Monthly Archives: February 2010

28. there always has to be a virus and a host

sleepless night. blurring horizons. stars dancing in front of the eyes.

last night wasn’t good. it was almost entirely awful. a stomach bug my sister had had found its way into my system and was reluctant to leave. a virus no doubt, fighting for its survival and i couldn’t blame it.
bleary-eyed and throughly exhausted, i couldn’t blame it, because we’re all viruses in some respect, finding shreds to cling to, hopes we know will never come true and yet we still long for, impossible dreams, people we don’t love, places we don’t want to stay in.
we cling to the most peculiar things, thoughts, memories just to have something grounding us in this volatile world.  

and so here’s me clinging to you, making you come round my house after you return from a day of hard work, hard study, just so that i can look into the vast expanse of your blue eyes, my hair uncombed, in my bed in my pyjamas, blacking out, hands shaking and still feel wanted right down to my very core.

can i kiss you on your forehead, at least? you ask and i protest, though to be in your arms is what i want, yearn for, almost need.
i don’t want to infect you.
i don’t want you to feel like i’m feeling right now because that would make things so much more difficult, don’t you understand?

there always has to be a virus and a host.

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a night of coveted mirages…

a night of coveted mirages,
your native tongue between the sheets 

parce mots anglais perdent leurs valeur

and my pain rouses as lights flicker out
the echo firing up every synapse in my body
eyes wide open only to see the world forlorn

no deplorable desire in my dejected demur
no looseness in my muted speech
only ashes of the phoenix
you couldn’t believe in

fini  

shining the spotlight on talent

fiveloaf  has made me the honoured recipient of the spotlight award and i think it’s only fair that i continue the chain, spreading the gift of happiness to new writers, that no doubt just like me, wonder if their writing is good enough for the world (if only once in a while).

so here are the three writers whose poetry and prose amaze me, whose words have the power to move and inspire:

longcoolhallway
ruhig

sweiv

thank you guys for giving me something to think about with every post!

———————————————–

rules:
simply pass it to three cute or beautiful bloggers and let them know by commenting.

27. just raw emotion

your kisses covered me like rain and still i wanted more. more love, more of your deep breaths, more of your blue gaze on me.
i wanted more and less at the very same time.
you’re so cruel you say as i push away your hand and aren’t you nice as i dodge your lips playfully.
and yes, we play this game day neither of us knows much about, incentives always at the back of our minds: i hope one day i’ll fall in love and you – that one day i’ll be yours for sure, not just temporarily. 
and we justify it to each other.
and i can’t remember how but in the moment we do it so well. we convince each other. 
like we’ll always be together.

we’re like little kids still, stealing precious moments when there’s noone home.
dizzy spins and stops at every wrong turn (that just so happens to be right).
and then we part, you leaving hurriedly, your hair toussled, my small bites on your neck.

that’s our life. and it continues now that you’re back.
and there’s no romance in it, no sugar-coated words or sickly-sweet gestures. just raw emotion.

just the way i like it.

26. this and that

sometimes days just pass me by as i sit there waiting for the beep of my mobile phone. i can get mad at its inability of recieving an usent text message. the message you take all day to write, or rather not write, and that has much too little love in it to satiate the hungry beast within me, but just enough to make it worth the wait.
a daily ration i devour with my eyes.

yet i’m still in a turmoil, with or without your love, so what does it matter?

X still means a lot. more than he ever meant when we were together. not that i’ll ever let him in my life again, but it’s just to difficult to let go of a person completely.  and he doesn’t want to be friends. and he wants this and that. this and that.
like a spiral of hurt, this and that is tattooed on the insides of my eyelids. 
the next step is unloving his existence.
creating a distance.

but i need you near me. i need you here to take that step and not turn back to look into his eyes. those darn puppy eyes that kept me there for so long.
but don’t start thinking that i will break, that i will snap without you there to help me through.
i’ll just go look for a new conquest, a new heart whose scattered pieces i will grow to love, grow to need, until they fuse together, like they always do. 
then i’ll start again.
new place. new heart. new love that warms nothing but the futile burning dreams.

you know not to let me go.
so don’t.

the cycle remains unbroken…

the cycle remains unbroken
loving words unspoken
as I pass through time, people, lives
unallocated to me,
strangers whose lips aren’t mine to touch,
whose hearts aren’t mine to catch, whose hands remain
firmly out of my grasp, behind the bulletproof glass
of the interrogation room
and all I may do is place a call, seeing a glimpse of their reflection
in the mirrored surface of the looking glass 

and

I let them pass
hoping against hope that one day
one stranger will stay.

25. a little more single

valentine’s day tomorrow.
everyone knows that. most people care. some, like me, are a little more weary of its coming. a little more reserved. a little more single.

walking the streets today was like waking up in a foreign room. every pattern established over the duration of the year (bar Christmas time) had changed. for today only. all the world needed today was a banner screaming for one night only like those one off concerts by a renowned superstar.
illustrious illusion of love taking the world by storm:
the vendors on the streets shouting roses, not their usual bananas or tomatoes;
the music blasting from the shops a mixed array of romantic songs, every single one played to death;
and hearts, chocolates, champagne everywhere.

call me a cynic, but i just can’t stand it all. a dog should be for life not just for Christmas, so love should be for every day, not just the internationally-recognised day of coupling.

i say that but i still don’t know what real love is and noone’s in a hurry to show me.
you went off to Devon. i have to you said and i don’t doubt that you do. you ought to see your gran and if it so happens you visit overlaps with the day we should have spent together, that’s fine by me. no, honestly, it is.
it reminds me of the fact i’m free again. amen.
as to X, oh to hell with X. hot, cold, freezing, boling and then cold again. who knows that boy?
something tells me i never did.

and never will.