my noose-03.06.16

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*artwork- via docolucci.deviantart.com

 

When fantasy is so brilliantly blinding

I delightfully step up into my noose

Sweetest addiction of being stood up to

Is strong and present and oh so exciting

After all, there’s so much to lose

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cold home-13.01.11

*artwork-“embrace” by egon schiele

embrace

will i ever conquer the vibrant?

Caledonian sky was beautiful
sometimes i could feel free
and scared no more
but here i go, cold home
that feels alien
i’ve lost track of time
in my own 2.5 rooms
where i walk with my eyes closed at nights,
touching guidelines of walls.
my hands are different.
every piece of my body is unpleasantly new
though i am not renewed, tired.
may be this is the sense of freedom
freedom-like dungeon
underneath changing skies,
the city was vicious and i needed (to)
revenge.

i wonder what was it?
how lonely i felt embraced by the loved one.
how lonely my loved one has probably felt.

layered-4.10.10

*artwork-“smoke” by brigitte werner via pixabay.com

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for more than two hundred and seventy days
i pushed away, it was not easy.
funny it feels, the tips of stiff fingers tremble
and heart pounds so fast.
this face in front of me. still precious? or is it?
just impatience,
covered with thin layer of curiosity
covered with thick layer of urge to destroy.
everything’s so familiar
these feminine hands,
hiding behind ever present cigarette
and convenient smoke.
hello, roman.
i just wanted to say good-bye.
 

jerusalem for fool-25.06.10

*artwork-by gary kaleda

digital-profile

pure fantasy.
sunny winter days. my favorite.
ha!door opens and he brings the air in
for me to breath.
every time, virgin-like thrill
lusty love, lovely lust.
senses wide shut,
carefully covered
with precise amount of artificial sweetener.
yeah..well, the real is here ( or is he?)
morning coffee with silence OST
families, groceries. sink full of junk.

pretenders? or is it all that it takes?

i am unjust. the goodness is all over.
it’s only that… so difficult to let go
of imaginary passion,
for cosy warmth and promise(?)
of obscure togetherness.

julio cortazar. on jazz-26.01.10

*artwork- “relativity ” by m.c. escher via blogs.cornell.edu

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i did forget.
beloved  Cortazar, how funny does it work.
three lines by genius and it became so vivid…that chilly summer night in holy city.
i wear long brown dress
so dark and infinite to match the mood we share
we slowly walk, with nothing more to say
so miserably lost
two accidental strangers
then
the shelter of a bar, protecting sounds of jazz
i hide my tears in smile
you are unmercifully distanti sipped the shame. and swallowed.

and now, forever since,
i wish i could replay
the shelter of a bar, protecting sounds of jazz
while you fake fascination with the act
and as we wait for the distracting substance,
i put my hand on yours, excuse myself, get up
and leave.

how powerful it seems. now.

she says i’ve got to-17.01.10

*artwork- frustration by mehran roozbahni

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she says i’ve got to try to like this little girl
and i wonder, what is the way?
i wish i could friend her on facebook

she says i’ve got to stop pushing her away,
stop erasing her from this hard disk
on the back of my mind,
mossy used to say

she says i should be empathetic…
should i?
for something that i can not really grasp?
or remember?

coward.

i hide among all these names that barely have faces
just so i won’t have to see my own
and there they go
so precious so unimportant
i keep this puzzle of pieces with no unique form
i choose where to place them
while i lay in my bed and do not remember
whose stomach is pressed against my back.

ilan-3.01.10

*artwork-“Further up, further In” by sol kjøk via galleriramfjord.net

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i do not care. you can be anyone
when i close my eyes i do not feel
the difference.
eager to be held
and being lied to.
i close my eyes. you can be anyone
do not infect the air with consonants and vowels
the only lie i believe in is your hands
with eyes closed, they feel the same.
when you came to rescue me
the other night, i was glad
but it was not you i was waiting for.
and when you kissed my mouth,
smeared crowd of strangers around us,
i was not kissing you back.
and when i laid in that bed,
all frozen and burning,
it was not your stomach pressed against my spine.

my hair still smells like 1000 cigarettes
and my bed still have the imprint of
another illusion,
but it is your face i do not remember.
again.

happy new year-31.12.09

*artwork- “red couple dance” by naxart studio via fineartamerica.com

red-couple-dance-irina-march

still.
walled in comforting fears
my fruitful quest for rejection
won’t stop. i’d not give up
on you
so sweet, slap after slap
every word tastes like leather belt on my skin
leaving red marks that i collect and keep
carefully cataloged
and maintain them thoroughly.

we move, altering egos of cowardice.
my faceless men
your nameless women,
an endless fuel for
our dance of hurt and solace.

in the middle-28.12.09

*artwork- painting by andrew salgado via justimagine-ddoc.com/art

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i was having pulsing you, in me,
for long minutes, i believed
until
your phone rang and rang and rang
i asked to pick it up
and right away
i felt your flesh and your mind sliding out
from me
to her.

she was bleeding,
maybe loosing her baby.
i heard you say
” i am sorry, i can’t”
and the thought
“i could easily be in her shoes”

blew my mind

you were out,
out of me,
out of my bed, my room
my life.

yet not with her.
never taking sides.
always in the middle. 

i was silent.
you- eaten by guilt, every touch is an apology- asked
“what’s on your mind?”
“i am sad, for
you’re so eager to be the savior.
yet you are never truly there ”