i’m changing tides,
a river bursting seams;
i’m not afraid of standing still
if i’m the only one not moving.
i douse myself in you, my skin alight
with million dazzling shades of white
and nothing matters: time is swaying here.
i pause my beat for night on night:
we know morality is all there is to care for–
–and then you say mistakes can sparkle in the sun,
i need to run and leave you in my place:
a human obelisk.
Posted in excerpts
Tagged burstings, dazzling, human, mistakes, night, obelisk, poems, poetry, river, seams, skin, sparkle, white, you
we change. why do we do that? tell me truthfully and without needless words.
i spoke to you in a language you did not understand, in hope that your eyes would tell me what your lips couldn’t. in the end, your hands spoke, holding my flesh as if it were a vessel brimming with the very water of life.
i wonder how and why we have come to this river where the past merges with the future and washes over the present. more importantly, how did i leave Y behind with all his unread letters; and how did you find me amongst all the other grains of sand?
i’ve listened to too many sad songs, heard too many excuses and i spoke to Y on friday.
he came out with a gem when i told him that really, i had never lied to him, never told him i’ll be yours forever. he told me that he never lied either. a lie is something that is said with the intention of deceit.
clever boy. pah!
i stick to my two plus two: all my past hurt equals you. and i’m thankful.
and between the lapses in translation i’m convinced that nothing matters but me and you and your hands. they will find me all over again.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged again, all, amongst, and, behind, between, boy, brimming, came, change, clever, come, completion, convinced, could, deceit, did, do, end, equals, excuses, eyes, find, flesh, forever, friday, future, gem, grains, hands, have, he, heard, him, his, holding, hope, how, hurt, important, intention, language, lapses, leave, letters, lie, lied, life, lips, listened, many, matters, me, merges, more, my, needless, never, not, nothing, other, out, over, pah, past, plus, present, really, river, sad, said, sand, something, songs, spoke, stick, tell, thankful, that, they, this, told, too, translation, truthfully, two, understand, unread, very, vessel, washes, water, we, were, what, where, why, will, with, without, wonder, words, y, you, your, yours
how vain i should be to reread my own posts, but sometimes, late at night or early in the morning, i find myself scrolling through the past on the computer, mouthing the words or simply caressing them with my eyes. because within me there is something i have not yet understood. an undercurrent of a river lost in my old, unpracticed tongue.
rio de la plata maybe. or river of the sun.
even the sun has sunspots, darker on the background of virginal white; and so i have the blind spots: i always find them when i try. no light is enough to banish the spot of darkess on my sleeve: the drop of blood refusing to wash off in hot water. it would wash off in the cold, i know, but it’ll never get the chance.
chances are far and in between, don’t you know?
and i find myself every time, unexpected, like red peonies on a rose bush in may.
находжу себе кожен раз в шматку чорного хліба.
but what is there to find, other than the poems i had learnt by heart in years three and five. and seven. wordsworth’s daffodils.
the yellow vibrancy of life.
Posted in chapters of my life
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