bits and pieces of words
and sentences
swirl around
in my mind
but fall short of a coherent story
had i not forgotten
all of those love songs
i heard in my childhood
on the radio on sunday mornings
i could describe
the beautiful smell of
burnt slices of bread
my father used to make
on the gas stove
(i still eat my toast burnt)
or watching a cat sleep
in the sun
as i waited for my mother
to come back from grocery shopping
after school
(i still watch cats sleep
with an indescribable yearn for
someone to arrive)
but words swirl beyond my control
incoherent ever
much like the history i belong to
whose soundtrack was
the love songs i have forgotten
from scratchy 45s
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
bad things happen to good people
everyday
even if they all believe
they all are immune to such things
by virtue of being "good"
as all young believe
they all are invincible
by virtue of being young
but
in the long run
the rate of survival
drops to zero
for everybody
regardless of being "good"
or young
or both
i guess i realize that
we all live in the state of denmark
where something rotten is always afoot
infecting good people
or that i have grown old
or both
everyday
even if they all believe
they all are immune to such things
by virtue of being "good"
as all young believe
they all are invincible
by virtue of being young
but
in the long run
the rate of survival
drops to zero
for everybody
regardless of being "good"
or young
or both
i guess i realize that
we all live in the state of denmark
where something rotten is always afoot
infecting good people
or that i have grown old
or both
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
drifting aimlessly
where i don't know
i know the time
i know my geographical coordinates
dead accurate
yet i am desperately lost
in my mind's geography and history
where i don't know
i know the time
i know my geographical coordinates
dead accurate
yet i am desperately lost
in my mind's geography and history
Flashback: December 31, 2008
okay this is it
we are ruffing it
in a city we don't know at all
we share a very very cold night
with a million of other people
realized that i missed that feeling of
being part of the machine of a large city
terribly
zipping through
in a train
in the warm guts of the city
no worries
my mind resonates
with the rumble of the trains,
cars, people walking, talking,
the nondescript white noise of
what surrounds us
within the concrete, the steel, the glass
moving
cold but happy
we are ruffing it
in a city we don't know at all
we share a very very cold night
with a million of other people
realized that i missed that feeling of
being part of the machine of a large city
terribly
zipping through
in a train
in the warm guts of the city
no worries
my mind resonates
with the rumble of the trains,
cars, people walking, talking,
the nondescript white noise of
what surrounds us
within the concrete, the steel, the glass
moving
cold but happy
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
i hit the streets
in this city which used to be
a workers' paradise
one of the many
where hunger was said to be banished
forever
'forever' can be very a short time
sometimes
two old men with their salty faces
would testify to that
as they rummaged the garbage
to find something to eat
they were somebody's son
somebody's brother, husband, lover
once
now they shared their
hunger over a piece of baked potato
(mostly skin)
and a half eaten sandwich
(mostly bread)
in a bus stop
people who have nothing
knew the value of sharing the most
it seemed
then
a moral semaphore spoke to me
in his tom waits voice
pointing to them
"no matter how bad things get
you will not be like them"
then again
neither my better angels
nor my worst daemons
can't predict for shit
i finished my sandwich in a hurry
in this city which used to be
a workers' paradise
one of the many
where hunger was said to be banished
forever
'forever' can be very a short time
sometimes
two old men with their salty faces
would testify to that
as they rummaged the garbage
to find something to eat
they were somebody's son
somebody's brother, husband, lover
once
now they shared their
hunger over a piece of baked potato
(mostly skin)
and a half eaten sandwich
(mostly bread)
in a bus stop
people who have nothing
knew the value of sharing the most
it seemed
then
a moral semaphore spoke to me
in his tom waits voice
pointing to them
"no matter how bad things get
you will not be like them"
then again
neither my better angels
nor my worst daemons
can't predict for shit
i finished my sandwich in a hurry
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
it is strange that
a beautiful melody can bring one
down to his knees so easily
a journey into dark night's shadows
with bits of that wonderful melody
snuck within my ear
and whatever the irreversible damage of time is
as i grow older to become what i become
bits and pieces i rescue from
what is unlikely
feed my engine within
but the dark is strewn with
fake plastic people
fake plastic smiles
fake plastic...
my fingers in my ears
trying desperately keep that melody in my head
repeating to myself
"i know who i am
i know who i am..."
less convincing each time
becoming more and more
a fake plastic version of myself
a beautiful melody can bring one
down to his knees so easily
a journey into dark night's shadows
with bits of that wonderful melody
snuck within my ear
and whatever the irreversible damage of time is
as i grow older to become what i become
bits and pieces i rescue from
what is unlikely
feed my engine within
but the dark is strewn with
fake plastic people
fake plastic smiles
fake plastic...
my fingers in my ears
trying desperately keep that melody in my head
repeating to myself
"i know who i am
i know who i am..."
less convincing each time
becoming more and more
a fake plastic version of myself
Flashback: October 6, 2002
i have seen
hate can sometimes be like a fresh
loaf of bread one breaks among
many many daemons one harbors
in one's head, heart and groin
some are worse than the others
some just hungrier
then i have lived
drunkenness can be the softest pillow
for a restless and uneasy heart
just as well being drugged
can carry a damn bad mood
to a plain tasteless flat
just to realize
there is no magic to the world
nor is there someone looking
over my shoulders to see if i did okay
and i ain't no atlas
this shit ain't easy!
on this vast plain of nothingness
there is no rhyme or reason
for none of the good or bad
ever committed
just senseless random collisions
of human bodies
even the language i shamelessly
employ to do my artificial and
none-the-less conceited deed
is devised to lubricate this
process of dying, eating, fucking
anything and everything human
rooted in dirt and manure
yet dreaming impossible skies
with wings made out of wax
no!
no escape!
no hope!
hate can sometimes be like a fresh
loaf of bread one breaks among
many many daemons one harbors
in one's head, heart and groin
some are worse than the others
some just hungrier
then i have lived
drunkenness can be the softest pillow
for a restless and uneasy heart
just as well being drugged
can carry a damn bad mood
to a plain tasteless flat
just to realize
there is no magic to the world
nor is there someone looking
over my shoulders to see if i did okay
and i ain't no atlas
this shit ain't easy!
on this vast plain of nothingness
there is no rhyme or reason
for none of the good or bad
ever committed
just senseless random collisions
of human bodies
even the language i shamelessly
employ to do my artificial and
none-the-less conceited deed
is devised to lubricate this
process of dying, eating, fucking
anything and everything human
rooted in dirt and manure
yet dreaming impossible skies
with wings made out of wax
no!
no escape!
no hope!
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