Sunday, 7 June 2009

Swing, Kid!


I begin to dance tonight, with a strength never possessed before by any human. I feel the rhythm dictating speed and agility to my blood. I’m twirling and twisting like a thunderous sea, wrapped in clothes that make no difference. Music is filling my every cell with a hunger worthy of an animal, a beast. My senses all feel alive, as I live fully vibrant for the first time. My every heartbeat rules the world, creating a constant echo of life inside my chest. Certainty and unsteadiness have lost their massive impact: everything worldly has lost its value. This physical spinning has caused a silent revolution inside.

My body is dancing, wrapped in such a fabric that passer-bys can’t stop staring. My bones can’t stop the gracefulness of their undulations, and neither can my wrapping be less flattering. My body is trapped in beauty by envy.

I begin to dance tonight, steadily stepping in my flaming red shoes. I begin to dance tonight, to swing music, not the blues. Alone I spin, alone I swirl, alone I’ll jump and singularly twirl. But this independence is not the stuff of nightmares, public humiliation and certain depravation. I am the ocean, I am the sea, I am the sun, and there is nothing you can do to murder me.

Victory


The bile of fifty thousand years
The cold whistle of a night guard
In death and silence breeding fears
Leaving behind foreheads and hearts scarred.

Breeding rot inside new bones
Winding keys to useless tones
Drawing one eternal line
In which we’ll nestle just fine.

Never do their fists falter
Never do their stares alter
As they lead a generation to the gallows
Feeding worms a meal so callow.

Matching our heartbeats
To one droning melody
The machine cheats
And no blood will there be.

In a world with matching brows
Identical synapses and factory cows
We are fed the food of void
By which we are slowly destroyed.

They lie, cheat, steal and kill
Only to smother our will
They suffocate the very core
That makes us humans roar.

Yet for all their efforts
To pull us apart
We are separately one heart
Fabricated by dreams -

With iron ore seams.
And we prevail,
It seems.

Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Love Story



Light and shadow on your fingertips
Light and shadow playing the piano

The way you leave without a trace
The way my mornings smell of you
The way your keyboard sounds surreal
How every blink of your eye
Turns into night and day for me
How my curves shape to the river of you
Because my nerves burn at your touch

The heaven on your wrists
The music on your knuckles

The you in each embrace
The sunrise in your kiss
The technicality of your devotion
How every touch becomes divinity
When the world stops for us
How I breathe in your word
Because I live by its magic.

The hell-fire in each of us
The intricate arteries of love
Pulsating to the beat

Of our unanimous breaths.

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Wrapped Spirit


A headache love
And a freeway dove
Gave birth to an inconsistent dove
In Marrakech.

A windless whisper
And a saxophone
Produced an ugly, charming tone
Now issuing from my gramohpone.

The world's a-bustling
The leaves a-rustling
My street's alive
I am left but to dive.

I sit very still
In the aftermath of a kill
And the sick light from the window sill
Hates me.

I'm alone!
No, never so...
For how can one who does not exist
Claim any woe?

I have lost density
Acquiring fluid propensity
For all winds and chills
That your heart busily spills.

You have spared your heart
And shot mine with a poisoned dart
You have stretched my soul
And I've just sprouted a hole.

Tuesday, 28 April 2009

Leapsa (I helped myself)


Nume: Ana

Câteva cuvinte (din 4 litere? neah.): androgin, arpagic, ascetic, aplicat, analfabet, amfetamine:>

Numele unui băiat: Andrei, Ahile:>, Aristotel, Aristide, Agamemnon

Numele unei fete: Ana(duh), Alia, Arwen, Ariel, Arizona, Apple, Addison, Ashley, Arya

O ocupaţie: alimentator de vise:>

O culoare: azul:D, alb

Ceva ce o să porţi în viitorul apropiat: a...muleta?

Un nume de mâncare/ingredient: artichoke, (ginger) ale

Ceva ce găseşti în baie: Algocalmin

Un loc: Amazon

Un motiv pentru întârziere: Aiureala

Ceva ce ai urla: Ah.

Un titlu de film: Amityville, A Clockwork Orange, A History of Violence, A Bug's Life, About a Boy, A Streetcar Called Desire

Ceva de băut: A...a...apa de izvor (mai repede ca mor)

Un grup muzical: AC/DC, Aerosmith

Un animal: African Wild Dog, Asian Elephant, Anoa


Un nume de stradă: Armata Populara, Ateneului, Agricultori, Aviatorilor


O marcă de maşină: (L)Amborghini, (Tr)Abant.


Titlul unei melodii: A Kind of Magic, A Thousand Miles, A Thousand Kisses Deep

Fly, fly, birdie, fly towards Cony & Betzy...:)

Monday, 27 April 2009

Journey to the Past


There’s a desert on my heels
A cemetery where I’ve lost my wheels,
Where a full mausoleum lies built and bare.
Emptiness has paid money to be buried there.

I’m flying over a path
Scouting for a place to take a bath.
I smell like a rotten grave
Off I need unhappy bones to shave.

Before touring the graveyard
I lived in a peacock land
And fell in love with a bard.
All that has now turned to sand.

Now I’m just wandering,
Preying for a home.
I’m just circling -
I’ll make do with a ruined dome.

But there’s this twinge
In my spleen:
I’m tired, and have many things seen,
And fear makes me cringe.

But I secretly long to once more be part
Of a land’s soul, of a mountain’s heart.
I wish once more to find pride
Flourishing on my back hide.

I’d like to be tall,
Forget what it’s like to die and fall,
And worst of all:
Bat my wings against a wall.

So there’s hope in my veins
That I’ll one day hold the reins
To a green, gold land, and sing
A silly, tuneless tune, next to my King.

Friday, 17 April 2009

The Shieldmaiden


My dress is made
Of broken feelings and rejected doorways
Sleeves cut by a silver blade,
Sewn together while the tailor prays.

My jewellery is cold,
Which is perfectly normal
Or so I was told.
It's still icy and formal.

I have dancing shoes
With soles of lead
That make me feel like I've nothing to lose
And other times make me feel dead.

But inside this corset
I burst open with the warmth
Of a rising sunset
And twist like a whirlwind of mirth and gloomth.

My hair is filled with madmen
And the dew of long lost songs.
Why do you not see me then?
I even have golden silver prongs.

I suppose it's my fault, too
I was too wrapped up in silk
To remember you
And your words that solidify like milk.

Yet I enjoy my vaporous cage
It's a safe shore
A dungeon for my rage
It keeps me wanting more.

In freedom I would choke
I'd be too naked to know what to do
Without the warmth of my tight cloak
I'd be too close to you.

And you, however benevolent
Are foreign and strange
Separate, frightehing prevalent
My defences you would shift and change.

And I'm afraid.

So I choose crumpled fashion
To shield me
I clothe it in passion
To avoid that dreaded "We".

A collectivity that would become me
Haunt, bewitch and suffocate
With white lover's arms, you see
The very ego and force it was supposed to create.