Dissertation Blues

A thousand papers,

hundreds of books

Read over and over

Squeezing every drop

of significant thought

out of your brain

Search, research, reach

Writer's block

Eyes on screen

Hands on keyboard

Nothing but a dissertation blues

Take a stand

Take a walk

Face back pain

Endure it

Return

Back to the screen

Back to the keyboard

Nothing but a dissertation blues

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I upset people (This may be the first of a series)

I feel I upset many people. Maybe it is something I do, but the feeling I get is that what upsets them is the way I live, the choices I make. People get upset with me when they hear I don't believe in God. If I tell them that I once did, but have lost my faith after I lost my first child, a premature baby, they fail to grasp the complexity of it. They look at me with irritating condescendent pityful eyes and they think I can be "fixed." To be fair, maybe I fail to help them understand that after what happened to me, God as I came to know it and most people of Christian beliefs do, is of no use to me. God proved himself either nonexistent or useless to me when my first born died and when I almost followed him due to Eclampsia and Hellp Syndrome (Go ahead and google it! Unless you are doctor or had someone in the family who had this, you will never know it.) He did not save my baby and he did not spare me the excruciating suffering I had to endure. And if you think I...

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 ...

The child that did not stay

I remember expecting a child that never came, a child I never held in my arms. I remember expecting a child who would have his father's hair, his kind eyes. He would be curious of the world and I would follow closely all the things he would see with enchanted eyes. Everything would be new for his new eyes. Those were the words of a song about someone else's child, a song I used to listen to while waiting for this child. I remember dreaming of his future, of his smiles. I remember my hopes for him. He did not want me, this child. He did not stay. He was not interested in the playground in front of the building we live. He was not interested in having my hand holding his while he walked his first steps. He did not care about the flowers, leaves, little dry sticks that fall from the trees in our neighbourhood. He did not want to listen to the slightly out of tune lullabies I was going to sing or the stories I would read at bedtime. He did not even care for the milk, all th...

Inner Babel / Babel Interior

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