Aside

Hello world!

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This is my way of publishing my thoughts.

I’m not a writer but I’d like to post my writings to get feedback or rather leave something behind.

so…. THIS is my footprint, or blogged-literary-print, if you will.

Image: courtesy of Bill Edwards, panorama of Seattle Central Library “Living Room” space, Seattle WA

 

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Upon broken bones of a fallen soldier you’ll only see the cracks made there by a kiss. The child grew old by the harsh lashes her mother bested upon her mortality. I cried for the broken towers, for the rotten flesh of the hearts so forgotten life was never able to repay. The kings at the mountains never understood morality, never understood the price of a single bread. They simply proved our minds and hopes to us. I cried to all the pigeons perching at my window sill: ” send your best! A child has awoken”. But the mother simply drew the curtains shot. The child slept for the fear of truth. All the fathers knew not to meddle for they never truly cared. Loneliness is sweet. Like minded trees never grasped the weeping willow.

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The tip resisted the surge of thoughts on paper…for my pencil knew the ending…the black grains scratched through the last words: I am leaving this li…the tip broke…a tear in paper…a tear dropped on I dissolving it into a smudge as my life was…nothingness is far easier than death.

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You set my clock again at eight sharp,You closed my eye drops in a jar,I was afar…You baked my cake red with the blood of flamingos at winter,I blessed the dreams with a kiss,You went afar…I stopped baking…stopped smiling … ceased to eat…to exist…I was no more …. a woman no more…An empty shell gathering sand at the shore waiting for another wave…Unawares of the sun…the sand…the desert I called home…I was alone.ZB

“One day I’ll travel to the moon and spit on Earth,” said the kid.

“Why on Earth?” Asked the adult.

“Because I’m thirsty…,” the kid replied.

“I’ll help,” the adult promised like so many other unanswered promises no one keeps.

And the kid went on to become an adult but he never spat ever again.

ZB

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What if all the souls on the universe gathered into one single star and that star was lost in time. How would we find one another?

Among the faces in the pictures taken eons ago I couldn’t find a single smile directing at the camera except mine. But I never remembered if the smile was seeking a familiar face beyond the camera or I was alone.

Bleached dresses showed clouds moving on to another sky. I reached into the mud so that I would be able to make it rain again. Dirt is a necessary part of life. I’ve learned to never frown at a beggar’s face for perfection is an illusion we escape to when we are lonely. It grieves us.

My child gazed at me wondering why I was crying and laughing. The concept was lost. I was overwhelmed by so much life around me that death gave me hysteria.

Be aware of the wondering man for he carries a lighter. Our mortal wax is fragile.

Make a whole lot of sense when you laugh but never explain why you cry. People shouldn’t find out.

My butterfly ate a worm. The dog barked. The police whistled goodbye to security for in the city wolves had as much right as lambs.

Tigers walked with high heels they bought cheaply. Morning swerved away at the sight of my approach. I was carrying an umbrella. You never know. It might shine.

Extravagance left for London. Paris yearns for ice cream made in Qatar. Flags are burning. The crow soared to the eagle’s nest carrying food for the chicks. Tehran was dead. No body noticed for they were watching the world cup!

ZB

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The second the eyes focused on the stranger beyond the frame, the stranger became a friend. Yet from inside the eyes there was an another looking out, reaching for a bond which wasn’t there. The stranger had already awoken a third shadow. The mirror cracked and the pieces showered the sky. A black abyss was gazing in. Where did all the flowers go? “I hadn’t smelled them yet,” thought the first man.

ZB

Image isn’t everything

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She took the chair under the fan…climbed on … remembered to shut it off…descended…switched it off…mounted the chair…stood silently under the receding click click…tied the rope…observed the knot…her passion used to be untangling the yarn…nice change…took the loop by the neck…looked at the clock…at the strike of twelve…no sooner…no later…one minute left…took a deep breath…held it…let it go…inhaled…jumped…pain was the first thought…then came numbness…so fast pain mellowed into frenzied marshmallow…jumped back in the chair…released the loop…the arms were longer now…just the right length for the sleeves…job well done…untied the knot…hit the fan…the rope slithered down…it was getting hot again.

Social bridges or walls?

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Love is pain multiplied by a hundred stab wounds aiming at desires, tearing them apart to pieces lost in ambiguous abyss of regardes and stares, meanings lost. Life would be a lot less backbreaking if we told the tale of our hearts first hand. Commodity of our minds dared not. Oceans apart his eyes haunt me forever. Forks on the road tore my limbs but I let the wheels crush me to speak.

I wish …. you could see through me… my tongue is made only for suffocation. Knowing a hundred tongues made love all the same Greek to me.

Yearned, instead of ridicule, for the first time for held hands….

On a ball full of billions and yet I’m on Mars lost among red ashes of my fleshed sensation….

Chemistry is not the pull…just alchemy…

Happy and madly sad… now I see what they meant….