the pattern-02.12.11

*artwork-“dark matter” by luca l. via studentartguide.com

dark-matter-charcoal

all the colors of mine
are not enough
to block the blackness
all the words i used to know
are wiped clean
by the persistence of your silence

so i get pulled, again
into turbulence of my dreads
fueled by vigor of your own

the story repeats itself
again and again
and again
vicious
cruel void
we are so powerless
in this love
love

you can not bear the most of me
and i want out so bad
but then you drop
the magic words
they work unfailingly
and i give in
give up
smiling
charmed, blinded by the sweetness of promise
and mute for some more
because there’s touch
it feels so god damn right
to get lost in our dizzy childish truths
and lies, so white, transparent almost
they help us through another day
of pretending

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who are you?-5.12.10

*artwork-“empathy”  by John Edward Marin via fineartamerica.com

empathy-john-edward-marin

 

who are you people?
countless names on countless pages.
is it all about comfort?
and why destroy freshly built basics?

he who likes Kurt Vonnegut and Milorad Pavic,
damn geniuses, i adorebeing adored
being the smart one
playing with
enchanting music attached to words that have no meaning
to me
and books
little book worm, devouring pages
under the blanket
that’s what i was
and now words are pale.

i want to be understood,
and, maybe, forgiven.

absurdistan-15.10.10

*artwork- by jiwoon pak via artparasites.com

jiwoon-pak

 

absurdistan.
my being is ridiculous country.
it’s easy: i merely want to be needed, important and
irreplaceable.
so that they won’t have a new girl, again.but, in the meantime, i am bored.
and everything around me seems
dull
and pointless.
people used to be.
and i once was
someone that i am not, anymore.
yet, i hold on to. clinging to something
that is not even memory.
primeval fright.
ever present anxiety.
so, i wait. i’m alert.
always ready for being turned away.
returned to
the manufacturer.


in a
 common cardboard box,
straight to unlovingness.

fairy-tale for a grown up-24.09.10

*artwork-“waiting for the sun” by cameron gray via fineartamerica.com

waiting-for-the-sun1-1200x1200

 

“pattern”, it is called.
her little personal drama.
all of a sudden – a whirlpool,
echoing voice of sticky old trauma.”don’t wait for me yet”
he asks.
well, it’s too late,
the mechanism’s on
her heart sings that
obnoxious,
moth-eaten song.

even in best families-20.09.10

*artwork-“acceptance” by ella prakash via mojarto.com

duality?
ambiguity?
multiple personality?
nah, just all in one.
disordered.
i am as complicated as a shampoo.

beloved and be-hated villains,
sour and sweet voices
they build and then destroy,
occasionally sharing the same sentence.
boy, do i love it!

major fuck up.
production flaw at mama’s factory.
but!
another wise man said, that
in best families (sh)it happens, too.

the vow-23.07.10

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

growth-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.

hungry-02.03.10

*artwork-“Christina’s World” by Andrew Wyeth.

christinas-world

imagine metal lid over a deep hatch.
heavy. rusty. covered with dust. way out of use.

i tried my best to keep it closed
pushed with all the strength i had
and, boy, i may be strong with my eyes shut
but i received the permission, and i can not hold it anymore

__________________
it is free
and it is endless
and i don’t even understand what it feels like
to feel.

she says i’ve got to-17.01.10

*artwork- frustration by mehran roozbahni

e1c9846e3a4b4193451427080de1ead4

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.

stas-6.12.09

*artwork- selfportait by stas korolov

stas

 

and there he goes painting and drawing and sketching his own face again and again and again, trying to understand who he is. every single day. he doesn’t try to pretend, to make it look prettier, more appealing, more attractive. no. he wants it real. with all these lines and black spots and dry skin. he wants it real. so he paints it with oil on canvas and with charcoals on white sheets of paper and with an ink pen in his old notebooks. hundreds of drawings. with different facial expressions, with different lighting, with all kinds of objects and people around him. and he goes on and on and tries to find sense and meaning in this inconsistent mix of flesh and desires of bones and emotions of secretions and hopes of functioning body and dysfunctional soul.

sweet moses-06.12.09

2017-01-06-15-21-45

he says “do you know this song” i am every woman”?yeah? so i think that i am an every man”. mossy. sweet moses.

he drinks a lot of water and likes to go to bed early. he appreciates good food. and loves to have a lot of good sex. he does not drink alcohol. he likes to be in control. also he does not smoke.

mother of his child once said to the boy “your dad may surprise you. your dad is full of surprises”. he calls her “the mother of my boy”. but she has a name. her name is michal.

mossy writes a book. about his life and about his life to be. and once in two weeks he travels all the way up north to visit eladi. for the whole weekend. mossy is a good dad.

he has some story to tell. and he likes telling it. he likes to be heard. he is the man of million faces. he laughs very loud. and he uses an expression “shut up” every time when he smells cynicism in the air.

mossy is a good man. he likes people. he is lovable. and loving. he doesn’t care to share. he has enough love inside. still, he trusts nobody.

he likes to see himself as a therapist. he was raised to face the reality, so this is what he likes doing: holding the mirror and showing the truth. he will cry with you, but he won’t let you run away. he is all about growing up. he likes to be that facilitator.

mossy’s got it going on. he is attractive. mossy is the man. girls like him a lot. often he feels like being objectified. he says “i want a girl to want me not because i am a black man, but because i am a man”.