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
and with the blurring quality of a spanish sunset
i ought to stop dreaming of the miracle
they [nora knows] don’t happen ever
no fool but i expects
a man to build a roof over the pedestal
everyone knows statues have no eyes to worry about rain
sleep like trauma washing over me washing dishes
as if salt could wash away a man-made stain
what call you this
a fading jaded tan line of black bags under the eyes
what am i now
a landing strip stripped bare so there!
Posted in excerpts
Tagged about, am, and, away, bags, bare, black, blurring, build, but, call, could, dishes, don't, dreaming, ever, everyone, expects, expendable, eyes, fading, fool, happen, have, i, jaded, knows, landing, like, line, made, man, miracle, no, nora, now, ought, over, pedestal, poems, poetry, quality, rain, roof, salt, sleep, so, spanish, stain, statues, stop, strip, stripped, sunset, tan, there, they, this, to, trauma, under, wash, washing, what, with, worry, you
it’s time for answers. or questions. whichever.
a fellow writer inspired me to think about a few. and they started the clock tick-tocking inside my mind: what did a girl like me want anyhow? what is the dream, the true ideal?
1. i’d like a picture of you on my windowsill by my bed: to keep, to hold, to treasure. it will be my reminder that you exist and when i wake up in the middle of the night, wondering if i dreamt up my whole life, i want it there to touch. it’ll be solid in my hands. a relic. and it’ll be in a mosaic picture-frame we’ve yet to buy. in barcelona or in paris (just because i like the way you say it) or in a magic place far away.
2. i’d like to have you on call, running to me whenever i need you there and sometimes just because. you know: for no reason, just because i want to be in your arms where it’s never lonely.
3. and i want you to have eyes for nobody else but me, following me, stalking me, penetrating me anew with every gaze. i want them to ask me for affirmation of my love every morning and i want them to drown me whole, as if they were not eyes but lagoons of clear-blue water in devon, on hot summer afternoon, when all you want is to immerse yourself whole in water .
4. but more than anything, i’d like to know that this is where you want to be: here with me.
5. that will be all.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged about, affirmation, afternoon, all, anew, answers, anyhow, anything, arms, ask, away, barcelona, be, because, bed, blue, but, buy, by, call, clear, clock, devon, did, dream, dreamt, drown, else, ever, every, exist, eyes, far, fellow, few, follow, frame, gazee, girl, hands, have, here, hold, hot, ideal, if, immerse, inside, inspire, it, just, keep, know, lagoons, life, like, lonely, love, magic, me, middle, mind, more, morning, mosaic, my, need, never, night, no, nobody, not, Paris, penetrate, picture, place, questions, reason, relic, reminder, running, say, solid, sometimes, stalking, started, summer, than, that, them, there, they, think, this, tick, time, tock, touch, treasure, true, up, wake, want, water, way, were, what, when, whenever, where, which, whichever, whole, will, windowsill, with, wondering, writer, yet, you, yourself
will anybody tell me if i’m missing out on life?
will anyone write me a letter just so i know?
and everybody seems to be making a film, a compilation of their thoughts right here, right now. irony is, i’m wasting my words on the wind, across the telephone wires that stretch inside my head. and when i am brave enough to speak my words out, they are spoken to you alone. what about the rest of the world? how will they ever know?
you made a film with your friends. i guess that’s what you do in youth.
me? i used to leave my colouring books blank for fear of spoiling them. funny me.
and whenever creativity came to me, i wrote the words, drew the pictures on scraps of paper. i still have some of them. little pieces of my mind written in quickhand.
and though none of them relate to you, all that i remember of X is there: they are silent exultations, utterances of pain and dreams. they are free.
sometimes, i still wish i coloured those pictures in.
and sometimes i know there’s no use wishing: it’s all too late now. i’ve sketched my life out in this morning sunshine. whatever happens now was always meant to be.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged about, across, all, alone, always, am, and, anybody, anyone, are, be, blank, books, brave, came, coloured, colouring, compilation, creativity, do, dreams, drew, enough, ever, everybody, exhultations, fear, film, films, free, friends, funny, guess, happen, have, head, here, how, in, inside, irony, is, just, know, late, leave, letter, life, little, made, making, me, meant, mind, missing, morning, my, no, none, now, of, out, pain, paper, petry, pictures, pieces, prose, quickhand, relate, remember, rest, right, scraps, seems, silent, sketched, so, some, sometimes, speak, spoil, spoken, still, stretch, sunshine, telephone, tell, that, the, their, them, they, this, those, though, thoughts, to, to be, too, use, used, utterance, wasting, what, whatever, when, whenever, will, wind, wires, wish, wishing, words, world, write, written, wrote, xthere, you, your, youth
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
Tagged always, background, banish, be, because, between, blind, bush, caressing, chance, cold, computer, daffodils, darker, darkness, de, don't, drop, early, enough, even, every, eyes, far, find, five, get, has, have, heart, hot, how, i, in, know, la, late, learnt, life, light, lost, may, maybe, me, morning, mouthing, my, myself, never, night, not, old, on, other, own, past, peonies, plata, poems, posts, red, refuse, reread, rio, river, rose, scrolling, seven, should, simply, sleeve, so, something, sometimes, spot, spots, sun, sunspots, than, them, there, three, through, time, tongue, try, undercurrent, understood, unexpected, unpracticed, vain, vibrancy, virginal, wash, water, what, when, white, within, words, wordsworth, would, years, yellow, yet