A letter to you whose
life is mal-adjusted and predicted
or mistaken
as a tour de force
Forseen and forbbiden
like the abandoned life
or a soldier's rhyme
a rifle

no need to play it slow
low or safe
no need to hde anyway
or shy
away

your mind

this is your
own
baby chime

yours ...

very own

Writings #1

The blue thin line of hindrance
and stillness beyond the sea
of multiple darkness(es)
Stall in the hall of fame
like a hunchback
but tall and thin
and of nowhere
still speak to
and with
me
like
the house
full of drawers
the multiple dimensions
from which one came from
always a delight and a dream
or nightmares in the hours of unknown
off-work time on and on and on
and i merely breathe
with two tiny
black holes
to the left
of my
nostril
invisible to
the naked eyes
and occasionally
between the thick lips
Butchering anything
that comes
my way
slowly
but
suspending
like witches in
mid air or hares
in slow motion
and anything
that makes
believe
such as
wilderness
or 16:9 wide vision
such as the gentle nights
and that good night
that I am trying
hard not
to go
into

_________________________

2:01 am (21 hours ago)

No chain
has you
hope am eyes
run in joy
to feel my pain
and touch away
a path still green

wt

Encounter

The birds: you can't swim and you can't fly, can you?
The beast: and you can't run or climb, can you?
The birds: and you are doing neither except blocking our ways like a mountain
The beast: Am I? Then why don't you guys just fly or swim away...
The birds: there is no sea, and as a matter of fact, we can't fly
The beast: well then at least we have one thing in common
The birds: whatever, now will you please move over?