12 replies to this topic

[Iva]

I'm somehow very conscious about posting my art on this forum, while I have no problem posting it elsewhere, strangely enough. Perhaps because people read too much into it? Anyway, here are some of my recent works, will post older stuff...maybe.

The Daughter Of Air

I’m daughter of the air
In the land where no one smiles
So I’ll never get There.

I’m daughter of the air
We hate what’s unknown,
I like the cross I bear.

Once I’m there, you’ll be elsewhere,
That is what you said
And that’s what a part of me believes.
The other part, however,
is spinning on a rope,
Electrifying hope,
…gives, gives, gives.

I’m daughter of the air
Yet I happen to be blind
So I’ll never get There.

I’m daughter of the air
Breaking into a sand castle.
Have a new page to tear?

Glued back in my hands,
Glimmers with guiding light
…my thirteen-storey lighthouse.
The back of it, however,
Is just dark and blank
My way’s always been the better way….
And then? And then? And then?

The following piece is breaking a common rule. There's a mixture of plural and singular, but it's for a very good reason. On my blog, I have not shared what this p..m is about, but in order to justify myself for things I criticise others about, I will have to explain.

The main character is a large, lonely semi-highway bridge located about 60 kilometres from where I live and an inspiration to me ever since the moment I've first seen it...curiously, this the longest bridge on the whole Danube, yet it's nameless. It is usually refered to as the bridge near the small town closest to it. At some point, the bridge will get a pair, because it's too narrow to be a highway bridge (it would need three more lanes). Since this bridge was symbolising many things, plus it actually survived the 1999 NATO bombardment and was the first thing in the whole country to be repaired; the fact that there will be two of them is changing the whole outlook of it.


A real concrete hearts

I’ll be your return.
I’ll be your departure,

I am a thin, thin, line,
from north to south,
from love to cry.
I never sleep.

Dizzy dreams with wind in my face,
sound of tamburitza in the backwater,
a couple of bites of Orly zander.
Fairy-tales on too many high heels,
The End Of The World nearby,
A dream where no rust can wander.

Once upon a time they tried to kill me,
but nobody can succeed in killing me.
It was a cold lonely April night
And nobody heard my cry for help.
They knew they would inevitably die.
They knew I would be the one to survive,
though I appear to be a sole lonely star,
each single big nest is too far.

Water faeries were singing,
Alongside the ducks were quacking,
And the lost lambs were bleating,
As pieces of concrete were swishing.
I have no eyes; nevertheless I closed them,
Once I opened them, I was alive,
But everyone else was dead.

One truck.
Two trucks.
Three trucks.
Four trucks.
Five trucks.
Six trucks.
Seven trucks.
Eight trucks.
Nine trucks.
Ten trucks.

A frozen crane
hibernates.
A new day has come.
Frozen cranes
Are hibernating.
New days have come.

One truck this way, one truck that way.
Two trucks this way, two trucks that way.
Three trucks this way, three trucks that way.
Four trucks this way, four trucks that way.
Five trucks this way, five trucks that way.

Monastery flowers were blooming,
a bunch of wind sings were mumbling,
Queues would stop and swear,
People would hit, nail and tear.
I have no ears; nevertheless I muted them,
Once I opened them, nobody was there
Except for me and…just another, confused me?!

Once upon a time, I was lonely and patched up,
but no one had killed me.
And some odd, odd decade had arrived,
Where everyone was running in a craze,
And looking at me, in a daze.
How do I even stand?
How do I even live?
Despite being able to tie dreams to real world
I was never enough for them.

I am thin, thin, lines,
from north to south,
from love to cry.
We never sleep.

I’ll be your departures.
I’ll be your returns.




Never On Your Own

All the honey you’re going to…waste,
All the doors going to close,
All the blood you’re going to taste…stupid!

Stupid.
Stupid.

Don’t give your hand.
Look to the left.
Look to the right.
Don’t accept any rings.
Be on your own.

All the sprouts wilthing,
All the dreams burning up,
All the wounds covered with pus…stupid!

Stupid.
Stupid.

Don’t pull the trigger.
Look to the front.
Look to the back.
It’s not good to be the first.
Be somewhere on the side.

There’s no use, you don’t hear me…stupid!




Christina, it’s Maya

Christina, it’s Maya
I was wondering if you’d come outside?
I have something you’ve never seen before
It will take you to the bottom of the sea
And you won’t even have to move a toe
But you’ll get really, really, really wet
You have to try, you simply have to give it a go
Just go and slam the door
And swallow the key…
Though you might need it someday.

Maya, it’s Christina
I was wondering if you’d come outside?
I have secret treasures on the top of a mountain
And a different way to move without moving a toe
I can always ride on waves and not get wet at all
I have to break the cage, I simply have to go
I’ll go and lock the door
And I won’t swallow the key…
Though I might not need it again.

[hope]

^^ I love the story about the old bridge, Iva. It's a great story of survival... filled with symbolism of all that is steadfast, dependable, solid and enduring..very inspirational and thanks for sharing : )

Re: the poem itself, I really like your first two paragraphs -especially the opening two lines, which are simple and beautiful - but taken together, both paragraphs capture a real sense of loneliness and stoicism.

[ezionretaw]

really good job iva. i like daught of air and really like a real concrete hearts. especially more so because it has a correlation and significance to the nato bombing. i would like to see some of your pictures that represent your writings. i think they'd make a great book. or at least a cool pdf

[Iva]

These two are kind of complementary in some way...covering disasters.


The Only Red Apple

Don’t give in, INES.
If you bite the apple, it will be bright red
And there’s never been a red apple in the world.

Don’t turn around, please, it’s terrifying,
And there’s no one to harvest the fruits,
shadows tear the silence and I hear weeping.

Someone’s drowned in an empty pool
Some fires will never be put out
Someone’s fallen out of a rusted wheel
All these prayers, will they be fullfilled?

We’ll be nibbling on wormwood for years to come,
can’t you see how bitter it really is?
And where did all those
playdoh-made children come from?

Ask the leader why is his nose red,
ask him what he’s eaten this morning
and if he was allowed to
and why he’s feeling nauseous?

We burried the killer.
We packed him in a lead tomb,
but he will outlive each and every one of us.

Turn around freely, it’s behind you, anyway
It has beautified all those lonely fruits
And it already has future screams all planned.

Someone’s swallowed by a fish under the bridge,
some dolls will always have their hair unkempt,
someone’s died at the other end of the continent,
some souls don’t even know they were written off.

We’ll be nibbling on wormwood for years to come,
can’t you see how bitter it really is?
And where did all those
assymetric women come from?

Ask yourself what happens if you don’t pull a homer,
We’re eating that red apple
that was not meant to run away.



His Mother, A Cloud

Mommy,
there's only me
and a man three streets away
and this is the plaza of lost dreams...
tiled with my sorrow.

Mommy,
please do tell me
when you'll cry and
I will pick up your tears...
and the tears of those there with you!

If the sky opens up above our garden
which you used to love so much
that's where the most fragnant cherries shall grow.

If the sky opens up above the harbour
where you used to take me to
that's where only the goldfish shall swim.

Mommy,
I'm whispering to each single raindrop,
knowing that you're there
and even though you're no longer here...
I don't want you to leave me.

Mommy,
I picked up all rain water,
I put a picture of you together
and I'm waiting for you to speak to me...
look, you smiled back at me, too!

If this dark sugar candy floss
never appears above my head again
this will be a much, much better world.

If you remain in my dreams
which they've stolen from us that morning
this will be where only love comes from.

[Iva]

hope, on Jan 19 2010, 12:26 PM, said:

^^ I love the story about the old bridge, Iva. It's a great story of survival... filled with symbolism of all that is steadfast, dependable, solid and enduring..very inspirational and thanks for sharing : )

Re: the poem itself, I really like your first two paragraphs -especially the opening two lines, which are simple and beautiful - but taken together, both paragraphs capture a real sense of loneliness and stoicism.

Thank you. The actual symbolism is in some sort of a vortex with weird fairy tale and pure nonsense; both in order to hint that the bridge and its future twin are childish, compared to all people who were involved.

I bet some critic would say that it's not normal to mix styles like this, next to the obvious abnormality of mixing singular and plural.

Here's a clip where you can see both bridges:

And here's a photo I took myself in 2005 and uploaded to Wikimedia, I don't mind it being public domain, it was taken with my old 3Mp camera anyway.

ezionretaw, on Jan 25 2010, 08:23 PM, said:

really good job iva. i like daught of air and really like a real concrete hearts. especially more so because it has a correlation and significance to the nato bombing. i would like to see some of your pictures that represent your writings. i think they'd make a great book. or at least a cool pdf

That's what I was initially planning, a PDF, given that it's hard to get an actual poetry publisher here (those who do publish poetry mostly do it for children of their friends and through other similar "connections", go figure...); but I talked to someone who's a publisher (actually hoping she could give me a deal, but looks like she didn't get that hint) about an e-book and she said that I have to register myself somewhere and that I actually need to be a taxpayer in order to protect my rights on an e-book or any similar work of art?! I am yet to look further into this as it's kinda ridiculous.

I don't draw that much, mostly because it requires time, I'm more of a cartoon-type of a person, and you can see some of my cartoon work on Flickr. It's sort of bizzare, e.g. the thing that I did last year as a mockery of Valentine's day:



I know, it's gross.

[Iva]

New camera...bad weather, so that's why I've only been taking cat photos so far.

[morven]

The first photo of the cat is great, I love it.
And about the gross Valentine cartoon - it's pretty cool, I think. ^^ It reminded me of a thing I read somewhere - someone said that around Valentine's Day they saw a lavatory seat at a discount, decorated with hearts. A perfect gift for your loved one.

[Iva]

Thank you.

Jumps Into The Raging Fire

Life’s as soft as flowers on a meadow,
Life’s as white as piles of mountain snow,
Life’s as smooth as well-polished jewels,
Life doesn’t hurt and it never burns,

And we used to jump into everything,
We weren’t afraid of anything, at all!
Jumps into the raging fire,
As if everyone was perfectly equal.
Do you remember that?
Do you remember that?

Life’s as sweet as the sweetest of wines,
Life’s as sophisticated as fur of an ermine,
Life’s where food and water don’t come first,
Life’s where only one thing can quench your thirst.

And we used to catch everything in flight,
Not being doubtful of anything, really so!
Looping above shimmering stars in the night
Suddenly seem to be forgotten long ago.
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?

Oww, bunny, I forgot it again…
…you have no ears. My poor dear!

[Iva]

Tako mi se plavo svetlo

Tako mi se plavo svetlo
prolama kroz sve kapilare
i ubija i poslednji tračak duše
kad se setim svega.

Plava bajka, slična plavoj grobnici,
samo davi na potpuno drugi način,
kako se sve u trenutku promenilo!

Tako mi se plavim svetlom
otvara put kroz tvoju jazbinu,
ono obasjava i poslednji tračak nade
i nigde više nema ničega.

I onda ćeš mi reći
da to jeste plavo svetlo,
ali ne ono na koje mislim,
jer su ga mnogi promašili,
a oni koji nisu,
njima samo svetle zvezde
i negde drugde se gnezde.

Bezveze.
Mislila sam da je to pravo svetlo,
poput onoga na kraju tunela…
…i onda je buka postala jača
i udario me je avetinjski voz.

Gde je sad to gnezdo?
I gde su sad te zvezde?
Ova je pogrešna!
Zašto plavo nije plavo kad je plavo?

________________________________

I So Feel The Blue Light

I so feel the blue light
Breaking through my blood vessels,
Killing the very last bit of soul
When I remember it all.

Blue fairy-tale, similar to a blue tomb
Is suffocating in a completely different way,
How it all changed in a mere second!

I so feel the blue light
Opening the way through your lair,
Shining on the last glimmer of hope,
And there’s nothing left.

And then you’ll tell me
That it is blue light
But not the one I thought of,
Because many got it wrong
And those who didn’t
Their only light are the stars
And they’re nesting elsewhere.

Lame.
I thought it was the real light,
Like the one at the end of a tunnel…
…and then the noise became louder
And I got hit by a gost train.

Where is the nest now?
And where are those stars now?
This one’s wrong!
Why isn’t blue blue when it’s blue?



Ae Ae Oe Oe

I am not special
Nothing I can do
It’s nobody’s fault,
It’s conservative upbringing!
(Yeah, riiiiight…)

I can’t
Onje under sponje,
Knyooka over klyooka.
Ae, ae…oe, oe!

I can’t
Groozma to troozma,
Mrbnya while drbnya.
Ae, ae…oe, oe!


__________________ ?

Hello hello hello hello hello
My flower’s yellow yellow yellow yellow yellow
It’s true.
From you.

All right, all right, all right, all right
My flower’s white white white white white
It’s never
Forever.

You dig all day,
You dig all night,
But you’ll never recover
What was never there
You’ll never bury
What’s always been there
What’s always been a part of you.

Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
I dig you.

Don’t bury me!

Did I ever live in you?
At least for one single moment
Did I ever dream with you?

You’re always living in me
Even though you completely changed me
I is always I. I is always I.

You can bury it, but no use
I know what it was and I have it.
I keep it inside, it’s killing me.

You can fire it up, but no use
I know what it is and I have it
I keep it hidden, it weighs a lot.

Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
I dig you.

Don’t bury me!

I could give you rain
Of black locust flowers in May
But you don’t want me to.

I could take your pain
And bury it under the ground
But you don’t want me to.

I could teach you to read
In the way you have never read
But you don’t want me to.

I could put the pieces together
In the way nobody ever did
But you don’t want me to.

You don’t want me to
You don’t want me to
You don’t want me to

Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
I dig you.

Don’t bury me!

I ate that plant and you buried me
Without even letting me speak
You’re so strong, yet you’re so weak.

You buried all the traces, marked me unsafe
So you’d never come back again
You talk too much, yet are afraid to speak.

Next time petals fall, I’ll be alone
Like I always am and always will be
I don’t need a miracle, I know life’s bleak.

Next time honey bees arrive, I’ll have company
They’ll collect their poison and go away
I caugh out mud and bugs and I feel sick.

Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
Dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig-I-dig
I dig you.

Don’t bury me!


Spit And Glue It Back

What a lie,
What a lie,
Spit and glue it back,
That’s not a solution.
And we all believed it.
More or less everyone.
Suddenly it’s all so white
And it was blacker than black.

That just can’t last,
That just can’t last,
Spit and glue it back,
Everything turns around and schluss!

You don’t stick cotton in holes.
You don’t cure tooth ache with honey.
You don’t saw wounds with mustard.
You don’t rewrite history with fairy-tales.

Ten steps forward,
Then a rubberband takes you back.

Ten steps forward,
Then a rubberband takes you back.

Ten steps forward,
Then a rubberband takes you back.

Ten steps forward,
Then a rubberband takes you back.

Slingshot – gunshot – cryalot.

Slingshot – gunshot – cryalot.

Slingshot – gunshot – cryalot.

Slingshot – gunshot – cryalot.

Black is not white,
It can only turn too grey.

Black is not white,
It can only turn too grey.

Black is not white,
It can only turn too grey.

Black is not white,
It can only turn too grey.

What sorrow,
What sorrow,
Scratch and unglue,
That was very easy
And suddenly all see it
More or less everyone
Suddenly it’s all so black
And it was whiter than white.

That just shouldn’t last,
That just shouldn’t last,
Scratch and unglue,
Make it white again, please!

You close holes by not looking down,
You cure tooth ache by pulling tooth out,
You sew the wounds with strong thread,
History will always be history.


Up On The Roof

You have this amount of time to say what you want
I will count every single second
Because we don’t have much time,
Everyone gets a piece,
And that’s it.

I know, I’m like everyone else
You picture us all in identical clothes,
You carve us all the same lifelines,
You assume we have same ideas and intentions,
You see the same fake smiles in all,
But think about it, is it really so?
I can do without this uniform,
I can do without this mask.
I’m not afraid.

I’m not afraid of heights,
No, I’m not afraid of heights,
I’m afraid of the depths,
They’re bottomless
And unchanging,
Regardless of what you say.

Look, there goes another of your robots…
Straight into the raging fire,
They aren’t really worth relying on.

I’m not afraid to talk,
No, I’m not afraid to talk,
I’m afraid of not talking,
It’s eternal,
Since is horror,
And it gives a wrong impression.

Look, there goes another of your robots…
Straight into the raging fire,
They aren’t really worth relying on.

I’m not afraid to love,
No, I’m not afraid to love,
I’m afraid of bitterness,
It’s unforgivable,
And hard to sweeten up,
And you seem somewhat bitter.

Want me to jump?
Wait a bit there,
Aren’t I supposed to differ?
I’m not of the jumping kind
I won’t jump if you say jump,
Since when has that been a problem?

Oh yes…it’s clear to me now!
They’re here only so
They could say they were here,
And that will keep them happy,
Well, it wouldn’t keep me happy.
It won’t keep me happy.

Look, there goes another of your robots…
And another…
And another…
And another…

Have you gone mad?
Don’t push them into fire!
What kind of a commandeer are you?
And your limited time’s up!

Yes, it is up,
But we’re both still here
Up on the roof,
Aren’t we?




Roses All Around Europe

This is one special spring,
Roses are blossoming around Europe,
And there’ll also be a world cup!
I don’t collect don’t collect collect the stickers
But I prefer to collect you!?
when are you going to collect some of me?!

This is one special night
For all the special girls
With roses and kisses to give!

I don’t need no roses,
I am a rose myself
I paint myself red
I still have the ribbon, even
I would tell you something
I would tell you a lot
But I have someone follow me
You know who that could be
You know who that is.

Spin around,
Roll around,
Run around,
Until you lose control
Hit the wall, hit the wall
Set yourself free, set yourself free
Then there’s pixie dust
All over the roses
All over the rest of us.

I cannot fly,
No, I cannot fly,
I have no pixie dust,
I have no wings,
I was never really special.

But starting tonight, everything falls apart,
A vertical line is being drawn,
We had the wrong drink,
We fell from the wrong star,
We rode on the back of a wrong angel,
And that’s why I’ll soon have those wings, too.

Where have I flown?
Has it always been like this?

I have never seen this much rain,
I have never seen such big flowers,
I have never seen this many people,
They appear to be following something,
Or as if they were running away.

Perhaps they’ll never return,
Perhaps they’ll never bloom again,
Perhaps they won’t have a reason to return,
Perhaps they won’t have a reason to bloom.

This is one special spring,
Roses are blossoming around Europe,
And there’ll also be a world cup!
We are not in, we are in, we are in.
But…but…I am cheering for you!?
When are you going to cheer a bit for me?!




Nightingale

Stop bleeding your heart out on my pretty roses,
stop cleaning the dirty water I’m drinking,
stop bringing me edelweiss and dragonflies,
stop it, you bitch,
stop it, you worthless piece of waste.

I can’t stand red roses,
I can’t stand them,
I can’t stand them.

Stop watering red roses with tears of your death,
Stop dirtying up clear water with your drowning,
Stop coming over without bringing anything,
Stop it, you scumbag,
Stop it, you most useless creature ever.

I can’t stand dew on the flowers,
I can’t stand it,
I can’t stand it.



Mala Distordiae

I have this red, red apple
And I got it for myself
I will hide it from you
I have a cloak of invisibility.
I don’t need any of you,
Just a mirror and my own hands,
A hole in my head and a canvas
And images will project and blend.

I don’t take apples from strangers.
Marmalade yesterday, marmalade tomorrow, but not today.
I can mould this apple any way I want.
And all I want you to do is to shut up and go away.

I have this green and yellow apple
And I got it just for you
I will hide it from honey bees,
I have picked it right from a tree.
We really, really, really need you,
It’s like an eternal truce in a war
How come you do not want this apple
After I’d made it all it could be?

I will catapult it right into your hands
Yes, this fence will always be a fence
But apple is love and there are many things it mends
Nothing can surpass your defence, I’m not a living offense.

Here’s this apple,
I got it for you,
I cleaned it carefully,
I made sure it fell from a tree.
I made sure there are no worms in it.
Please have a bite, please have a bite.


Solar neutrino problem

He crossed all of the seven seas,
Pushed away luminous lady in clouds
Flew over the one who gave him emeralds
And ended up in the kitchen of the Lordactor.

The walls were full of birds that flew too high,
Tears of bread were ready on the table,
together with a full pot of sparkling milk,
the sparkles weren’t magical, just painful.

- Why are you here, you nit?
I eat miserables of your kind for breakfast,
You’ll only end up soaking in mu milk,
if you dare to look straight into my eyes.

- Why am I here, oh, Master?
I want you to fire me like a cannonball,
I cannot make it back to world on my own,
And I don’t have to look, you’ll always look at me.

- Take a sip of this very milk,
Jump off the edge of my table,
You shall oscilate the way nobody ever did,
You will even beat the speed of light,
If you tell others, I’ll turn you to stone,
If you dare to come back, I’ll finish you off.

He drunk the milk and got nauseous,
The next moment he turned gamma,
And nobody could see him anymore,
Nor he could fit into any accellerator,
Apart from one they moved ages ago,
…isn’t that the other way round?!

As if he were from some other world,
As if he had, as if he had fell victim to
The solar neutrino problem.

…

I got out of the suckerfish shell,
I cannot oscilate like that neutrino,
It’s not working, I’m only beta after all,
Damn you, I hate you, Big Machine!

Trimmed tree’s bleeding its first winter bud,
The snow’s sparkling with the pure beauty of dreams,
The darkness is pleasant, it’s an ordinary night,
And then there was the one who’ll never come.

- You can’t see me, but I’ve been here all along!
Isn’t that cruel of me to send back your contrarays?
You’ll never put that perfect white shirt on me,
You’re Its enemy, I am Its soldier.

- I can see you, but your eyes are closed all the time, why?
Do you really think love cannot be crouching in balance?
You didn’t turn to stone, but you took my words without asking me,
And you don’t believe that free wanderers can be neutrinos.

- Take a piece of this mineyours nothing,
May the snow hide you together with traces of me,
Your four-angled world cannot follow me,
Your world is where colours won’t explode,
You claim this is some sort of a strong interaction?
You claim that the Lordactor has the heart to poison us?

As if he were from some other world,
As if he had, as if he had fell victim to
The solar neutrino problem.


Some Nice Scribe (Really!!!)

You don’t understand
What power really means
You’re relaying
On all your stupid dreams
You sit down there
And write things all day
You’re always at home
While I’m always away

And you want me to read what you write,
read what you write,
read what you write,
why? OK…

That’s some nice writing,
But I can’t make money out of you
You’re a girl, you’re not a man
So you don’t even have the secondary value
And if They said they like blue,
You won’t say you do, too
I’d rather sell my soul to lies
And buy a kangaroo.
And buy a kangaroo.

You don’t understand
What diplomacy is
You dare to say
You don’t like this
You have a mirror
Instead of a window
You will never shine,
You will never glow.

And you want me to listen to your problems
listen to your problems,
listen to your problems,
Why? OK…

That’s some tough shit
But I can’t help you
I’ve got no time and you’re not Them
And if They have a problem,
I have to help them first
I’d rather sell my soul to the secret
And be there first.
And be there first.

I’ll bottle the snow.
I’ll count whiskers on each cat.
I’ll examine every single bathroom mat.
You can’t choose, I’m just like that!



Bridge

“”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"”"



Hole

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L
E

[Iva]

[Iva]

Snowcookies

This is a small world.
Though it's not exactly rounded,
There is no way out
Of these concentric circles
Full of snowcookies.

Whenever I try to leave,
I swear at you like only I could,
Like I wouldn't let anyone to,
I scribble down a goodbye note,
And I walk on, not turning around,
Yet holding a little pocket mirror.

I always discover some interesting place,
Some clockwork flower of irresistible colours,
Some other spark remains of the Great Fire
I follow the trace made out of snowcookies
And in a couple of moments,
I end up standing before you again,
I end up in the very centre again,
Standing before you again,
Where no one's been allowed in a while,
Where no one's dared to go in a while.

All ways in here are yours,
All ways here lead away from you,
So they could turn out to lead up to you.
All ways here lead up to you,
So they could turn out to lead away from you.
All the ways in here are yours.

How did I get the thought of having a way of my own?
You'd just reshape it, scatte the signs around,
And spilled snowcookies for me to find you
And it would be another of your ways.

I love you. I love you not.
I love you. I love you not.
I love you. I love you not.
I love you. I love you not.

If this is a gigantic snow globe,
Soon we won't be able to go out,
And if the shimmering snow falls again,
It will fall only on us,
It will burn only our eyes,
It will melt only our faces,
Only we will be snowcookies.

If we're covered in spiderwebs,
You're the spider unaware of being a spider,
And I'm a fly on a yo-yo-like string,
I'm only going up and down, up and down,
When I hit the ground I think how I love you,
When I feel your legs I think how I hate you.

A small world,
A small world indeed.
You, standing still
Me, somehow cursed
Unable to get out for the time being
And a school of lost sparks,
Whom I cannot show the way,
As I have never found it myself.

I love you. I love you not.
I love you. I love you not.
I love you. I love you not.
I love you. I love you not.

...but there's no point to this game.
Here, the flowers have an endless number of petals
Once I tear out one, another's sprouted already,
And I cannot seem to be able to get an answer.
Here, you're a queen bee who never wanted to be one,
And I'm a miserable bug looking at you,
Wanting some honey every now and then,
Then snapping out of it, hitting the hive's walls,
Thinking such honey indeed is lethal,
And the snowcookies are full of it.



Can't Make Me Howl

They're chasing me, like they always do,
Holwling along these dusty roads,
Where it's impossible to reverse it all.

They're chasing me, I'm running away,
Wondering why I turned left when I steered right,
Wondering why I turned right when I steered left.

There's no one around,
They'd gone long ago.
There's no one around,
Everybody is a wolf.

I'm arriving to a log cabin and knocking,
Running into some toothless old lady's home.

"Granny, I'm being chased by a wolf.
I'M BEING CHASED BY A WOLF!"

"And what is so strange about it?
This world is landful of wolves
And they're no longer afraid.

Oh, do you happen to be the one
Who's creeping around every night
And who's got all the wolves mad with her,
Because she has not turned into one
After seven long wolves."

"Granny, yes, but I'm feeling well.
I don't feel anything crawl over me,
I have not seen anything incredible,
I have not started growing fur."

The granny then sits in her chair by fire,
Taking off shoes, so I could see her claws.

"See? You cannot escape this.
After some time, you'll be a wolf, too.
You know how you can avoid this?
Go out! Go away and don't come back.
The further you are from this place,
The less chance you'll be a wolf."

"Granny, you don't understand.
I cannot become a wolf.
I am simply not a wolf.
I don't want to be a wolf.
I will never be a wolf,
Even if I stay here all my life.

The granny's cracking up, occasionally howling,
She cannot imagine a life without wolves,
She cannot imagine dreams without a full moon,
She does not remember the other world anymore.

And I? I have found another lair to avoid,
And I'm adding it to my map.



Paddling Over Nothing

Every night
I meet you in Nowhereland,
Every night
I'm dreaming of you.
Every night I'm chasing you through forests
Every night I'm after you.
Every night you're running away from me,
Every night you're swearing.

...swearing.

And all those nights are
As painful as That Night
And all those nights
Are paddling over Nothing
Out of time,
Out of sight,
Out of this world,
With no rainbows at all.

Nights are very bright in Nowhereland,
That world's full of eternal fireflies,
Nights can be nauseous in Nowlereland,
With nolongertheres only in your eyes.


And they're, sorry, not in your mind,
But real, elsewhere.
Floating down the river,
One day you'll float by.


Stop Shaking The Tree

Once upon a time,
There was you,
Later in time,
There was me,
And there was a sprout,
Growing into a tree.

When I first met you,
You were sitting under a crooked tree,
Writing a...I think it was a story.
I sat down and joined you
Complained that I couldn't write for years,
I smelled the tree, I took your hand
Then I learnt to write again
And words have been flowing like a river.
And I looked at the leaves on the tree
Thinking they look a bit unusual,
Moving the way no other leaf would,
But strangely in place.

One day, I climbed the fence and looked at them,
They were all glued back to the tree
With thread, blood and pins.
I was wondering what happened there,
I was wondering what you have done,
I was wondering what they've done to you.

I found out that this crooked tree
Used to be a plain tree back in the days,
And you shook it too much
So the leaves started falling down,
The more they were falling,
The weaker you were,
Dying in the shade,
Your life crawling out of you,
Until one day, with last drop of strength,
You tossed the last leaf back
And it somehow stuck to its place.
You've picked them all and formed a pile
With arms weak, full of mould and moss
You started tossing leaves up in the air.

You were leaning against the tree,
Trying to get up, you made it crook,
But slowly you managed to get the leaves back up,
Starting from the bottom, up to the sky,
Some leaves would only need to be stabbed with a branch,
Some needes some thread or pins,
The toughest ones needed some of your blood.
And the tree was alive,
And you were breathing again.

I felt warm on the inside,
Knowing I'm sitting under a wonderful tree,
Knowing the tree was saved by a wonderful soul.
Your gentle fairy-tales and finest of fears
Were guiding me through the scariest of fields,
Smell of the tree would make me climb hills.
Each time the tree would blossom,
There'd be bees, there'd be honey,
There was a year it blossomed
Many more times than it was possible.


And then one day,
You started shaking the tree,
I brought you some flowers
You tossed rocks at me,
You chased me around,
With planks full of rusty nails,
Then you made a new fence out of rocks.
You were clling me names
Trying to shove pieces of a broken mirror
Down my throat.

There are no more leaves on top of the tree,
I'm sitting down, hiding, holding one
And you don't seem to mind if I take it away,
You wouldn't mind if I went away any given day,
I do mind that you have nothing else to say.

I don't care what you think of me
And you don't have to love me
You can spit on me, kick me around
But stop shaking the tree,
Stop shaking the tree!


Winged Froggy



He used to be a wingclipped prince,
Since the fire he's been a winged frog.
Sometimes he scatters dust in the night,
But is mostly hiding in the bog.

They all come here
To catch a gleam of his wide eyes,
But they never know
When he dusts and when he flies.

He hops around clockwork flowers
When they're dreaming ultraviolet dreams.
He leaves only tiny traces of his feet
And again he dives in muddy streams.

Waiting with my thorns,
They've grown sharper over years.
I want to embrace him with my petals
I want to shake him until he's a prince
I want to pinch him until he's a frog
Why can't he be a winged prince?
Why can't he be a plain frog?

And then I think...
Won't tie his wings
Won't kick off his crown,
For my bud is a heart
And my petals are a gown.



You're Always Awake When I'm Dead

Every time I leave to work in the night shift,
I leave you sleeping in your glass dome,
Long covered in patterns from some other rooms.

And I'll yet again disappear in fire and steam
And condensate on the outside of your glass.
Your hand is trying to remove me from the inside.

You have woken up. You're always awake when I'm dead.

Why cannot I be alive when you're awake?
Why do I have to die over and over to see you?
How did we actually end up under the same roof?
Would you even like me if you saw me alive?

We're stuck in this very night.
Will tomorrow ever come?
Will my morning ever break?
Will any drop of me ever touch you?



Stuck

If it has never spun around
Will I ever get down there?
Will I ever get off?
Will you ever get on?

I'm so close to the sky,
But even after years of sitting here,
I cannot seem to fly
And I don't even care to know why.

Call me immune,
Call me out of tune,
Call me apologetic,
Call me pathetic,
Call me singular,
Call me plural,
Call me what you want,
As long as you call me...

...did I want to be called anything?

If it has never been bumped,
How will I bump into yours?
Will I ever slow down?
Will you ever speed up?

I'm so close to the limit,
But somehow I'm not with it,
The faster I go, the slower I am
And if I'm still? Nothing happens then.

Give me silence,
Give me violence,
Give me a cone,
Give me The One,
Give me a cherry,
Give me a scary,
Give me what you want
As long as you give it...

...did I really want anything?



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[Iva]

That is not how you break a wall

This is how you break a wall,
This is how you break a wall,
This is how you break a wall...
THAT IS NOT HOW YOU BREAK A WALL.

A whole life in a soft drinking cup,
You should've put your hand above it.
But you didn't.
A whole down down down and no up up up,
You should've crooked its neck before it came round to it.

Swallows like this one either shouldn't live,
Or they need to be treated with proper love.
Swallows like this either bite the hand that feeds,
Or they feed a hand that bites, in small, yet golden bites.

Its eyes go from black to blue,
As its heart goes from red to black.
Its dreams go from big to small,
While its poison goes from small to big.

This sure is a strange kind of a balance,
Nobody to read and write, nobody to give love,
Only basic instict and eating raw flesh.

You should stop flying so high,
Blinded by the light, you might hit a block of lead.

This is how you break a doll,
This is how you break a doll,
This is how you break a doll...
BUT WHY WOULD YOU BREAK A DOLL?

A whole life in a wrong orbit,
You should've glued on some heart-shaped cookies,
But you ate them.
Glue glue glue and no yum yum yum.
You should've turned the sky off before it lit up.

Swallows like this one either shouldn't sing,
Or they need to sing whatever their hearts desire,
Swallows like this can't get out due to a lack of map...
Or they actually want to circle around at every drip of a tap.

This sure is a strange kind of a system,
Nobody to pull the weed, nobody above,
Roads that no longer interesect and mash.

You should stop leaning over the river bank.
The river is bright green and full of sparkles.

This is not what I meant,
If I ever said that you should break the wall.
Not at all!


Retrograde-Circular Metamorphosis

A bunch of animals are feeding on my corpse.
I don’t care. No, I don’t care.
After some time they grow wings and tentacles
And totally new they’re leaving to another world.
I don’t care. No, I don’t care.
Those animals are my own
And they deserve all the best
Even though they’re a bit unusual
Being unusual is so very beautiful
Being unusual is almost a matter of being blind.

And you, where are your wings?
Aren’t you, what, some sort of a butterfly?
Aren’t you, what, some sort of a bird?

Retrograde-circular metamorphosis,
A cocoon until further notice.
Retrograde-circular metamorphosis,
I’m a caterpillar
I REALLY ONLY AM A CATEPILLAR!

Uh, all right. And then?

A bunch of scavengers is still messing around.
Why are they here? Why are they still here?
They’re still drinking poison and claiming it’s honey,
And you, making your own honey at home,
What exactly in the heaven’s name are you?

Real. Truthful. And you?

Retrograde-circular metamorphosis,
A cocoon until further notice.
Retrograde-circular metamorphosis…
Get out of here!
HEARD THAT, GET OUTU OF HERE, DAMN YOU!
YOU’LL NOW GET OUT JUST LIKE THAT.
You can cross a bridge to me,
These bridges are falling every day,
Someday, yours will fall down too.

If that happens, I shall swim.

You’ll swim with my BIG FISH?
They’re abnormal and they really like meat.

Yes, your meat.
Nobody’s really in for eating mine.

Here dogs leave six to eight paw marks.

Funny, I’d think they leave…four.

Here you can get eaten behind any tree.

I don’t recall trees that eat people.

Someone who loves to dream would like this.

Eh, I like to dream and I don’t like this.
As a matter of a fact, I’ll stop it right now.
You’re chasing me out, not understanding who is telling the story.
It must be really stupid to be on that other side.


A Flower So Pretty You Cannot Touch

Trees were so small,
With white swallows sleeping on them,
And then I saw the flower.

A flower so pretty you cannot touch,
A flower so pretty you cannot pick,
A flower so pretty it won’t open again,
Because no one should see how pretty it really is.

I touched the flower,
It bit me.
I was looking at the flower,
It let a bunch of weeds grow from it.
What flower?
What a flower!!!
Strange flower,
The only of its kind.

My squeak woke up the swallows,
Their eyes were bloody-red,
Some had a teeth or two.
They formed a circle around the flower
And chirped at me in rage.

What have I done wrong, exactly?
I wondered why the flower was so pretty.
I wondered why the flower was so strange.
I wondered why the flower was firing weeds.
And I said I’d never seen a flower like that before.

I sigh and think to myself,
How can such a pretty flower be so moody?

And then the ground opens up,
And dead trees are coming to life,
more red than white birds’ eyes.
Now they’re hiding the flower too,
They’re quiet, not loud like the swallows,
But clearly letting me know I’m not welcome.

I finally dare to speak up
Only to tell them they’re incredibly vain.
Would so many young trees
And so many dead trees
And so many swallows
Get up to defend a single flower?

That said, the swallows got angry,
They started picking red pine needles
And throwing them at me, now hissing in anger.
Needles are falling around me, killing all they touch,
And it looks like they won’t be running out.

I couldn’t get away from them,
So I thoght I’d run to them,
And just let it be.
Each time I’d take a step,
A dead tree would disappear,
A swallow would go back to sleep,
A small tree would move away.
The hole in the ground closed.

It was just me and the flower again,
And I never found out what all of this was for,
And why so many dust raised around…

…a flower so pretty you cannot touch,
A flower so pretty you cannot pick,
A flower so pretty it won’t open again,
Because no one should see how pretty it really is.





Chasing The Doll

Sitting in a cell, where the shadowchildren trapped us,
We were playing with a doll and a wind-up robot.
I wasn’t bothered that they were giving us canned beans,
I wasn’t bothered with a hole on the doll’s head.
You were, however, trying to burnish a rusted robot
And asking me to read out fine print from the can,
As it apparently didn’t matter how old these beans are,
It apparently didn’t matter where and how we’re eating it,
It mattered how it was cultivated and prepared.

At some point, I cut one shadowchild with a lid
And realised we were trapped by mere shadows,
No tears, no painful screams, not a single drop of blood.
I bit my tongue, as you were still bowing to them.
I waited for the morning, the shadowchildren were gone.
I was right.

As the winter sun shone, we went outside,
There was no living soul around, only black ravens.
- Stupid Sun! Not different than what it shines down on, on the horizon.
- Wonderful Sun! It’s like a jewel and an eternal source of hope.

I was turning around to make out where the south is,
You stood there, not moving, then you took my broken doll
And started running away, I still didn’t understand what happened,
Until you yelled that mechanics fits me better of the two.
You threw the robot at my feet so I’d trip over it
And you weren’t feeling sorry at all.
Wise one, you know, this won’t last!

I was chasing you, you jumped on a tricycle,
I got into the nearest pedal car
And I chased you through snow banks, amongst trees,
Until you hit a pretty thick tree.
I came closer to take the doll and check if you’re all right,
You hit me and pushed me on a moss-covered rock
And, as I was coming round, you got a bicycle from a basement
And fled further, while I was running after you, swearing.

I was lucky, someone left a motorcycle behind,
I climbed on it, rode by you, took the doll
And then pushed you into the nearest ditch.
I thought you’d reach me halfway, regardless of how mad you are,
As there was no other way for you to get out of this hellhole.

For a while I walked alone, watching birds,
I could swear one had two pairs of legs,
And I thought I heard howling further away.
Those sounds and sights disappeared soon after,
And I was listening to music of silence only,
While I counted flowers growing out of asphalt.

Silence was broken by sharp thud of hooves.
At first, I thought I was hearing things again,
Until I saw you approaching on a honey-coloured horse,
Yelling how you’ll take the “thing for playing”, no matter what.
I ran over the hill, colliding with sprouts,
And finally got into the only house I spotted.
I hid behind a desk,
You were throwing nuggets of soil through the windows.

I simply couldn’t believe you had so many nuggets on you,
And that you weren’t afraid of getting your hands that dirty.
Then something made a sound right next to me
And the next thing I was aware of was riding,
No more no less than on the back of a wild boar
And giggling because you were running like a little girl,
Fearing we’d tear you apart like a newspaper at the same time.

At some point, you were no longer in sight,
So I tried to stop the boar and I couldn’t
Until it backed away before a pile of corroded vehicles
And threw me straight into the back of some tractor.
I’m sitting in dirt and enjoying the silence,
I could almost fall asleep.

…

A hit at the tractor
Threw me from the back to the cockpit.
What has happened?
I was hit by a digger.
I was expecting someone else,
But unfortunately, it was you again,
And I cannot admit that I’d missed you,
As I’d never let you have a doll, a matter of principles.
I was manoeuvring as much as I could,
Until you stuck a backhoe in, right in my face,
Not realising that you could decapitate me
While trying to reach that bloody doll.

I looked at the seat, found a brick in a bag
And threw it at your digger’s chains.
I don’t know where you went as you lost control,
Nor I cared about that anymore.
Perhaps I’m sick of you, despite everything.
I went out, found some bus,
Started the engine and went on my way out,
Laughing because you won’t know the right way.

Soon I saw an old lady carrying a bundle
And I was sure the exit was nearby,
When I heard the uncomfortable battle cry of a siren,
And something large and red crossed my way.
The old lady ran for her life,
And I turned around fast, tumbling down a tree,
And drove back as fast as I could.

Oh no, you again.
Yes, you.
Again, you.
Always you.
Only you.
You’re at the wheel of a fire truck?!
Heck, nothing can surprise me anymore.
And I know, you want the thing for playing,
Which I still consider to be a doll.
We’re chasing across this Strangeland all day,
Crossing bridges that are long gone,
Hitting hungry wolves and wild boars.
And then, when I got back to the centre,
I realised you were gone. Not following me.
You probably ran out of fuel.

You were gone all night long.
You were still gone that morning.

Have you finally given up and went to take a nap?
Could it be that you no longer want that doll?
Uh?!
Could it be that a hook just grabbed me by collar?
Could it be that I’m a few metres above the ground?
Could it be that a crane caught me?
You have really gone mad,
I think as I’m falling in sand and getting in a crane myself.
I’m sick of you, I really am sick of you.

And I cannot believe this. No, I cannot.
First a pedal car and a tricycle.
Then a bicycle and a motorcycle.
Then a horse and a wild boar.
Then a tractor and a digger.
Then a fire truck and a bus.
And now cranes?
Yes, cranes!

Cranes at sunset are hitting one another like deer in a fight,
And the deer never die one next to the other,
I’m beginning to realise nobody will take the victory here,
I’m beginning to realise every next day will hurt me,
And I’m ready to give you that stupid, insignificant doll,
And take that robot, similar to one I used to have,
Through the last sun beams I scream that I had enough,
And I’m offering you the doll, but you want a thing for playing.
I don’t know why I, apparently, should be gone after all this.

The Sun is setting. It’s no more. It went away.
And what are you doing?
You’re losing grip,
Your crane begins to fall
On the worst possible thing a crane could fall on.
Ever.

I can only close my eyes.

This is what everyone feared.

Since when do hypothetical things happ…

(Light never seen before.

A bang stronger than the cosmos.

Silence. The genuine kind of. )

…en?

After some time, I’m coming round and getting up,
I’m somehow making my way from under large debris of lead
And looking around…there’s nobody, there’s nothing in sight.
I’m all alone in the diameter of a couple hundred kilometres,
Not knowing if you’re already in the clouds or underneath,
But I’m having a thought that all of this is like transparent cell
And that we have nothing to do with the background.
Damn, that probably means you’re around here somewhere.

And it was true; you’re getting from debris of lead too,
Not having the slightest idea so as to what just occurred
And you’re asking me what happened to the thing for playing.
I don’t know if I should tell you it was just a mere doll,
Perhaps it’s better when I keep my mouth shout.

Were we really just playing?

[Iva]

That is not how you break a wall

This is how you break a wall,
This is how you break a wall,
This is how you break a wall…
THAT IS NOT HOW YOU BREAK A WALL.

A whole life in a soft drinking cup,
You should’ve put your hand above it.
But you didn’t.
A whole down down down and no up up up,
You should’ve crooked its neck before it came round to it.

Swallows like this one either shouldn’t live,
Or they need to be treated with proper love.
Swallows like this either bite the hand that feeds,
Or they feed a hand that bites, in small, yet golden bites.

Its eyes go from black to blue,
As its heart goes from red to black.
Its dreams go from big to small,
While its poison goes from small to big.

This sure is a strange kind of a balance,
Nobody to read and write, nobody to give love,
Only basic instict and eating raw flesh.

You should stop flying so high,
Blinded by the light, you might hit a block of lead.

This is how you break a doll,
This is how you break a doll,
This is how you break a doll…
BUT WHY WOULD YOU BREAK A DOLL?

A whole life in a wrong orbit,
You should’ve glued on some heart-shaped cookies,
But you ate them.
Glue glue glue and no yum yum yum.
You should’ve turned the sky off before it lit up.

Swallows like this one either shouldn’t sing,
Or they need to sing whatever their hearts desire,
Swallows like this can’t get out due to a lack of map…
Or they actually want to circle around at every drip of a tap.

This sure is a strange kind of a system,
Nobody to pull the weed, nobody above,
Roads that no longer interesect and mash.

You should stop leaning over the river bank.
The river is bright green and full of sparkles.

This is not what I meant,
If I ever said that you should break the wall.
Not at all!


L’esprit de l’Escalier

She goes to sleep, feeling slightly tired
Hoping the whole week’s been just a mess
After a good nap, it’ll be a Friday
And perhaps it’ll turn out she was just
Seeing things,
Seeing things?!
Seeing things…

He sits down, feeling sloghtly bored,
No longer wrapped in correctness-strings
After all, it’s still a Thursday
And it’s really funny when you’re making
Someone crazy,
Someone…crazy?
Someone. Crazy.

Love is not so sacred anymore,
Love is not so sacred anymore,
Ask me about the consequences of this,
She says while dreaming of No man’s land,
Love is not so sacred anymore.

Me or you?
Why not me and you?
Steering far left,
Steering far right,
I always have,
I always will,
You just “might”,
But you’re always right,
Right?

She wakes up, missing all the daylight,
A friend tells her to go look at something,
This is good not good good not good wonderful horror,
she’s been shut up, but why? Why?
Could it be,
Could it be?!
Could it be…

For late lunch or dinner

Go over to the big supermarket,

Dough,

Tomato sauce,

Origano,

Pepper,

Mushrooms,

Artichoke,

Ham

Cheese should be mozzarella,

Takes a while to bake

Anchovies, anchovies, anchovies.

Not stellar l’esprit de l’Escalier. I’m actually only hungry.

What’s wrong with your heart?
What’s wrong with your heart?
You hurt me.
And who knows what you wanted.

What’s wrong with my heart?
What’s wrong with my heart?
I didn’t mean to.
I really didn’t mean to.

What’s wrong with your heart?
What’s wrong with your heart?
I’ll wait.
I can sit and wait forever.

What’s wrong with my heart?
What’s wrong with my heart?
Why did I write this?
Oh yes, l’esprit de l’Escalier.


Lighthouse

If I’m not glowing
Then I’m not here
Cause I don’t shine to you,
Shine to you.

If I’m not green,
I’m blue and unreal,
And I don’t shine to you,
Shine to you.

You don’t know anything anymore
Though you claim you do
Because you used to.

Like a painting on the pavement with a water bottle on a rainy day,
I’m not there.
Everything is more beautiful than it used to be beforehand,
So I’m not there,
I’m not there.

If I’m not flying,
Then I’m invisible,
And I don’t shine to you,
Shine to you.

If I’m not saying gibberish,
Then I’m mute and uninteresting,
And I don’t shine to you,
Shine to you.

You don’t know anyone anymore,
Though you claim you do
Because you used to know better.

Like a fable being told and then you bite your tongue when you get it,
I’m not there.
Everything will be much worse some other day,
So I’m not there,
I’m not there.

And what purpose do I serve then?
Like, some sort of a lighthouse?
Or, perhaps a Lighthouse?
A lower form of life in a world with higher forms of life gone,
Because they’re too good to be wasting their life around here.
Waste, waste, true, genuine waste.
From all sides of the world, straight into my hands…trash, trash, trash.

Like a painting on the pavement with a water bottle on a rainy day,
Like a fable being told and then you bite your tongue when you get it,
Like a response to a question you understand only if you’re as easy to offend.
I’m not there. No, I’m not there and I don’t shine to you.

Sherds

A candy-shaped bomb in my front pocket,
A bomb-shaped candy in my back pocket,
Both of them fragments of you.

I don’t like sherds.
I would gladly glue you back,
But I have spent all of my glue.

A shadow in the shape of a stain on my left pocket,
A stain in the shape of a shadow on my right pocket,
Both of them are droplets of you.

I don’t like dirt,
I’d gladly clean you up,
But I cannot see you in pitch dark.

Shouldn’t have ripped me me to sherds.
Shouldn’t have made me use up all the light.


Is This Hypoxia, Then?

I keep you in a can,
I keep you in a can,
Closing it as often as I can.
As often as I can.

I have an impression that,
The more I’m opening it,
The more poison spreads around me.
I have an impression that,
The less I’m opening it,
More electricity runs through me.

I have an impression that the poison would come out,
Each time the can would be open for too long, too often.

Is this hypoxia, then?
I don’t know.
Somehow I feel like we both are suffocating.
Somehow I feel there’s a way back.
Tomorrow I’ll think there’s no way back.
The next day I’ll think there’s a way back.
…



Knit & Purl

Release my tangled-up dreams and let them fly,
I’ve got a whole batallion of weighs in these shoes,
Like a newspaper, I keep a diary of sad endings,
In case I might need them someday.

My side is always purl, yours is always knit,
And that’s why I’m full of rough knots on the inside,
Some of them are getting bigger every day.
Imagine where one could arrive with lightnings instead of arms?
Imagine what would be if wheels were square.


Fake

So…

Not a frequent flyer,
Not a cute cryer,
Not a real liar,
Not starting a fire,
Not aiming higher,
Really?
REALLY!

Not a primadonna,
Not a Maradona.
Really?
REALLY!

I’m so real that, by the logic of things, I probably have to turn out to be fake. Of course, there are no such things as well-behaved females who don’t happen to be a member of some conflicting sect or something, nobody really is good solely because they were made that way, what a nonsense. Of course there is no such a thing as females who don’t style their hair and who would rather spend their money or something else. Not to mention that, in these modern times, there are no females who who don’t want to pinch every single backside passing by, females who don’t lick their lips, aren’t really too big on being attractive and making other females envious.Donec at eros lacus. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Nulla facilisi. Curabitur non lorem dolor, nec scelerisque nibh. Donec turpis erat, lobortis nec egestas ac, lobortis vel nunc. Praesent odio risus, placerat in commodo non, volutpat ac turpis. Mauris a turpis eu lectus condimentum consectetur. Nullam pretium elit quis odio hendrerit vitae scelerisque arcu suscipit. Aliquam eu lacus libero. In suscipit purus lorem, vitae aliquam leo. Nunc pulvinar porta metus placerat pellentesque. Vestibulum at ante libero. Nullam condimentum bibendum venenatis. Mauris ut sapien erat, quis semper enim. Nulla erat velit, aliquam quis suscipit ac, ultrices ut mi and females who really talk that much, which could further read to turning out they’re actually male.


Dreams Painted Black

They carved stone,
That’s how I came to be.
They gathered some sand,
That’s how you came to be.

We’re not from the same shores.
Your sea is dark and full of secrets,
full of vulcano rocks and fairytale-like.
My river is greenish, full of clear water,
bordered by nets that limit all the freedoms.

You’re an anglerfish,
you’re trying to be anything you get glued on.
you end up all dried out.
I’m a suckerfish,
I may get glued to other fish,
But I don’t like the taste of their blood
And I end up sucking myself.
Yes, right, poor me or something.

One day, we travelled down the Beautiful Blue,
Had two minor stops along the way,
Thought I’d chase you down to my doorstep,
But the weather was really bad
We missed the stop, ended up washed away
Got to the big and dark sea
And didn’t know how to return.

There was a landful of rivers leading back,
You said you know which one to take,
I don’t know why, but I believed you.
And why did I believe you?

You always take the wrong way back, don’t you?
You always end up at the wrong place, don’t you?
If you scream now, nobody will hear you,
Nobody will come anywhere near you.
Wait a minute, and why am I still with you?

After a long way upstream, we end up somewhere,
It feels like a port, but ships are full of algae,
And they appear to be half-eaten by rust.

There was a cow corpse on our way,
With a rusty triangular sign next to it,
I have not seen such a sign before,
And you were scratching your back on it.

A giant catfish with true ringmaster-whiskers,
A third eye underneath his fin
And a sparkling eel around his tail
Crawls out of a large underwater cave
He asks why we came here.

I said we missed our way back to the Beautiful Blue.

You said we want all of our dreams to come true.

A bunch of big six-winged fish crawled out of the corpse
And they surrounded us, wondering what we are,
You got us in trouble with your lack of orientation.
I don’t know why, but I believed you.
And why did I believe you?

You always say unexpected things, don’t you?
You always asks what nobody would, don’t you?
If he eats you now, nobody will save you,
Nobody will go that far for you.
Wait a minute, am I here to save you?

The third eye flashed, the eel spun around.
And, as if I said nothing,
As if I weren’t the one dreaming in cyrillic letters,
He listened to you and, despite the situation, all of the sudden,
We dream.
We dream.
We dream.
We dream.

I wish I could dream with my eyes closed, like land animals do,
This way, I see your dreams, too; and it makes me shiver.
You’re turning into stone,
Then changing into a ray of light,
Reflecting ad forming a toy house,
Then melting away into gold in the river mouth,
This, that, this, that.

And nothing’s going on with me,
I think I have no dreams.
I jumped out of the water,
Didn’t want to look at that any more,
I have never jumped so high before!
And then, through the broken glass on a ship,
I saw that I’m an ugly female anglerfish!!!

Was that my ultimate dream?
Or was that my ultimate punishment for not having dreams?

I’m underwater again,
And you are making circles in the water, still dreaming,
Then you come closer to stick to me
And right before you reach me, you’re a fishbone.
I guess that is how my dreams conflict yours?!
I don’t want you to die, so I’m pushing you,
And now it’s me your dreams are changing.
First, I’m a little shell.
Then, as soon as I’ve opened up to see if there’s a pearl in me,
You turn me into a cranky crab with big chelipeds.

Ringmaster catfish is gurgling at you,
So are his six-fine guardians,
He’s never seen such a clueless fishbone
And he’s never seen such an ugly crab.

I’m pinching your tail fin,
And trying to wake you up,
This masquerade should stop.
Then I snap my chelipeds and we wake up.
You’re an anglerfish, I’m a suckerfish,
Nothing has really changed for us,
Yet the ringmaster fish is a mere black bullhead
And his guardians are dead fish floating above.

This was definitely not home, I want to go home,
This is a strange port, no people, nothing moving,
We were seeing odd fish and it was your fault.
I don’t know why, but I believed you.
And why did I believe you?

I always take the wrong way for you, don’t I?
I always end up at the wrong port for you, don’t I?
When I return home, nobody will believe me,
When I return home, you won’t even look at me.
Wait a minute, and why can’t you even look at me?
Why can’t you at least believe me?


Dreams Painted Black

They carved stone,
That’s how I came to be.
They gathered some sand,
That’s how you came to be.

We’re not from the same shores.
Your sea is dark and full of secrets,
full of vulcano rocks and fairytale-like.
My river is greenish, full of clear water,
bordered by nets that limit all the freedoms.

You’re an anglerfish,
you’re trying to be anything you get glued on.
you end up all dried out.
I’m a suckerfish,
I may get glued to other fish,
But I don’t like the taste of their blood
And I end up sucking myself.
Yes, right, poor me or something.

One day, we travelled down the Beautiful Blue,
Had two minor stops along the way,
Thought I’d chase you down to my doorstep,
But the weather was really bad
We missed the stop, ended up washed away
Got to the big and dark sea
And didn’t know how to return.

There was a landful of rivers leading back,
You said you know which one to take,
I don’t know why, but I believed you.
And why did I believe you?

You always take the wrong way back, don’t you?
You always end up at the wrong place, don’t you?
If you scream now, nobody will hear you,
Nobody will come anywhere near you.
Wait a minute, and why am I still with you?

After a long way upstream, we end up somewhere,
It feels like a port, but ships are full of algae,
And they appear to be half-eaten by rust.

There was a cow corpse on our way,
With a rusty triangular sign next to it,
I have not seen such a sign before,
And you were scratching your back on it.

A giant catfish with true ringmaster-whiskers,
A third eye underneath his fin
And a sparkling eel around his tail
Crawls out of a large underwater cave
He asks why we came here.

I said we missed our way back to the Beautiful Blue.

You said we want all of our dreams to come true.

A bunch of big six-winged fish crawled out of the corpse
And they surrounded us, wondering what we are,
You got us in trouble with your lack of orientation.
I don’t know why, but I believed you.
And why did I believe you?

You always say unexpected things, don’t you?
You always asks what nobody would, don’t you?
If he eats you now, nobody will save you,
Nobody will go that far for you.
Wait a minute, am I here to save you?

The third eye flashed, the eel spun around.
And, as if I said nothing,
As if I weren’t the one dreaming in cyrillic letters,
He listened to you and, despite the situation, all of the sudden,
We dream.
We dream.
We dream.
We dream.

I wish I could dream with my eyes closed, like land animals do,
This way, I see your dreams, too; and it makes me shiver.
You’re turning into stone,
Then changing into a ray of light,
Reflecting ad forming a toy house,
Then melting away into gold in the river mouth,
This, that, this, that.

And nothing’s going on with me,
I think I have no dreams.
I jumped out of the water,
Didn’t want to look at that any more,
I have never jumped so high before!
And then, through the broken glass on a ship,
I saw that I’m an ugly female anglerfish!!!

Was that my ultimate dream?
Or was that my ultimate punishment for not having dreams?

I’m underwater again,
And you are making circles in the water, still dreaming,
Then you come closer to stick to me
And right before you reach me, you’re a fishbone.
I guess that is how my dreams conflict yours?!
I don’t want you to die, so I’m pushing you,
And now it’s me your dreams are changing.
First, I’m a little shell.
Then, as soon as I’ve opened up to see if there’s a pearl in me,
You turn me into a cranky crab with big chelipeds.

Ringmaster catfish is gurgling at you,
So are his six-fine guardians,
He’s never seen such a clueless fishbone
And he’s never seen such an ugly crab.

I’m pinching your tail fin,
And trying to wake you up,
This masquerade should stop.
Then I snap my chelipeds and we wake up.
You’re an anglerfish, I’m a suckerfish,
Nothing has really changed for us,
Yet the ringmaster fish is a mere black bullhead
And his guardians are dead fish floating above.

This was definitely not home, I want to go home,
This is a strange port, no people, nothing moving,
We were seeing odd fish and it was your fault.
I don’t know why, but I believed you.
And why did I believe you?

I always take the wrong way for you, don’t I?
I always end up at the wrong port for you, don’t I?
When I return home, nobody will believe me,
When I return home, you won’t even look at me.
Wait a minute, and why can’t you even look at me?
Why can’t you at least believe me?



Unreliable Machine?

Like old machines?
Screwing them up on specific dates?
Sticking yourself into a mousehole after that happens?
You’re my kind, you’re my kind,
But you’re totally not my kind of a mind.
Anything else in common I could find?
No, I don’t think I’m blind.
I’m not blind.

Know what you are?
An unreliable machine.
Mass destruction within.

Fill up, use up, fill up again.
What happens when you cannot refill?

Like old machines?
No dragononflies or fireflies nearby?
When you have one, no one can come near you, oh my!
You’re my all, you’re my all,
But you don’t know how to break a wall.
I have a feeling that you want me to crawl.
But I don’t want to throw back the ball.
I won’t throw the ball.

Know what you are?
The best that’s ever been.
Slow painful death within.

Erase, draw, erase again.
What happens when you drop the pen?


This One Has A Long, Poetic Title With An Exclamation Mark At Its End!

We are on a top of a hill, in flowers,
Big river of blue is heading into another
Then they’re, hand in hand, heading to black,
Lying on a coach I brought with me,
I’m looking down the hill, scribbling something.

You’re carving a propeller from a piece of wood,
Nibbling on a wilthed straw of grass you picked nearby
And you’re lost in some blueprints.
I know, you’re going to fly again.
Just as it always is, you’re going around and around,
And I’m staying here, my feet on the ground.

And I want you to teach me to fly,
But you say no,
You think I’m the kind that could never fly,
Because I would do it my way
And I wouldn’t do it your way.

I can’t stick a nail the right way,
You can’t draw a line the right way,
I can’t polish a piece of metal,
You can’t find the passage I was reading.

How do I keep you from drowning
In a world worse and more bitter than where we are now?
How do I keep you from dreaming
On things more lethal than the straw you’re chrewing on now?
How do I keep you from drowning?
How do I keep you from dreaming?

Midday sun shines.
As I’m folding out an old umbrella,
You’re drinking rain drops from flowers,
About to nibble an achene as well.
Through laughter, you tell me that I am too logical
And that I don’t know how to dream.
What is wrong with you, those flowers kill!
As you’re about to eat one, I come closer and kiss you.

If I don’t know how to dream, then why am I crying?
If I don’t dream, then how come I brought you here?
If I don’t dream, then why am I trying to steal the drops away?

However, that moment appears to be of short life.
You’re snapping out of it, ready to hit me,
I move to the side and you’re wiping your mouth, offended,
They’re dry, yet you’d spit on the remaining flowers so much.

“You spawn, how dare you?
That was a nice idea, as this is more your territory than mine,
And now you’re thinking you’re allowed to do what you want,
That’s not what will happen, you’re just a brat.”

Witdrawing to my side of the couch, I cry,
I didn’t want you to eat and drink that, I kissed you, so what?
Had I just nagged, you’d still be eating the achenes.

“Why did you call me spawn?”, I ask.

“And who might you be…?”, you mumble and scratch your head.

The propeller was soon ready and we slid down the hill,
We took a road along the river, all the way to the nearest port.
We stopped by when I grabbed some triangular sign.
You went out and walked straight to the boats.
For a while I kept on scribbling in my notebook
And then I saw you throwing rocks and dirt into water.
For god’s sake, the boats are sleeping and they’ll be angry if they

wake up!
They’d sink you like a meaningless floater.
One tugboat squirmed a bit and sighed,
And you got your hands on a rather large rock.

I jumped off the couch straight into your embrace,
I held you close until you dropped that rock.
The tugboat continued to snore, gently swinging to left and right.

However, that moment too appears to be of short life.
You swore at me and pushed me on a pile of waste,
Now you’re looking at your reflection in the water, fixing your hair,
You gave up on that rock and you’re stomping tyour feet.

“You fool, what on Earth comes to your mind?
That was a nice plan, you stopped that couch
And now you think you have a subscription on about everything,
Well, you aren’t subscribed to me, you rotten despot!”

Withdrawing under the nearest tree, I’m weeping,
I didn’t want that tugboat to squish you, I hugged you, so what?
Had I just sat down there, you would’ve been on the river bottom.

“Why do you think I’m a fool?”, I ask.

“I thought I heard someone and I’m alone here…” you shake your head

in disbelief.

You carved a pair of wings and we flew over really low trees,
Then we headed south and landed in someone’s garden.
An old lady approached us, accompanied by an one-eyed dog
And she smiled, because I said hello back to her.
You were standing on the side, not even trying to wave
Then she muttered that you’re quite a good-looking one,
And went to the tree to bring you an apple.
She picked the biggest one, told you to catch, you shrugged,
The apple was flying towards you, you didn’t understand a thing.
Silly, it’ll hit you in the head…you mute!

I moved a bit and lied on top of you,
Just enough for the apple to fly over the couch and fall apart in the

grass,
The old lady excused herself and winked at me.

Naturally, this moment is of short life, too.
You kicked me in stomach with your knee and got up.
You took off your shirt to dust the inexistent dust.

“You nasty piece of scum, what is wrong with you?
That was a nice plan. You had an agrement with old lady
And you think some fruit from the tree is the right tool,
If so, you’ll always be nothing but a black curse to me!”

Withdrawing to cry on the old woman’s shoulder,
I didn’t want that apple to knock you out, I lied on top of you, so

what?
Hadn’t I done so, you would’ve seen more than a pair of stars.

“How can you call me piece of scum after all?”, I ask.

“Granny, there’s nobody with you, right?”, you ask and she doesn’t

speak that language.

We’re moving on, now with the second pair of wings,
The night has fallen now and we’re advancing slowly.
The sky is full of stars that inevitably remind me of achenes,
The trees shimmer with schools of blueish fireflies.
Suddenly, a pair of fireflies is yellow and too large,
What kind of bugs are those, I wonder, and then a body of a wolf jumps

on me,
Hitting me with its tail and scratching me with sharp claws.

A head of a wolf jumped on you, howling and drooling,
You tried to suffocate it, but there was no use.
I thought a little, then I grabbed your toolbox
And put the wolf together, while you were paler than pale.
Having made the ends meat, the wolf went quiet, blowed at you and

left.

You fell asleep, unusually calm, covered by pale moonlight,
And I was shivering, silently cursing you, not to wake you up.
Perhaps I should have let you drink that dew and eat the achene.
Perhaps I should have let that tugboat drown you.
Perhaps I should have let you sport a bump from that huge apple.
Perhaps I should have let that head of a wolf get the best of you.

At that point, you tossed and turned and mumbled: “Uuuh…fruit from

the tree…”
I wondered how come, I have not said anything out loud,
I was only rewinding the film for myself,
I don’t even know how I fell asleep amongst all those fireflies.

I woke up. You were gone. This was just a plain couch.
I was in the middle of the road, near some tree.
I turned around to nap a little more,
And then I spotted something on the arm rest.

An apple! Whoops, a fruit from the tree?!
No! AN APPLE, AN APPLE, AN APPLE, AN APPLE!
An apple glued back together like a mosaic,
With its stem I didn’t remember from before still green.
Perhaps I should have tossed it?
Perhaps I should have flushed it somewhere?
Perhaps I should have lit it up and watch it burn?
I ate it.
A bite got stuck in my throat.
Regardless of the water I drink, it’s still there.
I cannot evocate the taste of that clumsy kiss,
I cannot feel the warmth of that sudden embrace,
I cannot feel the shivers of that coming too close,
But I’m constantly feeling an apple bite in my throat.
An apple, an apple, an apple.