windows ablaze with nightingale fluids
mingled upon glass with morning grey
geese fly southbound, flies are dying
it isn the winter hymn scrouching on the meadows
would u believe could u decide what not if unless.
it is utterly and always
the same.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
b
blue ravens cross northern hemisphere dark night is blossoming out of your eyes.
your mind is swaying them to sleep
i am amongst my dearest friends and yet so alone.
give me love
wedding. dez. 3 2008
your mind is swaying them to sleep
i am amongst my dearest friends and yet so alone.
give me love
wedding. dez. 3 2008
a
several hours until the train leaves. blood spurted out of my eyes when i cried and the deep red orange skies opened to a breaking day
the news the news.
are you well?
the news the news.
are you well?
Emeralda Leaving...
I am listening to 'Alexandra Leaving' by L. Cohen. Today I turn one year old.
And what a year it was.
I wept yesterday night over the loss of my love one year ago. It was hard to detach.
I know I didn't lose the love but we had to break apart and follow our own paths without each other in the way we had wished for. I don't even think we are without each other. This is what I pray for. The gem to radiate within our souls, to keep it dear to our hearts and respect and honor what we had.
The song pearled from my eyes, the candle I had lit had burnt down by the next morning.
After lying on my bed on end, letting the tears come and go in waves, letting it all be, the pressure on the chest, the pain, the relief, I read some things that I wrote on a typewriter.
I will post these writings later on here in obscurity and then I think I will try to print the posts I like the best, a collection of the traces of this very love in the world wide web.... And then to leave this blog.
I will continue writing other chapters of my life on my older blog, www.mjamani.blogspot.com 'the dark side of the moon'.
'and you who were bewildered by a meaning, whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed, say goodbye to Alexandra leaving, then say goodbye to Alexandra lost...'
And what a year it was.
I wept yesterday night over the loss of my love one year ago. It was hard to detach.
I know I didn't lose the love but we had to break apart and follow our own paths without each other in the way we had wished for. I don't even think we are without each other. This is what I pray for. The gem to radiate within our souls, to keep it dear to our hearts and respect and honor what we had.
The song pearled from my eyes, the candle I had lit had burnt down by the next morning.
After lying on my bed on end, letting the tears come and go in waves, letting it all be, the pressure on the chest, the pain, the relief, I read some things that I wrote on a typewriter.
I will post these writings later on here in obscurity and then I think I will try to print the posts I like the best, a collection of the traces of this very love in the world wide web.... And then to leave this blog.
I will continue writing other chapters of my life on my older blog, www.mjamani.blogspot.com 'the dark side of the moon'.
'and you who were bewildered by a meaning, whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed, say goodbye to Alexandra leaving, then say goodbye to Alexandra lost...'
Monday, February 16, 2009
impatience
it's hard to breathe, and I know it all!
It's not new, man, it's not new.
I stand up, shake it off, try some small dance steps.
Get back to the computer, restlessly.
Curse, what a curse.
I can't wait to know.
Know more...sparks and lightnings in a bottle.
The smiles and little tender gestures.
Stay winter stay, so he can rub my shoulders when I am freezing.
And the way he put his hands around my face and smiled at me.
it's hard to breathe.
It's not new, man, it's not new.
I stand up, shake it off, try some small dance steps.
Get back to the computer, restlessly.
Curse, what a curse.
I can't wait to know.
Know more...sparks and lightnings in a bottle.
The smiles and little tender gestures.
Stay winter stay, so he can rub my shoulders when I am freezing.
And the way he put his hands around my face and smiled at me.
it's hard to breathe.
Monday, February 09, 2009
helplessly hoping
It is very early in the morning and I am doing a last minute rush to try and learn for my exam at 10 AM later on.
Helplessly hoping. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.
Cardhouses tumble and fall, and yes, we get what we want. Just not in the way we expected it or hoped for.
It is nice to know, that he's out there somewhere. He'll come back soon and we might kiss. It is light.
And it amazes me, how two broken people actually try and find a way through the jungles of heart wreck. Disillusioned and yet daring.
Helplessly hoping. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.
Cardhouses tumble and fall, and yes, we get what we want. Just not in the way we expected it or hoped for.
It is nice to know, that he's out there somewhere. He'll come back soon and we might kiss. It is light.
And it amazes me, how two broken people actually try and find a way through the jungles of heart wreck. Disillusioned and yet daring.
Friday, February 06, 2009
sense and sensibility
I always regretted to recognize myself more in Marianne than in Elinor.
This stupid impulsiveness has brought to many problems to my doorsteps.
Just like in this very moment.
I look at you, you know. I look at you in deep thought, well, as deep as impulse can be. And I am thinking: no, but I really don't love you like that anymore. But there are other things you know. Feelings. And I definitely do project them on you.
Oh, could I just refrain from being so impulsive. It would serve us both very well
This stupid impulsiveness has brought to many problems to my doorsteps.
Just like in this very moment.
I look at you, you know. I look at you in deep thought, well, as deep as impulse can be. And I am thinking: no, but I really don't love you like that anymore. But there are other things you know. Feelings. And I definitely do project them on you.
Oh, could I just refrain from being so impulsive. It would serve us both very well
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
dawn dead
as if to rid the present and past from all the meanings burdening it down
i strike again, at fall of midnight and kill the dreams and
in the last pangs of attempted sense i fail and fall and fill the glass up to its brim
with distortion and abortion
the child stillborn the night bereft of reason or even scornful passionate treachery...
refreshing sounds of loving grace left nothing but cold echoes withering in time
again and again i strike and strike
until the last young trees fall
the blossom of apple trees, youthful and strong deprived of their scents and lust
i strike again, again at night
when i let it ring and wait against my wills
holding faith to spawns of hope
to hear your voice yet once again and
let your words
penetrate my skin
and kill
my dawn
i strike again, at fall of midnight and kill the dreams and
in the last pangs of attempted sense i fail and fall and fill the glass up to its brim
with distortion and abortion
the child stillborn the night bereft of reason or even scornful passionate treachery...
refreshing sounds of loving grace left nothing but cold echoes withering in time
again and again i strike and strike
until the last young trees fall
the blossom of apple trees, youthful and strong deprived of their scents and lust
i strike again, again at night
when i let it ring and wait against my wills
holding faith to spawns of hope
to hear your voice yet once again and
let your words
penetrate my skin
and kill
my dawn
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)