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!

Of women and doppelgängers

Woman

angelic, but

daring. Complex and

pragmatic. Clever and dreamy.

A being, to respect and whorship

never static, a manufacturer of zeal

Yet, subdued, forgotten, broken, hurt!

Your fiery nature extinguished

by a culture of scarcity

by expectations

by: I ought to

I should, I have to

I need to, I must, I could,

by: You had better, You might want to

check your sanity, lose a little weight, become a mother

be more curvy, have a girl, then a boy, a hybrid if need be

cook like a chef, fuck like a pornstar, have a perfect family

become famous, look incredible, have the ideal job

hike and give speeches, be sexy and assertive

hit the gym 24/7, clean the house, do yoga

be diplomatic and sensitive, get a boob job

volunteer, write a book, get fuller lips

be self-confident, be a natural

but be perfect, bitch!

don’t try too hard, though

be yourself

forge dopplegangers.

You’re never enough

and you can never be

in this society!

A storm’s charm

storm-windmills

Through the storm in our hearts

Through the veil in our minds

Through the blindness in our eyes

A body of storm cries.

Fearful, yet fascinated

Isolated, yet captivated

Contemplating,

Pulsating

With the rage, awaited.

 

 

Through the blinding, scathing winds

Through the loud and gusty grinds

Through the startling, instant thunders

A soul, tormented

Becomes contented.

See the lightnings penetrating

The world, outside!

Safe and sound in the shelter

Inside, a wise elder

Is and flees from, concurrently

A thunderstorm.

 

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?

Wise poet, Su Shi

images.jpg

During the Song dynasty (960-1279 AD), China experienced a flourishing period in arts, culture and poetry. The wise, multi-talented Su Shi, 蘇軾, (1037-1101 AD) was a poet, calligrapher, painter, writer and politician, who wrote many exquisite poems that deserve attention and close analysis. However, today I want to share with you a small excerpt from one of his articles, that contains the essence of Middle Ages Chinese wisdom on destiny and the infinite beauty of nature.

“In this universe everything has its rightful owner. If something does not belong to you then you shall not even have a bit of it. However, the fresh breeze over the rivers and the bright moon above the mountains are exceptions. If you can hear it, it is a sound for you. If you can see it, it is a sight for you. It never ends and it is never exhausted. It is the infinite treasure that nature has for both of us to enjoy.”

The crib of desires

 

From the moon inside your eyes

Grant me favors!

You, enchantress, with your vibes

Feed me,

Need me,

Lead me!

From the atman of the ancient,

Wise and omniscient

Tree of life,

Roots of power,

Rife…

Flood my being

Drain me whole

Shatter dreams

And tear my hopes

Of futile existence,

Of perishable resistance.

Let me sip the flavors

Escape my role of slaver!

Praised divinity,

Allow me to slumber

In the crib of desires

Allow me to savor

The creation of the saver,

Ayahuasca in the woods

Banish this world’s falsehoods

Crush the incessant routine!

From the war of jungles deep

Fashion this grey, tedious scene

Into magic green!

Bring about the fantasy, the mystery

Free me from the shackles of vanity

Stir the foreseen

The sanity, the profanity

We summon the sacred

To wonder as fated

In a maze of visions painted!

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!

Fancy Pantsy and Company!

 

 

 

Bubble wrap,

Wrap your head

In tin foil and fish oil!

Cook your smile

For a little while

In scented candles

Cinnamon sticks,

And all that crap!

Bourgeois baloney.

Swim in a whim

Become a shark’s fin!

4D, 10D, 107 million D

Immerse yourself,

Forget the spirit.

5G and a pumped-up

Steroids-full, plastic-looking geezer.

His name is Deezer

Just swallowed

A few dozen of Hello-Kitty

Fig-wine flavoured Xanax.

The Rhythm of ‘Requiem for a dream’

Causes anxiety

Women wanna be equal

But women wanna be slim.

Your grandma’s underwear,

VR, trendy HR

Neurotic creatures, empty-headed ghosts

All those highly functional

Individuals.

Zombies, feeding on residuals.

Ingesting, digesting, dependent on

Life coaches, hogwash success stories

Drown in consumption.

Too much information,

The pace is the race!

Forget the assumption

That life is deduction.

Goods and goals

Kill our souls!

Linger

 

Words, swords, crowds

Laugh together!

And they mingle.

Drink hot coco

Sniff the roses.

They stain the porcelain cups.

Dive deep in lakes of tea

Emerge spotless.

The journey continues,

This mixture of paraphernalia

Slides down the left ear

Of a grumpy, white cat.

It’s ticklish, it makes me giggle!

Whispered the cat!

As sleepy as I ever was

Just let me linger.

Take your flight!

But it is too late,

A cultural revolution enthralled

This dusty room, this lazy cat.

Let us erase Shakespeare!

Let us forget Keats!

The fate of art is to linger!

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!