
and heeding the grief of a gargoyle's tear,
they each fluttered down from the heavens on high
to sit with the gargoyles beneath thundering skies.
Now, angels have ways of making things right,
so they stayed with the gargoyles all through the night,
patting their heads and wiping their tears
and whispering life into gargoyle ears.
And soon all the gargoyles did magical things:

They gurgled and coughed and shook out their wings.
then together the angels and gargoyles took flight,
and they soared through the clouds on a blustery night.
And while over pastures and hills they were winging,
the voices of angels were radiantly singing
music of healing and songs of rebirth
to all of the creatures in all of the earth:

"God bless the rain, and the storm clouds that bring it.
God bless the music, and the voices that sing it.
God bless the ones who sing everything wrong.
God bless the creatures who do not belong.
God bless the hearts and the souls who are grieving
for those who have left, and for those who are leaving.
God bless each perishing body and mind,
God bless all creatures remaining behind.
God bless the dreamers whose dreams have awoken,
God bless the lovers whose hearts have been broken.
God bless each soul that is tortured and taunted,
God bless all creatures alone and unwanted."

And the gargoyles beheld wherever they roamed
that the souls of the lost weren't really alone.
Each one had an angel, each one was protected,
and each one was cherished and loved and respected.

And so it is true with the gargoyles this day,
for all of the angels who love them have stayed.
And together they wait until days become nights,
to embark on their dark and most glorious flights.
So if you see shapes in the night sky, don't fear --
for it simply means angels and gargoyles are near,
easing the earth with their gentle night call:
God bless the gargoyles. God bless us all."

[Dav Pilkey]

~random fragment~

... estamos repentinamente al otro lado ‑mucho más allá‑ del miedo y la vergüenza, y es evidente y claro que en cualquier instante yo tendré que morir, porque la ternura me ha traspasado como cien alfileres de diamante, la ternura me ha pisoteado y arrollado a su paso como el más terrible de los ejércitos en marcha, y me voy deshaciendo, disolviendo, desangrando en palabras...

[esther tusquets]

~ feed the birds ~

In her own special way to the people she calls,
"Come, buy my bags full of crumbs.
Come feed the little birds, show them you care
And you'll be glad if you do.
Their young ones are hungry,
Their nests are so bare;
All it takes is tuppence from you."
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.
"Feed the birds," that's what she cries,
While overhead, her birds fill the skies.

amen

Sanctus Espiritus
redeem us from our solemn hour
Sanctus Espiritus
insanity is all around us
Sanctus Espiritus
is this what we deserve
can we break free
from chains of never-ending agony?

[w.t.]

it's like being...

... disposable...