Dreams that never are

Oh, she insisted, begged, pleaded

Yet, no interest, no reply

After, no explanation needed

No justification could apply

It was all there in the cold stare

In the blank expression of the face

No other moment can compare

To when alone you fall in space

She closed her eyes and heart and soul

She began falling

Ever slow

And I can hear her, though afar

Amidst life and its demands

Her cry for dreams that never are

Comments

Once

I once dated a werewolf Eyes like flashlights showing the path I once walked the path I found lost words I found lost pain I once threw my car from a bridge In the highest speed When street lights seemed like flying arrows and the water from the lake was a dark brick wall I once threw stones at the windows of the moon and sailed a boat of stardust in a lightless night I crossed the borders in disguise and spoke a million tongues I now decided to forget I once danced with a king on top of the highest tower No one ever saw the king No one, but me I once was a speck of dust I once was a grain of sand I was part of a hurricane And I landed on another land I once dreamt new dreams and wrote them on napkins I once wrote poems on spaceships and lies on pages of ancient books no one ever read I once took a look I once took a pick I once took a bite It did not do the trick ...

When a murderer lives inside your head

Schopenhauer says to live is to climb a mountain and when you see what is waiting for you on the other side of the mountain too early in life, you can never climb it the same way. I saw what was on the other side and decided I was simply not climbing that mountain anymore, unless pushed the way up. You wouldn’t realize that just by looking at me then. You wouldn’t see that I had quit. I would wake up, take showers, eat (actually there would be a lot of eating), go to work, do whatever obligation I was supposed to. I would even go out with friends or family. But if you looked really closer, you would realize I was only automatically responding to demands, except for the food. Food became my only source of pleasure. How was all the rest performed? At work, if there were tasks and deadlines, I’d do them, using no more than the basic skills required. As to my social life, it rested on the plans of others. They would say when and where to go. They would pick me up and bring me ho...

Chinese man

She got up and went to get a cup of coffee. “Damned headache!” Acute and deep, precise, the day ruined. - - As if a long, fine, pointy needle forced itself through my cranium, you know? A Chinese man with long mustache holding one point of the needle, manipulating it, pushing it very slowly. - - Why Chinese? Seriously, she could not believe it! A headache from Hell, dripping sweat after the coffee and that was the question? - - Why not? Is there a law against the Chinese? - I was just asking! - - It’s my pain, isn’t it? If it’s Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, what is the difference? - - Forget it! She regretted the rude reply, but did not apologize! Apologizing would require time, explanations, facing the Chinese man, pulling him by the mustache, immobilizin...

Inner Babel / Babel Interior

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