The Valley of Lilies

Curled at the foot of lunacy I question the veracity of reality
Out of whack chemistry aimless physics random biology mathematical progressions regressions lack of destiny
But if psychosis equals making of “it” what I please
Then you should carefully translate for me the consonants vowels irregularities of this language you taught me
And you should justify the arrogance you took in defining my senses
And you should not claim absolute truth into the absurd of this universe
Because I dread the possibility of it all being intrinsically resolute
Because I am so utterly vexed by what renders me alive
Because I indulge in my imperfections yours
In the remote prospect of reality being a dream of repressed memories of a perfect world
A fossilized expression of a collective being
Or perhaps a nonbeing force pulling a tad harder at the worn out seams of my existence

In these small hours of the night I sift my qualms through no rhyme or reason
Viscerally grasp that what I fear the most is losing my insanity
This endangered balance on the brink of an incomprehensible senseless abyss from which I bluntly afford to be who I am
This bent on what ifs that shamelessly pinches my adrenaline
This ground on which I stand aloof in the mist of it all be it what it may
Throwing another ranting fit of melancholy at the crossroads of your discrete emotions
When your sun rises or sets over a day that will be or has been one way or another
When you had other things to do think be a part of
Yet with a perfect albeit far fetched relation to me
The air I breathe the atoms I dislocate consume transform the genes I express
The space that doesn’t fold seamlessly over me as I am after all a blob in its fabric
Unlikely to be ignored because it exists within the tick-tock of the time both you and I share

And then
If my epidermis doesn’t quite separate me from you the valley of lilies the neighboring galaxy
Where does reality really fit in how does it play out beyond the threshold of confines
Could it be set in stone irrefutable immutable
Could it be more than a concept by which we live dream imagine question reason die
Plunge in the depths of misery ecstasy confusion certainty trite extraordinary idiosyncrasy madness


„I am human; nothing human is alien to me” – Terentius

“Hurt people hurt people.”
I heard this in a movie, a tad over a life ago
Remembered it just now, so lame, with this full moon
So poorly fitting into a nearsighted eye
Its cross-like spills, the horizontal one perfectly aligned
The vertical, always slightly slanted to the left
On the bottom, slightly longer
Slightly sad.

Oh, dear,
How many times you told me to give up melancholy
To crawl and cradle myself into the happy bent of bare instants
No past, no future?
Countless, I know.
No need to remind me
No need to pour the words again and again
No need to hyphenate your name to mine.
They’ll never make a whole.

I didn’t get it right away, you know
No punctuation
Which the adjective, which the verb
Only the universal noun, the people.
The mind then lingered, on its own
To grasp the trick, to come to peace with meaning
Gobbled it down before I could ignore it
And carry on… my bliss.

Lately, I filled my head with poetry
The kind of those regretful for not having done this or that
For getting old, for letting love slip by
Not biting into the velvety, ripe “peach” of life
Not risking an un-removable stain of fruit
Onto the collar of their immaculate shirts
Or a faint prickle on their once-plump lips.
But is it so?
Is it that they didn’t take a chance before their skin gave in
Or is it that the chance never came near ideal?

I know you’ll laugh
And “rest your case”
But I will tell you that I, too
Cringed at the lack of touch, and years subtly merged into decades
And irreversibility
And all that jazz
Yet I did take that “chance” although it pained.
You hurt
Hurt me
I did and do the same.

si nuca peretelui asta:

Incizie pe Vid

(Marius, am vrut sa compun o proezie cu subiect, special pentru tine, dar n-am reusit. Sper sa mearga si asta drept dedicatie de ziua ta… chiar daca nu stiu cand este, dar stiu ca este in regiunea asta generala a anului… La Multi Ani!)

In vacuumul acestui cosmar
Te sorb nesabuita
Deodata cu praful drumului cu frunzele cerul sunetele
Cu tot ce te incape.
Tu nu stii inca
Dar lumea ta s-a scurs prin taietura expiratiei icnite in saltul spre acel iluzoriu varf de lume.
Intelesurile toate sunt acum doar ale mele.

Ti le explic, totusi, cu voluptatea inutilitatii adevarurilor rostite fara noima, cu buzele palide de teama de a fi intelese, dar in urechile tale cuvintele mele incap ca o limba straina din care nu percepi altceva decat aerul dislocat de inflexiuni, ca o infiorare.

Pielea ti se abureste de placere si neinteles
Din amintiri
Izuri sleite te napadesc
Gusturi pareri nuante idealuri
Imbalsamezi vedenia mea in coaja de matase a unui fluture impietrit in chihlimbar.
Tu nu stii ca eu aleg arderea zborului.

Aripile imi sunt nesuferite in aceasta lume ermetica. Tot ce am sunt aceste bucati de cremene in care-mi faram degetele pana biruiesc arderea in care sa mistui intelesurile pe care ma rastignesc singura.

Imi pierd amprentele cu fiecare atingere pe miezul incandescent
Nu voi lasa in porii tai nicio urma a trecerii
Doar o parere
Caldura stinsa de deasupra focului istovit
Cuvintele care ma fac si ma desfac
In vacuumul acestui cosmar
In care tu nici nu stii ca ai intrat.




…and, for good measure, o pisica extraterestra pentru amuzamentul domniilor voastre:


*poza preluata de pe net.

cere si ti se va da

Hai, tine-ma de mana,
Sa impartim acesta respiratie banala pe jumatate
Si acest puls sarat,
Aceasta umbra a lunii tesite
Sa pice peste amandoi
Ca un vis inceput in capul meu
Si terminat intr-al tau;
Canta-mi in aceasta ureche surda
Deseneaza-mi pe nisip inceputul si sfarsitul
Si umplutura –
O spirala infinita
Pe care ma incolacesc,
Tinandu-te de mana

Simetria lui „if”

(if I’m not gonna say this I’d just as well catch on a blue fire and burn up my spine until a total consumption would quiet down forever the hidden me)
minte-mi cuvantul care-mi va lichefia lacrima in acest ascunzis
aluneca-ma prin sensurile orologiului tau
te rog
fii-mi sunetul pe lira, motivatia lui
gatul glasului prin care ma scurg catre…
(if someone was to ever tell me that the room I used to play in with Alice and Isabel, when I was a little kid, would end up being the room I made love to you as an old one, I would have said, god, you’re deranged – yet, this is such a small, circular world!)
gandeste-ma la marginea ei risipita pe gandul tau
pierde-ma doar ca sa ma gasesti din nou unde nu am fost niciodata
te rog
creste-mi alte aripi, direct prin suflet
poarta mea ideala catre…
(if you were to bend your head so the image of me gets to you slanted, would you perceive me as being aside from this world, broken by the median of all reasons?)
iubeste-mi doar pulsul de pe incheitura acestor motive
respira-ma cand aerul se sparge la colturi
te rog
fura-ma propriei mele fiinite, uitate
in drumuri impiedicate catre…
(if I was to tell you the truth, you’d break down into an infinite number of possibilities, out of which none would fit the notion of me divided by your desires)
bea-ma din fiecare cupa inchinata in cinstea dorintelor implicate
promite-ma doar altor lumi in care nu incap din acelasi motiv
te rog
crede-mi sangele care curge la deal, mecanic
in drumul catre…
inima ta

Ritual sferic

Imi lepad pielea pe aceste trepte curate
Le voi urca coborandu-le si invers
Ca intr-un desen al lui Escher
Ca un labirint imposibil intre mine
Spatiu si timp.

Ploaia si vantul imi vor desavarsi celulele
Ninsoarea va lua foc pe aceasta piele cruda
Maree lunare o vor infiora
Intunericul si lumina o vor implini
Deasupra acestui trup greu.

Din ea vor tasni intelesuri simple
Cuvintele vor ramane impietrite in gura
In limbi moarte in care tot ce se mai poate rosti
Intr-un strigat prelung
Este durerea nasterii.

Dincolo de ea apusul si rasaritul
Ma vor atrage in egala masura
Astfel incat sa ma misc in permanenta in cerc
Iar soarele sa-mi fie mereu peste umarul stang
Peste bataia de inima.

Din ea am sa-mi odihnesc privirea doar in linia curba
In luminile ochilor in care incap
Pe marginea fericirilor banale
Pe frantura imperceptibila a spatiului prin care ma strecor
Ca o aluzie ca sunt.

Pana se vor ascuti iar rotunjimile
Pana soarele imi va ramane mereu in urma
Pana mi se vor inmuia iar cuvintele in gura
Pana se va dezlipi pielea asta din nou
Sa o lepad inca o data pe trepte curate.



And… if you have no Valentine, happy Saturday!!!

prin contrast, dimineata…

Charles Aznavour Et pourtant

Un beau matin je sais que je m’éveillerai
Différemment de tous les autres jours
Et mon cœur délivré enfin de notre amour
Et pourtant, et pourtant
Sans un remords, sans un regret je partirai
Droit devant moi sans espoir de retour
Loin des yeux loin du cœur j’oublierai pour toujours
Et ton cœur et tes bras
Et ta voix
Mon amour

Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant

J’arracherai sans une larme, sans un cri
Les liens secrets qui déchirent ma peau
Me libérant de toi pour trouver le repos
Et pourtant, et pourtant
Je marcherai vers d’autres cieux, d’autres pays
En oubliant ta cruelle froideur
Les mains pleines d’amour j’offrirai au bonheur
Et les jour et les nuits
Et la vie
De mon cœur

Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant

Il faudra bien que je retrouve ma raison
Mon insouciance et mes élans de joie
Que je parte à jamais pour échapper à toi
Et pourtant, et pourtant
Dans d’autres bras quand j’oublirai jusqu’à ton nom
Quand je pourrai repenser l’avenir
Tu deviendras pour moi qu’un lointain souvenir
Quand mon mal et ma peur
Et mes pleurs
Vont finir

Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Et pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi
Pourtant, pourtant, je n’aime que toi…

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