The art of loneliness

The immaculate, white wall of the sanatorium,

the fleas, the bugs, the absence of rugs,

the lack of sounds,

or the rat-a-tat-tat,

constantly penetrating

the enclosure of the lonely,

the peace of the one and only.

In the garden of solitude,

Where her and his only companions

are fleeting thoughts and sentient beings,

Loneliness becomes an art

and the vacant space

enough to fill the heart.

Is she lonely?

Is he alone?

They might be,

but vibrate in silence.

Hush…

For it is the art of loneliness!

Down on Earth

Down on Lonely Avenue

I tripped

On a hell of a shell

And I fell

Me, an urban hippie

My floral gown, ripped…

Down in the void

A misfit, a rugged bearded man

Escaping, condemning society, materialism

Created his den

An onion, maybe ten

Layers and layers of Zen

Down on Lonely Avenue

My bloody knees

I lost my keys!

I might even have a kidney disease

Please… freeze, or maybe sneeze

To be accident-prone used to be fun

Like a pun

Now, it’s just a bull run.

Down in the void

I try to hold my own

Away from it all

At times, a Buddha in my soul

Seldom, as mad as Sigmund Freud

It’s quiet and free

under this Banyan tree

It’s lonely

only me and the green tea.

Down on Lonely Avenue

I crawl on concrete

I almost lost my wit

Everyone’s laughing at my outfit

My pain, my care

I wanted to transmit

Yet… the masses only perceive

that my cardigan is vintage and double- knit

Down in the void

The retired fellow

On a pension scheme

Of one and a half marshmallow

Banished himself and his cello

to this world of mellow

down bellow.

He renounced the sun

and all of its yellow.

Down on Lonely Avenue

The cruel with all their expensive fuel

Invaded the street

Their feet clad in meat

They bargain and tweet

I admit my defeat

Descend in the void

Oh, wonder!

Who is this other humanoid?

Love Metamorphosis

 

Love,

Simple,

Peaceful and fulfilling

For some, for most.

Love,

Multiple personality disorder

Or possibly,

Borderline personality disorder

For me.

 

A voice that speaks sublime,

That chants his name to the sky

But suddenly, a makeover!

The lucky clover turns to ash

And belladonna comes to crush

Fragile, the soul exposed

You flush!

Fragile, naked to the eye,

Your essence unveiled

Free and available

To users and abusers.

The skin, so soft, translucent

Trembles under his fingertips

And then it cracks.

You blush!

Passion is a rush

Take the stash

Of distorted voices, of conflicting emotions

And make a run for it

Never to come back!

The panic wave

 

Hear, hear

The king of panic and fear!

it’s Monday

or Sunday

or maybe Friday

the days have departed

a mighty routine started

hours and hours,

and weeks,

a month of bacteria

no cafeteria

a deserted city

there isn’t even a kitty

a bleak soul,

Disinfect each and every bowl

breathe in, breathe out

the virus outside!

This auspicious year

has spread only fear!

Hear, hear

only time can heal.

The elusive Chronos…

he, alone, knows

how itchy is the nose.

The mask speaks

the skin’s so dry

bleach, wash, sanitize

don’t forget your eyes!

Did you order pies?

you better have some spies

if there is fever

you become a receiver.

The apocalypse, sci-fi

ghost towns, the future

Like in the movies

It’s almost quarantine

except it really is…

in Wuhan.

There’s no one around

no peace of mind to be found

Tell me, seer

all these folks

with all their jokes

were they to eat an iris

would it kill the coronavirus?

Horror Story

 

Once upon a time,

There was a gory, hoary dime

With a scary costume,

Promising doom,

A Halloween creature,

In a monochrome feature.

Living in a chocolate ball

Too frightened to fall.

The dime and his shawl

Were playing a role!

Sad and alone,

All they wished for…

Was  a doll!

To whisper some eerie tunes

and climb on some bleary dunes.

The dime and his friends,

All Halloween threads

Special,

with a hint of peculiar,

Were crawling in the sewer

Scheming to murder

The prehistoric hotelier

with his own mortar!

It’s all too familiar!

It’s all getting clearer!

A living dime, some rags and a killer

It’s a Halloween story thriller!

Murder on the Orient Express

Orient Express: My dream, my fantasy, my inspiration.

 

An international affair,

Murder and le bon air,

Velvet, stockings, lace and silk,

A moral hazard,

Retro crimson shoes,

The sound of soft steps,

Tak, tak, tak, tak…

On the Orient Express.

Candlelit dinner,

La Belle Époque,

Mischief,

And a well-known thief.

Lips are sour,

The witness swallowed a flower.

From Paris to Constantinople

Mystery, my dear sire!

The truth shall never transpire!

Silence is woe,

Secrets and snow,

Dwell in the shadow.

Spring emerges

 Crime, it purges!

Stealing souls

 

Drink the darkness of your soul,

The oozing venom on patrol.

Feed yourself

With flesh and blood.

Crawl in the mud,

Hide in the shadows!

You, robber of souls!

On twisting and turning lanes

You feast on veins.

A mediocre performer

From dawn to dusk

With twilight

You change so brusque.

You guzzle on people’s vitality,

Thrive on carnality.

You, Dorian Gray of reality!

You, the Mr. Hyde of nightmares!

You,  a modern Dracula!

You, Azrael walking on Earth!

You, soul collector demon!

You move so swiftly,

Yet, your work is filthy!

Terror, terror and downfall!

Terror, terror by nightfall!

My greatest love: The sea

Roman Payne, extract: 

 

“O, wandress, wandress

When did you feel your

most euphoric kiss?

Was I the source

of your greatest bliss?”

Sanya 2

 My greatest love and my most euphoric kiss has been and I think it will always be with the sea. 

My (old style) response to Roman Payne:

 

O, my beloved, my dearest

I shall never love another,

Such devotion is impossible

The way I love thee!

 

I drown my sorrows

Mingle my depths with yours.

Cleanse my body! 

Take my spirit!

All I am

And will ever be.

 

To the waves of your eternity

I lose my boundaries

I tremble at the sight of you

I bid my farewells in silence.

With each return I feel anew

With longing, passion, love

At the sight of you.

 

Caress me, the returning wandress

O, my bewitcher, the sea! 

 

Sanya 3

 

Ugly Souls

decay_by_lorettamay

If God could whisper to us

If God could talk to us

If he could speak out loudly

What could he say?

 

What would he say

About our ugly souls?

Our uses and abuses

Of human souls

Of human bodies

 

We touch, we take, we lie

We force, we break, we die inside

We build and then destroy

We mock, we cry, we die inside

We hurt, we fight, we disregard.

 

Our human souls

Used to be…

Serene and kind

Now they are dark and blind

If God could talk to us

Would he say…

Wash your ugly souls

In fresh and cold mountain waters

In the salty, cleansing waters of the sea.

 

Nature and its purity

Are shaking slowly

Are collapsing wholly

Endangered with our fellow beings.

The cause and the effect of our ugly souls.

 

We punish, we hate, we ignore

We are wrecks, shadows

If we could hear God’s voice

Would we still die inside?

The skill of procrastination


deckchair

This morning, I saw a job ad.

Like all the other job ads,

Like yesterday’s job notification,

Received by email.

Sinking in a bathtub of:

Skills, capabilities, abilities

And the sort

Hard and soft

– What can you do for us?

Personality, emotions

Creativity, uniqueness

Useless.

Praise yourself?

Advertise your skills?

Package your persona, neatly!

Desirable skills:

Teamwork, communication, organization

Leadership, problem-solving

Meeting deadlines, flexibility

Describing aliens

Peeping into neighbors’ houses.

Ups, I got carried away!

 

Don’t have them? Next!

Mass-production, conveyor-belt

Possible job seeker no. 249.

And while I adore the sound

Of abstract sounding donkey-dust skills

I, myself, am the queen of procrastination.

Here’s to my leadership skills of:

Peeling oranges, cutting potatoes

Collecting postcards, gazing at the stars

Spreading butter on toast, window shopping!

I had a dream last night:

Every newspaper’s headline was:

“The coolest job of the 21st century

Requires…..tadam!

The skill of procrastination!

Welcome to my kingdom!