Again

Oh, how I miss writing, making paper planes and throwing them into the air one by one..

Hope to come back soon...

Secret Chiefs

"that's it...the end of the silky expectations and some melodical moments , don't know how manyth time, of the magical synchronization waving in the air like blue kites..." said Esmeralda while she removed her shiny laughters and hung them above the fireplace where the fire had been put out by some careless bastard.

"Open the deaf chest over there and pick up a warm blanket you have saved for bad winters like this, put some Chaplin movie and pretend that it never happened, was just a dream.." whispered the chimney...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JYiESrCDOuo

Persian Dreams

first drizzling, slow and coy

it's the flirting clouds

then splashing even screaming

in delirium

manifesting being alive

it's the waters of the earth

someone picking strawberries

someone being served their juice

some trees growing more wrinkles

manifesting being alive

I am seeing Sohrab in dream

A sweet numbness that is

"didn't I tell you" says he

some waving hands

cold as winter leaves

some stretching smiles

warm as fireplace snaps

or fishermen whistles

first drizzling then splashing

"how many of them left"

I'm not the last

wondering

snow

calling out the cacoon once again

a loud silence

except for some distant music

once shared, to be held onto

once again

white storks carrying hope

from west to east

and vice versa

and me

to be remembered

by myself

once again

Marie has gone

Everytime I called her Marie
like her longgone love used to
she laughed and advised me to have a baby
also made me promise to tell her first
when I have someone to marry

now
her vase in the living room, flowerzgone
her smiling face, laughters
countless ditties linger
in the waters of our minds
grandmazgone

Bergamot

dream within a dream
flying delicate images
in an ever-flowing stream
humming birds on the shore
bossa nova scented air
approaching laughters
light clouds wrapped in blue cream
we watch ever-green smiles
of the woods and the fairies

when dreams put reals in sleep
are you the one to give me a hand
to carry the secret, sshhh
I can read your lips
as well as
you see my dreams

stories to sing

they

so much to say
yet so fond of
silence
fragile

like crocus flowers
undersized
but glowing
with some sacred news

a small , skinny boat
loading, off loading
or a dizzy pendulum
ebbs and flows
with burning limits
yet happy lives
leaking laughters
of the skies


http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=things%20in%20life%20dennis%20brown

AN EPIPHANY OR JUST REMEMBERING LIFE

It has been thirty years, at least the part that could be tracked down by our man-made time machines, and life never seized to surprise me, amaze me. Perhaps that’s what polishes my smile every now and then.

In seconds, you can get in touch with a person who you did not even know existed in this world. Do you say ‘random’? Well quantum physicists suggest that there are no objects but relationships. There is no locality, no time. Electron or any elementary particle exists only in relationship to other things. Energetically we are all linked, everything is interconnected. Then, might individuality really be an illusion?

I guess we shape our subjective reality with our own choices, the things we choose to see/experience in life constitute ourselves, our beings. Even the songs I choose to listen now, while writing these, give shape to my mood. Music mashes together with my thoughts and feelings, enters into my material world with harmonized steps, just like a new spring approaching slowly to northern hemisphere and bringing about a fresh medium for our ability to love to nourish again. Although there may be countless souls splashed with the waters of love in winter, the air we breathe getting warmer little by little for sure has great impact on humans in such a way that it stimulates our sub-atomic particles cunningly, shakes them, tickles them, and we choose to fall, to stumble, to wade or just to run towards loving another soul. Afterwards, raising the question “who fired the gun” or “why did we fire that gun” would be meaningless. Past disappointments, supposedly wrong choices would not stop one getting bedazzled by the beauty of a blue-eyed grey cat or a red-eyed white rabbit. This delirium just like that of young horses with happy roars would rise up fluttering and manifest: we are all interconnected!, and cool breezes would play with hair of humans of all shades, all colors who choose to open up their chests to let the spring in. Stolen suns of those with bitter smiles would be brought back. Smiles would be polished by morning dews.

Then we all would have the right to choose what is real and what is not.

I still hear them, some faded laughter from my old springs, some fingerprints all over my spirit. I still remember those who departed at some intersections, who still carry my grace with. Alas, I have got a path to walk on, I have got a reality of my own in the making, and thanks to Lord springs bring along more hope, epiphanic moments and rememberance.

Spring lets love rule

I missed being here..was just taking a break from words, they never wanted to leave me though, were dancing altogether, sometimes noisily sometimes gently and quitely, in my mind...

Yes. Mrs. Spring has showed her face again and I am feeling sleazily romantic these days:) This must be contagious and I am tagging you people, you're it!

Lets listen from Cat Power: Lived in Bars & Where is my love

(I will be here again, soon..)

who is to fire the gun?

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=WHY%20DID%20WE%20FIRE%20THE%20GUN%20WALDECK

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=memories%20WALDECK