300708

gettin' there

i see you

I see you.
I see you asleep I see you awake.
in my life in my death
I see you.
I see the blind white of your eye
I see your hand pressed on your ears, and
I see the vessel pulsing fast on your wrist.
your hiding is distress.
your hiding is thievery,
and when I hear you rustle:
for a second I flow into your shadow,
for a second I become thief.
and just when I'd utter:
I love you,
darkness swallows you up,
ocean swallows you up.
and yet, clearer than anything
vast within everything
I see you.

the push

AND the tidal wave had come
all consuming. towering over me.
its dazzling white foam cloaks
the shores of dusk intrusively.
oblivious to beauty, I stand.
warm sand forms shapes under my feet.
our dreams disintegrate within unmarked graves,
here, my name will mean nothing.

suffocating silence. I push through
brittle layers of consciousness.
these fluorescent memories from better days
- I clutch my hands over my chest -
this lumber, junk of the heart is the dearest.
it shines through the fabric of my prisoner's garb.
I'd show them to you but you've lost your sight.
an echo of your distance ricochets through the sky.

braving the chaos, I push
forward.
blistered,
I dig for salvation,
I shovel the dirt behind me.
I bleed through my palms for my own sins.
I dig to keep the fear away.
I dig so I can cling onto life,
like the last wretched breath clings on the walls.
so that decades later, I may find the key.
I find the essence: baptised with tears,
sweat and blood, lies in the dirt
the great pile of nothing.

sunday

you, whom they call merciful
give my tears back
give my dream back.
I can not tell how it happened.
it was a sunny morning though.
I heard the Voice.
but now my heart spewed it out
like a stillborn child:
lifeless they fell into the whirpool
of nothing and I did not look back
at the grey flesh.
the departure strangled the stream
and the muse fell with it.

sick

gross? good.

seven sisters

cliffs:





and the only flower i saw on the cliff:

self

epilogue

"Your shadow stretches long on the walls. I will put some more wood on the fire."
"Here. Wear my words to keep you warm, wear them to hide your thoughts."
"I have been running away and found no peace. I found you, the key to the door, or the door itself. Let me in."
"There is a morbid light sweeping the porch tonight. The searchlights caught the corner of my cloak."
"Yes. They are looking for you. Three thousand days and three thousand nights were woven into that cloak, trickery and pain not spared."
"Trickery I fall not for, pain I do not feel. I am still behind the door."
"Let me in. Please."
"You have waited for so painfully long to no avail."
"My supper is cold. Will you return?"
"No."

stitchy - oldie

::just moving some old artwork here::

...what it says on the tin.

latest

I'm not sure what could be the right title for this latest one. the scribble bit was written half asleep, was actually a surprise wake finding it in my notebook the next morning (I'm aware of the unholy grammar and such, tried to keep as close to the original as possible while making it somewhat coherent) the artwork itself was just coming together with no set direction while listening to nine inch nails' ghosts. suggestions welcome.

the end

the stalker

the muse

I can see you wherever you are

hippie post

sometimes I wonder why I keep forgetting to look and see beyond my office desk and the local supermarket. time flies, as they say (and "flies spread diseases"), most of us gaze perplexed having to face how fast it truly flies too; however, at times it's brilliant to see what the fast pace can also bring you. like an early reminder that spring is right here on the porch. even if a tad early this year.

last weekend I was shivering in hail and snow and merciless icy winds, today I watched fat bumblebees buzzing around blooming flowers in the park.

when time goes fast we're either happy or anxious about it. a workday passing quick is always something we take positively (although most of the time we don't realise we rush those hours from our actual life) but for many, when a birthday is nearing we start to wonder where life is whooshing past. this time though, I really don't mind it at all. spring is just round the corner.

what's this?

The nadir (from Arabic ندير nadeer نظير nathir, "opposite") is the astronomical term for the point in the sky directly below the observer, or more precisely, the point in the sky with an inclination of −90°.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nadir

First!

Coming soon....