~ Quaere ~

Roads

2011-10-23T08:22:00.004+02:00

I'm chasing Gods while chased by Death,
Painting my road so careless,
A desert takes away my breath,
And makes me very anxious.

I've seen your road, ivory white,
Maya blue clouds, deceiving -
My eyes, - your picture's a delight,
In light and shades, so teasing.

The flowers silver, ice blue, teal,
Enchant my wasteland vision.
I know I'm not allowed to feel -
so much for just a fiction.

The lake, liquid, electric blue,
I'm tense and feel so captive,
'Cause I have lost my road for you,
The blue was too deceptive.

Anaesthetized

2011-10-23T08:17:00.002+02:00

Her mind dreams notes painted in silver,
And doubts the future will arise
The lost emotions, lost within her,
She feels ... anaesthetized.

The world, the wind, seem mere illusions,
Eons went by since life surprised,
With passion, thrill, obsessed infusions,
Her heart ... anaesthetized.

Colors seem cold. They are reflections,
Of light, and she has been advised,
There are no angels, elfs or demons,
Her eyes ... anaesthetized.

Breathing in desert. Sands seal the sound,
Her vision's always theorized,
And though eternal, she has found,
Her lips ... anaesthetized.

She kisses snow. Feels icey mirrors,
And all around -, shadows disguised,
And voices, echoes, frozen whispers,
Her Soul ... anaesthetized.

Distance

2011-10-23T08:13:00.000+02:00

The distance to a soul, unknown,

The distance hiding beneath eyes.

A touch away, but ever so,

A touch that only lies.

And would I ever dare to walk,

The distance to a soul, unknown,

I'd seek a bridge, and ever so,

Walk up, up, up... and down.

But as my eyes are made of stone,

And all my dreams of icey nights,

The distance to a soul, unknown,

Are letters mere, a poet writes.

And I could write and write and write,

Chasing old shadows, all alone,

Yet never walking, sadly quite,

The distance to a soul, unknown.

Locus Solus

2011-10-23T07:30:00.000+02:00

The 'Soul' is a different entity ... ever far and alone. Doleful chamber of autopoiesis

Dissembled dark. I doubt he'll write,

That he's lost in a mirror,

The poets effulgent delight

Reflects always a dimmer...

... a dimmer sound, entailing sin,

In forms which once were breathless,

Havoc emerging from within,

Eventually exile, now faithless...

... now faithless dreams in flawless time,

Endless in lonely hours,

Dreaming of a dreadfull rhyme,

That 'we' would call now 'ours'.

Curiosity

2011-03-29T09:47:00.001+02:00

Meet me:

I'm called curiosity -

I'm the voice of the restless.

And I am made to taste

All that is tasteless

- to anteriority.

Here,

I am placed before fear -

Yet feared am I by many,

For I am made to see,

All things so uncanny

- behind the lone-moving gear.

Distinct,

From reason, from instinct -

Times hunter, times pray,

I am made to smell

Wind carrying away

- World existant, world extinct.

I place

Time and space -

In the hands of the poor.

And to feel, am I made -

Lies, Truths, so the more

- how they grow, how they race.

Relentless,

My stories are endless,

From Winter to Summer, to Spring or to Fall.

I'm the motion, the force -

I am made to do all

But to hear the Silence.

Strange Allegory

2011-02-10T10:42:00.011+01:00

Vader: I find your lack of faith
disturbing.
Tarkin: Enough of this! Vader,
release him!

Lately,

We lived a strange allegory,

With you here

And me on Alpha Centauri,

With a connection made

More EM - than TELE-pathically.

Boldly,

You're exploring the moon, wildly,

Of Endor,

With me, elegantly,

Trying to invade,

This forest-moon of liberty,

Because, well - you see -,

Here, on Alpha Centauri,

Beings like me,

Don't understand being free.

Yet, fear not.

Clearly.

I misremember the journey

To Cloud City,

And its teachings of Anti

-Gravity,

It's because of the dust, I suppose,

On Alpha Centauri.

Maybe.

But, Fear not.

Eventually,

I'll learn to fly,

With the speed of light, dazzingly,

Towards undreamed dreams, in dreamy -

Landscapes, empty

At first,

Yet free.

Beyond Bespin, and Alderaan

And Mustafar,

Beyond Mon Calamari,

And even Alpha Centauri,

Beyond Hoth, Camino

And Naboo

TELE-pathically,

From QuantumSpaceAttachments,

Leaving traces,

Just for you.

Within The Streams

2011-01-12T11:10:00.001+01:00

Within the streams of sleeplessness,
In dark lands that deny you dreams,
With thoughts that dare deny you silence,
With voices of the future, screams...

... with all these things that make you sleepy,
And yet lack of serenity,
You need catharsis of ideas,
You need a muse, a fractal tree...

You need a map of mind,
A distance,
to this Self that tries to fight,
The chaos of your odd existence,
You need for this, an odder light.

BIO

2010-10-26T12:00:00.007+02:00

Born.

Inserted in homo s. sapiens paradigmatic society of dreams, tabus, irationality and reason.

Loved.

Left.

Philosophically traumatised by the thought of the Loneliness of Man.

Uncertainty.

Met Art and Lyric.

Embraced Metaphors.

Cried.

Dreamed.

Lost.

Depression.

Hope.

Circles, again and again.

Skepsis and Desire.

Faith, and the Faithless.

Fate.

Confusion.

The Here and Now. The Ever and Forever. The Yesterday of Tomorrow.

Sorrow.

This, That and Those.

Language, Understanding.

Other Demons.

Ending.

~Secret Society~

2010-10-15T16:29:00.001+02:00

There was a sheet of paper, white,

For a sad writer’s last delight,

And on the canvas’s carmine night

In coral red I sit and write...

...about the dreams I used to dream,

About the darkness and the steam,

About some roses which redeem,

A spirit lost in ocean's stream.

...about the shadows within light,

About the pale amaranth sight

That guides my eyes, maybe in spite

Of reason, to an endless fight.

...I think a secret was the theme,

But rather I will not blaspheme.

I'll leave the silence to a scream.

And to the reader my esteem.

Evil Dreams

2010-10-15T16:01:00.002+02:00

Deep from the silence - filled with blood,

The cup of ever-changing season -

Enchanting liquid for the soul,

Beyond all doubt, beyond all reason.

Beyond the times of all that’s been,

An evil pulse, so far from Eden.

His is the victory, so often -

His eyes glance ghastly back to me,

His words so luring, sinful passion,

Whisper of nightmares yet to be.

Too decadent is human nature,

Too blind these eyes – too darkly...

I'd like to fight, to break from time,

From particles and to release

My soul that never has existed -

I'm dying, but the will is his.

And much too often I'm his slave,

My wings are cut, my thoughts - they cease...

Dark Prayer

2010-10-15T14:52:00.001+02:00

From time to time I'd wish to pray,

But all my Gods, they flew away;

Leaving no darkness, fear, nor light

Behind... Just dreams, deluding sight.

Sometimes I'd wish to turn my eyes,

To heaven or to hell, to lies.

But all I see - seconds in gray -

With no tomorrow - just today.

In moments, I would like to speak

To sacred shadows of antique

Places they used to hide a law -

Below - Above - Above - ... Below...

There is no space, no time - just you.

A shade of mist, which could undo

A secret kept eons of light -

A muse, sweet glance of shadow's night.

But NEVER could art dare reveal,

The feeling through forms so unreal...

OR all these lines (moments in blue),

The tragedy of loosing you.

...and still I pray - that time would turn

The future - in a sea of storm,

Where waves would be a tres chic rue,

Leading me, darling, back to you...

Flami-Limbo - [D]A(anti) [D]A(rt)

2010-10-15T14:36:00.004+02:00

Did I watch your eyes of ice

Melt in fire of desire?

Did this clock tick tack the dice,

Forming a vermillion liar?

Neither you, nor him, nor me,

Would discuss the real idea -

I just wanted, him to be

A cold passionate child of Rhea!

(...)

And now watching my Flamingo,

They have seen the words spin trials!

Wishing I’d stop chasing Limbo,

Nurtured have they, their denials...

Time and Lo

2010-10-14T23:46:00.006+02:00

Thus I begin.

Eternal Sin.

I am the darkness from within,

I am like satin, can you feel?

I am a sacred, evil seal.

Passion I am in crimson skies,

I am the mist, made up by lies,

A dream in "Hollywood Cerise",

A delightful French "surprise".

I am the sound of clockwork gears-

I am a music, of the spheres

And I’m a fractalized illusion

Within a dandy carbon fusion.

A moment of a brilliant white,

A melody - love at first sight.

And I'm the notes which dance behind

The darkest corners of your mind.

I am a death note, demons ink,

I am the poison you will drink.

I am eternities away,

I am the artist, I'm the play.

I am the flames which do entice

You to get lost in mirror’s ice.

I am a path, a labyrinth,

A-maze-ingly deadly absinth.

I am a cloud - arsenic grey -

To guide you on a hellish way,

And I am heaven, moment’s muse -

And you'd know just, how to abuse,

The words to make me die again -

In 'how' and 'where' and sometimes 'when'...

I’m now a serpent, silver dust -

And then a phoenix, to your lust.

I am a nymph, metamorphizing

In oceans blue, from foam arising.

I am the utopia of science,

A perfect paradigm for violence,

Quantum cognitive distorted,

A kiss so far, a touch so wanted.

I'm carried by silk of lavender,

Sometimes so cold, sometimes so tender,

Sometimes just sea-sand, sometimes snow,

Sometimes a gothic, diffuse glow...

I am just lines, pathetic thrill,

To loose the thought and start to feel.

I am the light - Eons ago -

And beyond Time I stand, you know,

Law of uncertainty... Just Lo.

Time’s Theatre

2010-08-10T22:09:00.001+02:00

Walking on stairs so black and cold,

In nightshade of a moon so bitter,

In arms of marble, you I'd hold...

(I'd read the thought

Your mind would not)

And dream of dark, a critter...

...that seeks the pain, for me to read

With eyes of silver through the light.

And there’s a path. You want to lead -

(Away from time

Within the rhyme)

Me, into a fading night...

--------------------------------------------

Whispering a song enchanting,

Telling dimensions to split

In her mind, cognitions starting

(To implode,

Then to explode)

In multiverses' perfect fit.

A birth of time, a clock in space

A diamond of ideas.

A figurant in speeding race

(Reflecting

And dissecting)

Who often fails to see us.

The Demon and The Muse

2010-08-09T20:48:00.001+02:00

I'm on a journey, left from hell, eternities diffuse -

Lost through the numbers, and through forms

I found a silver muse...

Her melodies were waves so red, of passion, my first thought.

And entering her labyrinth,

Her mind, I think, I sought...

---------------------------------------------------------------------

My worlds were lines of sin ethereal; dreamy, darkly flames.

I left an ice palace and oceans

Wished for enchanting games...

Became an architect of heavens, with clouds in endless blue.

My eyes reflected sadly matter

‘Til there was mist, designed by you...

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Observing her, as twisted thoughts, ideas of a child -

A nymphet still, lonely ideals-

I brought her fire, made her wild...

To dive in fractals of her mind, to lure her teary eyes,

To end the innocence within

I morphed in white disguise...

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The sounds of rain, touching his wings, I know he is not real,

Neither am I, nor will I be,

And still he makes me want and feel.

And he reminded me of darkness, the essence that I was, sublime

And now my journey is distorted

An empty space, eternal time...

Do Not Read

2010-08-09T20:44:00.002+02:00

The feeling lost, a crystal river
Along horizons, light blue shiver.

Along a thought, now gone forever.
A tear transforming "now" in "never".

A tear, too dark, for eyes to know
The path of light, the silver glow.

The path to twilight, serpentines
In changing space of river times.

In changing elements of sin,
As you can feel evil within.

As you can feel hearts purest love
Ascending to a hell ...above.

Ascending with dark wings of time,
On stairs of roses, so sublime.

On stairs that lead to Neverland,
To storms of mind, to thoughts of sand...

© 2010 Lith Ium

Temptation of the Odd

2010-08-01T22:28:00.001+02:00

... that winter night faded to glitter,

The snowflakes white, times sweet, times bitter...

On my empty, frozen eye.

I tried to sleep and dream and lie

In endless fluff – In vain I try.

I’d love to, but I cannot wither...

...and still I fall, in deep blue oceans,

where Up and Down are empty notions...

And where the coldness lies.

I thought I could be touching skies

But clouds, like truth, are made of lies,

And filled with void emotions...

...this winter night, it starts again,

The snowflakes land upon my pen...

They must be very shy.

I hope to keep my pages dry,

Yet snowflakes fade, snowflakes deny.

There is no Why, no When.

W…

2010-07-27T22:30:00.005+02:00

Where is my soul? It lies in snow.
When will it die? I do not know.
Why all this coldness, why the chill?
Who are you, night? So dark, unreal.
What are these flames, so silver-white?
Winter might tell, and I shall write.

What it will be? Forms are so final.
Where it will lead? Ask time - the spiral.
When it will end? Fractals would know.
Who is the "I", that will not grow?
Why – always the eternal question.
Winter, the season - my detention.

© 2010 Lith Ium

Pathetique

2010-07-21T23:29:00.005+02:00

Details - detachment; dawn of sorrow:

Today I cry;

And die tomorrow.

Eternity - I seek in blue -

And all I find

Behind - is you.

For all my senses - so sublime...

I challenge space,

I race with time.

But neither time nor space could tell

That heaven’s games

Are flames of hell.

That angel eyes could lie so sweet.

That I'm unreal

Until we meet.

Essential, abstract, bare illusion.

Sad little line -

With divine fusion.

What could be poison,

If not love?

Beneath your soul,

Beyond, above...

Still complex tears -

Redeemer’s choice,

That had as muse

The devil's voice.

De Res Extensa

2010-07-19T21:36:00.004+02:00

Detached I watch my soul - I left it -
Behind the walls of glamor, shine
I felt so lost ...
... Searching the heartbeat -
Because I think, it was once mine.

And color, forms, spirals ascending -
In time that melts beneath my eye
I'm watching ...
... And the nature's sending,
Too sleep, another firefly.

© 2010 Lith Ium

Ice Eyes

2010-07-14T21:55:00.004+02:00

Reflecting ice crystals so dark

In waters dim, and mirrors clear -

In quantum space, virtual sphere

An island on a floating quark.

The picture tainted, storm too cold.

The mirror - an enlightened door -

Reversing words, makes one explore

The soul, the sense, yet so untold.

And now... she prays for tears to split,

The pain in thousand and a thought,

That could engrave lies so long sought -

In ice eyes. With the flame unlit.

Surreal Poem

2010-07-13T21:44:00.004+02:00

I took a pen in fashion pink.

And a tabula rasa.

And burning passion was the ink-

The letters dancing salsa.

I start to write about your eyes

And stars - my destination.

And my sweet blanket are the skies

And clouds – a strange creation.

I write on fog, on rain, on snow,

And hope for the eternal.

And all the words - a perfect flow

For once a dying journal.

I’d wish you'd know they are for you

These rhymes from hell ascending.

But you are real, you have a view...

And I, a shell… descending.

Heaven in Hell (or viveversa)

2010-07-10T02:09:00.008+02:00

“But never doubt I love …”

W. Shakespeare

Time is ticking, can you hear,
The spirals waves are sending?
And digging voids to a nadir
above your eyes just pending?

It could be heaven, and yet cold...
And hell might steal your fire.
To all regrets - your soul is sold,
Doubt truth to be a liar.

© 2010 Lith Ium

X746P7X45P4H

Illusions of A Too Lost Self

2010-07-05T20:28:00.004+02:00

...

I am a wave, of darkness, sorrow.

I am a particle, so hollow

I am the nightmare of a dream

I'm always somewhere in between.

I am a universe of light

I am the essence of the night.

I am a circle, white and black,

I am the serpent, ‘round your neck.

I am an angel with dark eyes,

I am a demon. I'm a dice.

I am the ocean of your mind,

I am the sky, in front, behind,

As ice am I, so frozen, cold.

I am the flames you strive to hold.

I am the passion, so euphoric

And I’m indifference of a cleric.

I'm heaven with hell's flames included

I'm love, I'm hate, so perfect tainted

I am a question, spiral blue.

I am an answer, even two...

I'm the illusion of the day,

I am reality in grey.

I am the dust of stars in void

I am created and destroyed.

I am the center of it all -

I am the limit, I'm the wall.

I am the rain that tastes like sand.

I'm the beginning, I'm the end.

I am the sunshine, gothic glam-

I am, I am, I am, I am...

Ars Poetica

2010-06-24T08:31:00.004+02:00

I was afraid, to chip away, this crystal, dark and icy,

To bring it much to close

To Flames -

But he, he did it for me.

He ripped apart my soul, my thoughts, and darkness fell upon me,

I thought I’d see in time

The Flames -

And followed him quite blindly…

Denial, child, did not help much, nor did your tears in absence.

A symphony and notes

Of flames -

Divided into silence.

And still the story does go on in one frozen forever,

That thrills you, lets you feel

In Flames.

Your mind sold to this captor.

\\/\//1|_|>

2010-06-23T09:31:00.004+02:00

Mind my momentary mistitled malediction, -

Mind-munching mice migrated miles, monsieur,

Maybe misleading me, mixing my medication,

My mental microchip's most maddening malheur.

Macrocephallic microbes meet my mentality, -

Might mention mazes melt - midsession-thing malfunction -,

Makes misconducted mice misapprehending me.

Maybe malicious minds mistake my mis-compunction.

My mission - misconceived. Misclassified, miscolored.

My methods mostly mistimed, moreover motionless.

My mid-night-mares mementos, monocularly mastered,

Misspell my memory. Monochromatic mess.

MonoDiaLogs

2010-06-22T20:20:00.006+02:00

00.00

-That spot of a dark red light, is it...

-My blood. My life running away from its window.

-But the light –

-Only illusions of this damned mansion... I can’t remember where...

-Where?

-Nowhere. I can’t find it.

-Maybe you’re looking at the wrong light. You’re looking only at that stupid, dark red, WRONG light...

-It’s my blood, I thought... I thought I’ll never see it and yet...

-You can’t see, you are-

-Blind. How did this happen? If I only could remember where...

-Sssh. The flames. They are around... waiting, I can see them glancing-

-At my eyes. Maybe that is the reason I am...

-Blind. Blink. You’re eyes are wounded. I can’t see your...

-Tears. Why? I think I’m lost. I don’t know... when I've last time entered...

-Through a door? You’ve been going along these walls for ages... Do you...

-I see.

-No.

-I remember seeing once. But only walls. I never really... saw anything else.

-You always have ...

- ...been blind.

-And now the light.

-The dark red light. Do you think I should...

-Follow it.

-But the flames...

-Your eyes are wounded anyway.

-My tears. Where...

-Follow it.

-I’m afraid I might loose my eyes forever. The light – I thought ... I thought it is my blood – the life I was looking ...

-For? For what? You can’t look, you’re not even able to see... But...

-How did I get here? Where was the door? I remember...

-Going through the flames might bring you to the next...

-Door. But I see only walls... And I’m sure that beyond the next door... there too, will be...

-Only walls. Your eyes can’t see anything but walls. They are...

-Wounded. I know that I had them once, my tears. If only I could remember where...

-Close your eyes, child.

-It’s late.

-For you.

-To go through the flames?

-You already did. Now it’s too late.

-For?

-You.

-I see.

-No...

-I’m already beyond the second door...

-And still walls.

-But the flames are now everywhere... I really need my...

-Tears; let your eyes rest, close them.

-I need my eyelids...

-You’re blind anyway.

-And still walls. Only walls... and flames... and my reflection in them.

-Only illusions of this dark mansion. You are blind. Now close your eyes...

Universe in Black and Blue

2010-06-02T08:35:00.005+02:00

He set a blue flame in a rhyme:

A cradle full of fire,

To, once upon, a frozen time,

All dark clocks will aspire.

He set it; slowly crawling up

The blue flame, blue enchanting-

And pouring darkness in the cup,

He said: "... for you, my darling..."

She never thought it could be black,

Illusions were so blue...

And lost between the Tick and Tack,

Her eyes were loosing hue.

Her blood so blue, her eyes now dark

Black, empty, fading. Colorless.

Her mind just walking in the park

In blue and black. MonochromeEndless.

Message

2010-05-31T10:59:00.008+02:00

Your world is filled with doubting letters,

They build the poems that you seek

To be your soul, blushing unique,

In pictures dark, one candle matters.

Your mind, an altar of white marble:

The angel carves black thoughts in it.

By nonsense - demons will outwit

With sensuality so subtle...

And you are dancing, silent dreaming,

Of every whisper sounding right.

A last message, to my delight:

The reader lost defines the meaning.

The Face of Happiness

2010-05-08T00:57:00.006+02:00

Happiness is a sound, beyond music and reason,

Beyond words, so numb, - it is like a season

Of a bipolar being, swinging on waves

Of shadows and lights, within caves.

Happiness is a demon, I hate it, I admit.

And often I dream on, trying to outwit

It's web of lies and delusion and sound,

Thus I run away and hope not to be found.

Happiness has a face with round, empty eyes,

And with its bodyless body, it floats above skies,

Like a kite crawling and stealing the light,

From the sun. And you're left with the night.

Happiness is confusion with a hypnotic stare,

It is like the fusion of an abstract affair

With the concrete of thought - or of sin,

It is scary, it's terror and darkness within!

o.O

The Face of Doubt

2010-04-22T23:49:00.004+02:00

A third time pass'd they by, and, passing, turn'd

Each one the face a moment whiles to me ... "

"Ode of Indolence", J. Keats

...

Doubt has three faces, each equal, doubting
Equality. And each one chanting,
The story of the other's err.

And see their eyes, they are now haunting,
In questions infinite, are taunting
The mind these faces sadly share.

One floats above, a seeking shadow
Of principals - it doubts the 'real'.

One sinks below, in oceans hollow,
It feels, then stops, then doubts to feel.

One in the middle - writes on a memo,
The pros and cons and seeks a seal,
From infinite and back to zero
Forever doubting it will heal.

Doubt has three faces, each one a mirror:
The Weak, the Strong - between the Lost.
Sometimes they're far, but sometimes closer.
Three faces - meadows, fire, frost.

© 2010 Lith Ium

The End Of The World

2010-01-31T01:39:00.008+01:00

If we are to Start, why not with an Ending? After all, everything we do is related to the End of Some-Thing. The End of Working-Hours, the End of a Project, the End of the Day. The End is eagerly expected, since the End is the Point. When "End" comes, we, as Homo Endicons, may relieved start ... waiting for another End.

And what can be MORE of an END than the *End of The Word*. THE End. The End of all Endings.

So, "you" see, it shall now lie in our infinite empathy and tolerance to understand the Others (yes, there are always the "Others"), when they frantically, fearfully and dramatically predict, "again and as always", the End of The World.

Eschatology - that part of teo-philosophy that tells you how the Universe, and other, more antropomorphized Forces will play "kick the can" with you - reassures our Others that they're inner, emotional desire of an End (... and with it, of a Point, of course) is an objective reality. There are Signs everywhere. And if something goes wrong - that is, if an Ending-of-the-World does not End with an Ending ... there is always mathematics there, to be blamed.

"We" people, are after all, made of numbers [lets blame the mailman / we are numbers / on your frame / the voices in the other end]*. We, people, are not perfect. Ergo, to conclude the syllogism, Numbers are not perfect.

Besides, Numbers never *End*. Awful critters.

If Theudas was wrong, or Ben Zakkai, Rabbi Jose ... or all the other Rabbis and Messengers of our dear End have failed, it is only the fault of Mathematics. Or the Fault of "Reality" - why won't it End?! We summoned "its" death over 200 times ( and counting : http://www.bible.ca/pre-date-setters.htm ).

Does Reality not Realise it is NOT WANTED?

"It's pretty late, you know, and End will soon be comming for a visit. I really wished you could stay a while longer, but I understand you have now other problems to solve(hopefully far, far, faaar away from Terra!). So long, Reality!" [Diplomatic smile fades with every step Reality takes towards the Abyss.]

***

Furthermore, this Pre-Post-Apocalyptic Memes are delicious. They give us the Hope of being able to live or be relieved of - all our psychoses. In the desolate desert that will strech itself into the infinite horizons of poisoned air, we shall remember the Great War, and finally be free, and alone, and lonely. As we ever were, only now, with an "objective" cause.

* "Division of Laura Lee" Band - "We are Numbers"

Late In November ... We Shall Wonder ...

2009-10-12T15:16:00.001+02:00

The Consent

~ by Howard Nemerov

Late in November, on a single night
Not even near to freezing, the ginkgo trees
That stand along the walk drop all their leaves
In one consent, and neither to rain nor to wind
But as though to time alone: the golden and
green

Leaves litter the lawn today, that yesterday
Had spread aloft their fluttering fans of light.
What signal from the stars? What senses took it
in?

What in those wooden motives so decided
To strike their leaves, to down their leaves,
Rebellion or surrender? And if this
Can happen thus, what race shall be exempt?
What use to learn the lessons taught by time,
If a star at any time may tell us: Now.

We close the eyes before heaven, and are flabbergasted by the darkness. We seek the sounds, and picture them as answers, and draw them outside time ... to fit within a rhyme.

For A Scientist, I'm Pretty Lyrical

2009-09-28T18:43:00.001+02:00

Soliloquy of the Solipsist

~ Sylvia Plath

I walk alone;

The midnight street

Spins itself from under my feet;

When my eyes shut

These dreaming houses all snuff out;

Through a whim of mine

Over gables the moon's celestial onion

Hangs high.

Make houses shrink

And trees diminish

By going far; my look's leash

Dangles the puppet-people

Who, unaware how they dwindle,

Laugh, kiss, get drunk,

Nor guess that if I choose to blink

They die.

When in good humor,

Give grass its green

Blazon sky blue, and endow the sun

With gold;

Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold

Absolute power

To boycott any color and forbid any flower

To be.

Know you appear

Vivid at my side,

Denying you sprang out of my head,

Claiming you feel

Love fiery enough to prove flesh real,

Though it's quite clear

All you beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,

From me.

***

Dilemma : Has a Solipsist the Right to feel Lonely?

No? 3.

2009-09-16T19:48:00.000+02:00

"Take care, your worship, those things over there are not giants but windmills."

~ Don Quixote de la Mancha, by Miguel Cervantes

I dream of dreams of the unexpected. Images of the odd, which... seem not odd, but follow an order, a logic which looses it'self' in the unknown strings of time. I have different memories, in my dreams, - all spin themselves inside my perceptions as the worms of illusion so often do. Inside people. Eating, or, perhaps, feeding their dreams.

And the days, all now seem equal, and the nights spend their darkness motionless in the 'sight of thought'... and windy dreams so often crawl towards their source ... the windmills.

The giants ... they scare me when I reach out for an image spawn in the deep sea of my ... mind? Self? Addiction... to being and ... to time?

To sea ... to Sea or not to See? That is the question.

... and the Dilemma : Are We our Dreams, or are our Dreams Us?

I try To Make Time

2009-09-15T15:01:00.004+02:00

I try to make time,

Inside vesicles of idleness,

And shout out particles

Of art and the enzyme

That catalyzes ceaselessness.

I bring ideas and forms,

To Beings and pray they would listen.

But empty eyes reveal the distance

From me and the worms

Of the dreams in crimson.

I write dimensions,

And force creatures in realms and beyond,

Enlighten them, yet they don't,

Appreciate my tensions,

Of which my spirit is so fond.

I end up alone,

In every chapter, every story

Without the climax of a glory,

Between letters of my own,

Never free, but fluffy, curly.