dedicated to momi vaknin, a man who creates bread-16.07.11

*artwork-“le regret” by charbel samuel aoun



another kind eyes decorated with a smile
to celebrate all the good things
that are out there,
made all the bad things that are in me
rise. shamelessly.
enclosed in my own self
i laugh out loudly
waking up all the demons,
and scaring off all the angels,
who guard no more.
i laugh out loudly,
watching loads of instances
of choices that were never made
dancing, swirling with the dust
of chances that were never taken.

the shadow of nicole and marrast-04.02.11

*artwork-  “impostor” by leslie ann o’dell via


being displeased
tiny bug bites within
feeds on disappointment
eats frozen invoiced words
wormish sleeky tales
of illusions that won’t ever bring light
unfriendly friends
sly enemies
hello, i say
when they come so close
that i can touch with my bare hands
feel through steely hearts
look into their eyes
inhale their lies
this stream of  hollow promises
destined to die quietly
but my stomach
holds hope, in the farthest rooms
of the reddish matter
that’s called intestines
i like to show it off
and to pretend
being the fair one.

the vow-23.07.10

*artwork-“growth”, digital art by anastasiya malakhova


the moment you were gone
the voice of my mind was heard again.
so tiny and so weak, yet, it is here.
i’m thrilled to have it back,
to execute my grief
and comprehend its startling solace.

so many tears, i never knew i could,
but i do feel so much
i’m happy
to grow
and come across my brand new greenest leaves.
the agent of a change,
no other choice for me.
i’ll hold that mirror, forever, if it takes
and when they’re ready-
i set them free to search.

and you became so ripe, so willing to explore and face
your own incubus.
my VIP, now you begin your journey.
i will be out there.
just as you asked.
i’ll keep an eye on you,
won’t let you fade away.

julio cortazar. on jazz-26.01.10

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



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
the shelter of a bar, protecting sounds of jazz
i hide my tears in smile
you are unmercifully distant

i 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.


*artwork- “anguish” by darren johnson via



between third cup of coffee and unimaginary anguish
i try to escape from my own prison
words echoing in my room
said and unsaid
as i walk around, lost in my own fortress
not recognizing this space,
i am a stranger
to my own thoughts, so familiar, so

i pushed out and away,
and now, left in my beloved solitude
i am full of hatred
that can not find its way to

me or you,
all itchy
i wish to scratch you out
to leave this incapable pale skin
and find a new place
to contain my rusty world of

scared baby with a head shaved
and legs tied to a bed that is everything
scared baby, that waits for a savior to come
in sterile room, with windows ever closed
and smell of lost hope
where every minute is an eternity
and every touch is love deprived


in the middle-28.12.09

*artwork- painting by andrew salgado via


i was having pulsing you, in me,
for long minutes, i believed
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 ”

i am sorry II-23.12.09

*artwork-“the art of rejection and acceptance” by jack wallen via


Mozzy  S. says:
i came here with my heart in my my hands
i came here with my mind in my mouth
but i’d leave here with my heart in my chest
and i’d leave here with my mind in my head
my tongue has so much to say
but in this land of rule it cannot find its way
my heart was pure all along
my mind was pure all along
they would stay purified
and me………….i’ll do just fine.

love deprived whore on a days of hecate-15.12.09

*artwork-“don’t take my sunshine away” via tumblr


sometimes i wake up in the mornings and i just know that it is going to be a bad day.



or, filled with dismay and anxiety.

and then everything gets slow.

arthur says these are the days of Hecate. so that i am sensitive during. and, in general, sensitive.

gera calls it “love deprived whore, with her heart locked”. that is also a way to put it.

it’s been a year since i am tending  to myself.


sometimes it seems that i do hear something.

is this how breaking through feels?

today i am restless again. i am not barren, but i can not give birth. there is something inside, yet it is unable to come out.

i am not letting it go.




and once again i lost myself
floating astray inside this tempest.
bustan – the garden of carmel-
is where gutless drawn for shelter.
i watched them,
hearing no sounds.
forever children
in their 30-s.
my bare feet were reminiscing
forgotten stings of wooden dance floor.
obstructed crowd of “enlightened”
and me, among them,
feeling awkward.
my frozen fingers were caressing
cheap glass of substance filled with sadness.
thus, hostile body went on mourning
over once present sparkle.

while absent, yet, i was observing
these aging girls, mindlessly dancing.
i choked on envy, realizing,
that have you been here without me,
you could have taken any of them.