Thursday, June 20, 2013


Thinking you're gliding through silk that's made of snow
took three times in a row
pressing "start" on that succumbing mass of muscle red
and it's somehow now all rasp and sticky
a walk on dirty rocks and bitter honey
The sun above is wearing shades and melt the snow out of boredom
and there's still a long way to go, the area out of the comfort zone.
Forget the Ace up on the sleeve, rip it to shreds to rest in peace
there is no ease
the steel of soul, a soul to steal and hit it hard to forge it while it's hot
because I've clearly forgot my user's manual and got an expired guarantee.

I know for sure you claim to build the bloody clay to crystal-like perfection,
I read it in that little diary dear of the worldwide spider house
that you so faithfully keep in secret for everyone to see
and you inspire me so damn much everytime that I notice the connections
between your fakely hidden flaws and seemingly effortless perfection;
and that's so rotten selfish and narcissistically pathetic really of me
because so often it just feels like looking at my mirror image
everytime I see and listen to your ethereal sculpted psychedelic aura.

So, is it just me, or is that moldy and abused long string,
a golden oldy since the very first past life we shared,
has dipped itself in paint of gushing wounds and sweetest cherries?
I'll be your bratty guardian angel on a killing spree, loving for free,
Affection and that underskin burning Addiction,
if only you can give me truth, a lesson learned
and all the love you locked away with that forgotten key,

while space-travelling to supremacy.

Friday, June 7, 2013

This is a poem for my father.

I started my journey of thoughts, emotions, lyrics and self-proclaimed DIY literature with the previous post in this blog, revolving around my self. And the concept of "self" in general, how I perceive it, the eternal torturing egotistic dilemma and schizophrenia of love and hate combined.
But, besides and before one's self the most important piece of personal growth, emotional bloom, shaping of character, is family.
Our starting point, loving hug and refuge, our first school, our shelter and a trap as well.

My dad used to say that family is a trap.

Because of the warmth, security and unconditional love it provides, giving us our very own ideal microcosm.
How easy it would be for someone who is weary and scared of the ever changing vast outside world and society, to cling to homely harmony, sacrificing experiences, maturity, part of their freedom and evolution.

He also used to say that anything we want is in our very hands - all we need to do is grasp it.

"And isn't it ironic - don't you think...?" , as Alanis Morisette would say (or probably sing), that I give more thought and value to his words now, after his Departure...?
Life can be cruel and sad, yes, but we can be so stupid and short-sighted.


Dad, this is for you...for us.

P.S: Don't worry, I'm taking care of mom and I still keep an eye on big Sis.
       She'll make a breathtaking bride, don't you think?


As if the humble whole of me was slashed in two

torn parts of old and stained page from an unfinished book

the violent certainty of your departure found its shape

as a sharp blade, the dagger of Eternal Thief, for it was time his toll to take.

So swift and sudden that He was - an expert since the dawn of time-

He got me numbed and nulled at once, my inner tears I could not cry

crippled my soul and left my wounds wide open, to be infected

by grief and nothingness and little things that were neglected -

- such as ungraceful hugs and not enough "I love you",

endless debates and chat with coffee under the light of cracking dawn,

sketching together our own landscape happily filling it with flaw,

or switching shifts over the games of final fantasies and epic tales

exchanging tips and bragging like children from the Never Land

I learned entire oceans the vast cosmos while holding to your hand

and taught you insecurity and fear and love

you've always said that I should fly away like doves

and to remember that I am an incarnated smile,

forgive me I forgot it for a long while,

my lips were sore and no expression would embrace my eyes.

But rest assured, for in a timid way after the void of passing time

scattered and scared ribbons of sun have gently reached my heart

I'm feeling now less of your absence and the pain of being apart

filling my soul with knowledge of  your presence within my very existence.

It's been almost six years since I have silenced all my pens and pencils

imaginings impossible and hope was just incomprehensive

but as I'm gaining back the memories that are no longer burning

I recollect that I'm Your smile

an honest one to reach the eyes, no lies, just love-expressive.


                                               (One of my dad's favourite Beatle's songs)