Emir's Mediterranean Cafe - Part 1

Calcutta took his last order and went to the roof for a cigarette after sticking the paper on the chef's sweaty forehead swiftly. He heard the chef murmuring while he was climbing the narrow stairs "two years passed and not even a tiny bit of improvement with your handwriting boy!" Another shift is over, he thought and saw Emir from top, the boss, coming down Liberte Street towards the cafe as if there had been a coup d'etat and they were coming to take over the place in a while, the kitchen, the food, the Ceylon tea and Costa Rican Coffee stocks and all the customers. Last time when he saw Emir like that was during the walkathon organized by some cafe owners of the city to boycott the ban on indoor smoking. He remembered that day and smiled thinking on how funny Emir looked walking so fast with shaking hips like a woman. "Such a healthy protest", he sighed and rushed back to the kitchen whistling and asking himself "what now?!"

Boys and girls, listen up! Said Emir clapping his hands to get everybody's attention as soon as he popped up through the beaded curtain that separates the kitchen from the rest of the place.

...
(there's more...coming soon)

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=devendra%20banhart%20heard%20somebody%20say

Blindness

"The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.” Rumi

Just for the record

Click the new post button,
before starting to write

read something from Haruki Murakami:

"likewesaid, we'lldowhatwecan. Trytoreconnectyou, towhatyouwant," said the Sheep Man. "Butwecan'tdoit-alone. Yougottaworktoo.
Sittingsnotgonnadoit, thinking'snotgonnadoit." "So what do I have to do?" "Dance," said the Sheep Man. "Yougottadance. Aslongasthemusicplays. Yougotta dance. Don'teventhinkwhy. Starttothink, yourfeetstop. Yourfeetstop, wegetstuck. Wegetstuck, you'restuck. Sodon'tpayanymind, nomatterhowdumb. Yougottakeepthestep. Yougottalimberup. Yougottaloosenwhatyoubolteddown. Yougottauseallyougot. Weknowyou're tired, tiredandscared. Happenstoeveryone, ok? Justdon'tletyourfeetstop." (from Dance Dance Dance)

hold on, before starting to write

take the last sip from the coffee, go switch off the gas before the stuff in the pan gets overcooked, remove the damn socks, stretch the arms, check the cup if there are some drops left in the bottom, smile at yourself doing that, rotate your head clockwise and counter-clockwise, listen to an audio recording of the soothing voice of an artist explaining how he gives birth to his craft, yes keep blinking like that maybe someone comes and writes on behalf of you, ohooo be serious!, start to count the lines and the colors on your ugly sweater (think why you are wearing it then) pistachio-indigo blue-navy blue-purple-black-white (maybe it's not that ugly), now curse at the lazy keys that cause too much work for your fingers, push them once twice or more till you can offer your letters, words, and sentences to the dusty archives of time which consists of a 24/7 library, its guards never sleep never have sex, never leave for walking and watching people eating sunflower seeds in a park, the library keeps recording, doesn't matter if you utter bullshit or beans of sublime wisdom the library finds them worth saving and accepts your intended-or-unintended-entry, so the shelves are heavy with finished and unfinished tales of people sleeping, having sex, walking in a park, eating sunfower seeds...sending missiles & bombs onto each other's roofs, going on hunger strike...tales from their own mouths or from others', the library gathers dreams also so watch out when your unconscious part messes around, (stop here and ask yourself what the hell you are talking about)

Hmmm, did you want to write something?! Maybe next time...
anyway it's too late to push the delete button,
click the publish post button.

Yaaaayyy I'm getting old!

Yesss! Finally I'm an auntie!

just born -sagittarius- 3.6kg- don't now how she looks like:)

Is zero a number or a passion?

Oh doctor, tell me I'm gonna live more!
Oh darling, give me your word you're gonna love me more!
Oh time, promise you're gonna stop whenever I need a break!
1-5-7
At the end of the day you're alone, doesn't matter if you are living by yourself or with a big family, by the end of the day you're alone. When the others around you one by one fall asleep you stay face to face with the walls of your room, doesn't matter if you keep the lights on or off a sometimes-cruel-sometimes-soothing-silence pours over your mind, your ears, each cell of your body. Then you start thinking stuff that you are sure passed by no human being's mind before.
2-9-6
Some feel an orgasmic joy by putting a few words together on paper, some by putting a few colors on canvas, some by putting a few children around their dining tables. I sometimes feel like getting pregnant. I imagine getting pregnant from the clay that Adam and Eve were made of, then watching my tummy get as big as the earth so that I can see with a motherly joy the patterns of the dark lands and the blue seas, the poles, the equator, the two tropics, then joining along with the other pregnant planets to the strings around the neck of the sun and whirling like darwishes, celebrating creation...when the time comes giving birth to a renewed earth with a bright smile and pink cheeks...and with the moon on forehead...and with a leather cover and velvety-skinned leaves...
3-8-4
However all nights are bound to be overcomed by some daylight. And things, objects, people around you start to whisper all at the same time with the dedication of a chorus performing before God that you are not alone
0
that you better follow the warm, familiar breath of your soul blowing towards a certain direction called passion.

KIVA

Do you wana do something about world poverty?

A suggestion:

http://www.kiva.org/

To Lose or Loose Life?

(Painting by Bui Suoi Hoa - 'Blue Kite' )

my broken umbrella spins
turns into a teenage hyper kite
the music starts when I loosen the line

why need to leave behind something,
why prove that I too have passed
along the meadows trying
to improve, rectify, modify something
well even rain leaves
its stain on the ground, smell in the air
and sunny kite days
change our skin colors
then why not
stand on an invisible pedestal
say and justify something

letting
the line slip through
my fingers

moving pictures, stagnant feelings

Do you seriously believe in fate, asked he
cleaning his eyeglasses that often get dirty with his finger prints
I believe in hope, answered she
licking her index finger to turn sixty seventh page of a book

Mauw! The cat jumped onto the coffee table
did his routine stretchings with the paws out front and his butt up and reverse

The parakeet started to sleep on her swing seat.

The minute hand of the clock started to move louder as everything outside got quieter.

Hope is for fools, said he
puffing his pillow

The remote fell down from her hand as she was already asleep.

BBC Kuala Lumpur reporter was giving information about a rehabilitation center for baby orangutans when he changed the channel and found there two politicians discussing the executive order about closing Guantanamo Detention Camp within a year. He changed the channel again. Someone was explaining lucid dreaming in details.

Her eyes moved under her eyelids.

A random film, random thoughts

How many Carlitos might be out there with aching fists...and their Ways different than others'?
what about those with aching brains, aching heart veins?
If
"subatomic particles only come into existence when they are observed"
then
there are only the ones I see or hear about or just imagine.

Maybe we are not just bits from the earthly film that's currently playing. Maybe there are countless possible scenarios, our own films within the film.

Maybe they are right about "reality isn't fixed, we can create our reality"!


http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=the%20girl%20and%20the%20robot

The Old Man's Winter Tales - Part 2

"Time to reverse the time...the things, the steps, the songs...waters are gonna run uphill, winds are not gonna exhale but inhale...the nights are gonna turn into days, the eyes are gonna be wide open in dark, sun is gonna cool things down...you are gonna reverse things, you are gonna fly backwards but fly...when what is meant to happen happens! Ah, la vida buena! Gracias a Dios! "

Roared the fortune teller shaking. It was an April day and not cold at all in Seville. She was wearing a bear skin hat with a red feather attached to it which made her look crazier than she sounded. They say she inherited it from her uncle who had fled to Alaska leaving everything behind when he turned 18.

"I had rose cheeks like yours, girl. Alas, now they are looking forward to meeting the dirt. Oh well, listen to me carefully now. Don't panic when what is meant to happen happens for life is embroidered by miracles." She took a deep breath and licked her lips as if she was really thirsty.

-------------

Guest - Hey man! I heard the villagers found a bear cave in the woods. They say there is gold inside, probably some dumbass robber hid the stuff there and disappeared. Noone has the balls to sneak in the cave! I'm gonna check it out , you can stay and put a few more pages together to feed the fire.
Old Man - Did you promise somone to interrupt me everytime I start writing something?.. Wait, I'm coming with ya! You get the dog and I will get the gun.

My confused clock, tak tik

some taram taram,
little pa-pum pa-pum, hop drip drop

then
hocus-pocus!

as if those things never happened to us
as if I never knew the letters of your name,
never haunted your dreams
tiptoeing through your secret corridors
as if you never wished
to send me orchids
with purple lips,
to hand me a goblet and rouge dips
after our hungry, ominous
hopehunter sleeps,
to take off with me
having no return route

taram pa-pum
the music is tired

and

slowly

gives up

as if it's the time to
give up.


http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=calexico%20humano

3 in 1

You may leave if you have nothing to say.

What if I want to stay quiet, but stay?

Then show others who say something that you hear, that you listen.

How can I do this when my eyes are closed?

Why are they closed?

Because....because I am dreaming.

Then don't go, don't you go!

Who are you?

The music, the theme in you.

-----

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=all%20the%20world%20is%20green%20tom%20waits

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=tom%20waits%20little%20drop%20of%20poison

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=tom%20waits%20on%20the%20other%20side%20of%20the%20world

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=i%20hope%20i%20don%27t%20fall%20in%20ove%20with%20you%20tom%20waits

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=tom%20waits%20hold%20on

When the universe opens the curtains and yawns

when warm streams wash, comb, envelop
the naked icy lake
sweet laughters rise into the sky
fluttering, holding onto fairies' skirts
along with sacred tear drops
soar over orange trees, heads with ribbons
dusty book shelves, stale bread crumbs
haunted graveyards, even over
lousy orchestras, cheesy weddings

when warm streams kiss, snuggle, caress
the naked icy lake
silent screams fill into both young and old ears
shisha pipes, reed flutes, bubble rings
even into compass roses, wind chimes
volcano chimneys


http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/artist/Iggy_Pop_and_Goran_Bregovic/145222

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Angola/4124921

A quiet afternoon self-talk

Nothing can be as exciting and promising as a blank piece of paper! Is it so? At least, it felt so now. I used to write long letters to people in the past. Now, I am noticing that I started writing letters just to myself. Is it really so? Well, God knows..

God help psychologists! It must have been easier to define 'the normal' and 'the abnormal' in the last decades. Does it sound normal to enjoy watching films all day long, one after another, while there is so much to be accomplished left aside, waiting..This isn't procrastinating, is it?

Every passing day whispers to humanbeings "You can't continue sucking the nipples of life like that" and gets a drunk, dizzy look in return. If the glaciers continue melting like that we might see more wars on earth. A crazy idea is that heat increases the possibility of people getting violent. If it is so, we should shift the world's population to the poles. They would't find energy to wage war on each other with frozen asses:) Of course this solution is meaningless if we consider a possible polar shift in 2012. Coz there might be no more excessive joy and excessive violence left on earth with people saying ciao to the earth:)

By the way 'excessive' can be a bastard word sometimes, especially in observers' mouth...who decides what is excessive? Gotta check sufi approaches on this...

Is it normal to talk to one's self? Is it normal to think about what is normal?

Oh well, I better shut up and get some coffee.

-------

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/brainstorm/200911/the-red-book-one-mans-turmoil

Blues Festival - Cute Rhythms - A fine evening

Little slow but still a good start...

He was great!


They know how to play with those toys:)

She was great, too!

After a long working day she was tired but happy:)

The Blue Chakra

http://radioblogclub.com/open/110361/cat_power/Cat_Power_-_The_Greatest

Sugar spoon holding a river

A coffee scented breath flew into a coyly sparkling aura, a trembling candle flame:

"Here you are,
a sugar-spoonful of remedy for you.."

"What remedy? I wasted so much time thinking of 'to save others or to save myself', who said I should save something/someone anyway, who is gonna save me in the end, God? Maybe...
If we were certain of these things probably time would not possess wealth to be misused or watched over constantly..."

"Sssshhhh, you just rest now, dont misuse your mind...close your eyes and listen, listen to the water, imagine the water is carrying you, no need to worry about where the river is running to...feel light as a long-expected guest and don't doubt your host's hospitality. Take yourself as a blessed guest in this world."

The trembling candle flame slowly fell asleep.

The coffee scented breath ordered one more coffee.

The maroon curtains

...A dazzled face popped out from behind tilted open heavy maroon curtains hiding the rest of the body, hiding the rest of the play, hiding the rest of a lifetime...


http://radioblogclub.com/open/112009/rufus_c/Rufus_Wainwright_-_Cigarettes_and_Chocolate_Milk

The Old Man's Winter Tales - Part 1

"Fuck you baldhead! You have nothing in your chest but a bug's heart. You stole the sweet voice of gleeful birds. You bastardized my mercy!" Roared a disappointed soul that has been fed by faded dreams. This did not feel enough, though, to release the compressed resentment.

"Hey, stop there! Shut your cancerous mouth." Echoed a soul within the soul. "Forgiveness is probably the best virtue and as Francis Bacon once said:
"Certainly virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when they are incensed, or crushed: for prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best discover virtue.” "

Fiona started singing 'slow like honey'.

Then they both sat on a star and lent an ear to the earth once they lived on, to people who fell asleep mumbling these: "Can one know joy without having tasted sorrow? Can one appreciate hope without having experienced despair?..."

They couldn't quite discern if the baldhead was looking up to the very star they were on...

-------------------------


- Enough, man! The fire is almost dead and the dog is snoring. You can continue writing about the ghosts tomorrow.

- Ok, fine! You always act as if I am the guest and you are the host. By the way, I am not writing about ghosts. Shit! Look what u did, the bloody ink is all over my shirt.

- Not me, it's you. You are too old to play with pen, I am gonna buy you a typewriter when I have some dough in my pocket.

- You mean to say never.

- Whatever...Brrrr, I hate winters!.. Hey buster, gimme an extra blanket.

gone not noticed

what can we be sure of anyway
paws don't know how tender it might be
the place they jump onto

it's a matter of moments
it's a dirty business not noticed
one of those moments
the heart shifts, spins ,transports
it's a dirty business that
kicks time in the guts
gives time nausea

tongues don't know how sweetly and easily
they can nail, screw, pound, crush
it's a dirty business not noticed

collect, then, the said sailing
in the space,
pack them, stamp them unsaid
for the next receiver
and

hand me some bandages

what can we be sure of anyway

w o r d s torn into letters

"why did you live me"
said he
"lacking inspiration
thanks to thee"
his mouth fell down
as he intended to add
what
she will never figure out
then he knelt and started
crawling,searching
for his words
scattered around
from his mouth
rolling on the ground

glittering but lost words
like some jewels
long forgotton
laying in an old purse

Give 'em this, give 'em that

"Music at times is more like perfume than mathematics." Gabriel Marcel

Mad cow, bird flu, swine flu...All kinds of contagious diseases are available in the big belly store of the world so that humans would not be left alone without an agenda (!) Animals volunteered to help them in their fight against their worst enemy: boredom! Is not worrying better than angst?(!) There should be no room for humans of our times to feel detached from their lives for detachment is fatal, questioning their existence and the given meanings is fatal(!)There should be no time for getting lost in thoughts and staying idle(!) Give them some statistics, they like mathematics, give them something to fight against, they love struggling, taking precautions (!)...

what to drink in winter?

Lullabies, ancient ruins, sahlab, company of a book, numbness of existence and "our thrownness", human ridiculousnesses...oh well, lullabies...hope, yet hope!

Luban Al Hubb

What is this, amber-like,
Renascence of which
I witness?
Cool and velvety
Amorphous too
Rosewater and frankincense
Some sweet titillation
Cat's eye and emerald
Embroidered tulle
And musky perspiration
The trees yawn and smile
Wood cracks, gives birth
To a healthy fire
Everything feels green
And red now
But no!
Drinking the juice of life,
Celebrating it like boswellia
Can't be told like that
By some gibberish on a blank leaf
Of my vast arcadia

Watching the Exit Lane

Some people leave this world, the feast, like leaving a table with a little bit of Crème Chantilly on the corner of their lips and a content smile on their faces...

Some leave this world, with sweat and dirt on like angry gladiators in an arena or like burning horses in a racetrack...

And some leave here like pulling their resting legs out of a cool river, like dropping a silk nightgown slowly down from their shoulders to the floor, like blowing a small white feather from their palms back into the air...

Two men and a dog cutting it short

Guest - Just get rid of the whole damn thing!

Old man - Maybe for once you are right. It gets itchy this time of the year. Gimme your razor.

Guest - You will look 10 years younger, I tell ya,(smirk)and maybe make a girlfriend again.

Old man - Once a woman told me: "You are a 6-feet plywood who happens to appreciate art and wisdom". So the beard would not make a big change.

Guest - (laughter) She must be a smart cookie this one, I tell ya!

Old man - Another thought I must have hidden behind a tree when God was distributing everybody their share of his compassion.

Guest - Tree, plywood? What is this timber business man? I bet some other bitch named you pinokio.

Old Man - First, dont call them bitch, second, I have never lied to my women.

Guest - Don't know about that but you are the most merciful person I have ever met. For example you let me stay here with ya for don't-know-how many days now...

Old man - First you get their habits like borrowing a jacket from someone in a cold evening and you are not likely to return it although it does not fit you well. Their habits become yours before you know it. And you start to believe that you are the exact person they describe. They make you believe that you are a heartless gaffer. In fact you sadly see that you have done everything to deserve being called so.

Guest - Whatever, let's cut this short, you are givin' me a headache..

Old man - (Sigh) Okay, gimme the mirror now, I am almost done.

Guest - What is next? The dog?

Old man - No, first the grass in the yard...

Sometime between 5 - 9:30am

I came across three civilizations/communities one after another.

First was the sea people. Dark sky, fat waves and a big , conventional ship made of wood. The captain hired me to work on the ship. When I asked how I could renew my visa he said he never arranged worker's visa for those who worked for him and I needed to cross the border where the graveyard is and come back with a new visa everytime the old one expires.
I got in but the ship started shaking suddenly as if there was an earthquake center of which was the sea right under us. I flew out, dove into the water and looked at the ship from a distance and saw a huge mouth chewing our propeller. It was a whiteball-like crane...

Here comes the second community people of which sent the crane to sabotage us, the sea people. Then we were taken captives, our wooden ship was invaded. They were high-tech but rude to their women.
The only way we could find to escape from them was a witchcraft spell. An elderly, mysterious woman from among us stabbed their chief in the back with some magic pin after which she apologized him and the ground where the chief stood split into two, leaving them in the north and us in the south.
Now we could ran away from the ship but there was a small boy from the high-tech people stuck in between, sitting in the crack calmly and looking at the screen of a computer in front of him. I came back to the ship to take him with us but he refused. I started to go to the direction where the others went...They had already taken a long way while I was far behind...

And finally there is the third community, the King's people. Our next destination is their medieval castle guarded by monster looking men with shaven heads.
The people of the ship dressed like the King's people, learned some phrases from their language. Their will was to get in the King's territory as immigrants. There were also some animals with them in the caravan. An eagle, a monkey and a turtle. But the monkey was carefully hidden inside the metal cylinder placed on the head of the eagle, probably monkeys were not allowed there. The eagle was having hard time to keep the monkey back in the cylinder everytime his head popped out. The turtle was sick apart from being slow, so he was the last one entering the castle. I could see all these clearly although I was not with them at that time.
I met a woman and her child on the way. Three of us were left behind and there was no way to ask for an immigrant status from the King for such a small group like us. She and I decided to pass through the guards saying that we were the bedroom slaves for the King. It worked, we slipped inside but it did not take long before we heard some women talking in a toilet about one of the bedroom slaves of the King who was dead because of the damage in her womb caused by the giant penis of the King. There was blood all over the place and a cleaning lady was sweeping the blood off the ground using her bare hands.

We were terrified! This was when I woke up.
A ship worker, a captive and a slave...Doesn't sound very pleasant, huh? I wish I could sleep more and visit a fourth community, maybe a blessed one, as an honored guest...Or maybe it is already a blessing not to have to face the King:)

The Haunting Instinct

Not eighteen anymore
nor to be a part of some revolution
and save some society
Alas, there is that ancient whisper,
that fire in the belly:

"You gotta either DO or BE something!"

As if these two are distinguishable...

Blurry Summer Days

No storms no thunders

yet she wonders

why time crumbles and falls

like colorless confetti

onto her shoulders

Perhaps these are some lost fireflies

or exiled orphans

Two men and a dog practicing insanity

"My right knee hurts..."

"And?"

"I either fell on the ground from a roof again, in my dream I mean, while trying to fly or have been watching too much of 7pm news lately."

"News? Your knee?"

"Yes, just like rain...Wars on the way, pain in the knee..."

"Or...you are getting older!"

"Or I need a better chess partner. Shah-Mat!"

(Dog bark)

"Shit! If you got two wings, in your dream I mean, your knee would not hurt, you would have been more quiet, my king would be safe now."

"And?"

"...and he would conquer with his knights all the TV channels and radio stations and internet providers as a last war in history to be recorded."

"My knee would never hurt."

"Indeed."

"Who told you that I dont have wings, just need to practice...just like we did now (laughter)"

(Dog bark)

almost defiant

"Here you go, open your mouth"
he poured a spoonful of red anxiety into her stomach

"That is sour but thank you"
She rubbed his black hair and sprinkled a handful of white mercy onto his head

save yourself

wake up wake up
you've been swinging in the cradle,
arms of happiness, soft and careless
I've got some poisonous mushrooms for ya
didn't you already learn how to trick
melancholy traders, the ruthless

Dentelle

When April puts her hands together
to join angels applauding lovers
you can here the laughter
of some yet to be born babies.

Here comes the down to earth
carnival of nature
Everyone is invited once again
to meet and remember life
and its pure essence

Is it ruched tulle we are looking through
and witnessing the season of bless
or a bleary eyed morning mist, conveying bliss

An Afternoon in Manifestation

A teapot whistles, violates
the solid silence
some dreams boil
A knife slices
some cake,
vanilla rises,
some hopes evaporate,
some memories
desublimate,
some curtains oscillate,
the past
and the future fall
asleep
A stranger's legs climb
the stairs
A guest's hands knock
the door

Off the Shelves

The Image: "Beast of Gevaudan" by Aleister Lam


How come those two monsters
one black one green
sneaked into my dream seeping
from my library* cloisters
the subconscious
They must have come toe walking
to steal some from my peace
the precious
Why did I force the smaller
one's jaws wide open
with fingers
the delicious
I must have stopped those teeth
the insidious
Why did I feel guilty then
can't really remember



*The analogy between library and source of dreams(subconscious mind+memories+the divine hand) was made by Kursat.
http://kursatozenc.com/

Friends

"You are too kind, you should learn how to be little selfish" advised a friend of mine
"You are too quite, you should express yourself, talk bullshit if you have nothing to say" advised another
"You wear weird clothes sometimes, you should learn how to look good and be normal at the same time" advised another
"You are too serious, you should stop talking about spirituality and world politics, be playful and flirtatious around men" advised another

I said I gotta go.

La vida

may-day-may-day
there is a situation here

pretty green neck ducks
smell of lavender soap
dog barks and rocking chair
for a sleeeepy head
some book piles
of a future ayn-shhtt-ayn,
are those laborers over there
str-ay-king?
Me dizzzyyy

may-day-may-day
might life be taking place?

---
http://radioblogclub.com/open/65185/ry_cooder/Ry_Cooder-Paris_texas

Chewing some geometry

"You know what
there is no such thing
called symmetry
even one hand is slightly bigger
than the other
why then
would they throw explosives
for a most pathetic
chase for global homogeneity
on totally asymmetrical brains"
said she
before getting her sugary bubble gum
balloon burst
and stuck
on her asymmetrical lips

Someone else's heaven

- Same one?
- Yes, same one.

It took the skinny bartender 16 seconds to fix his drink. Soda water, cherry syrup, ice, a small slice of lime and a plastic looking cherry on top. While putting a straw in the glass he popped the question he had been holding over his mind for the last 3 months since this man first came to this place and ordered this drink:

-Sir, may I know why you chose this pub to have your non-alcoholic drink?
-It is both the quietest and darkest place around here this time of the day.

This was both the longest and most unusual sentence he ever uttered to the bartender who now was trying hard to hold his smile over his face. He grabbed the drink and sat at his usual place, the table next to the only window. Sitting in dark yet having easy access to daylight made him feel safe. While he was reading the 5th page of his newspaper a small ladybug flew in and landed on a funeral announcement. His eyes caught the word "departed" on which the ladybug sat comfortably after crossing her legs under her red skirt.

He remembered her giggles and long philosophical debates with her countless friends, then her beautiful face, her cruelty, her selfishness...And that man she left him for... No matter how often he said "go to hell" to her in his mind she was not likely to fly away and leave his soul alone.

The ladybug lifted her skirt up little bit to jump onto a PVC window ad and chose the word "heaven" from the title "Make your home a heaven!". Then it flew out, probably to share someone else's ads, news, worries...
The drink numbed his tongue but the bug with red skirt lightened his mood, he smiled.

He left after folding the newspaper and pushing his chair back under the table. The bartender heard him murmuring : "Go to heaven ladybug, someone else's heaven, to share someone else's debates, hopes, dreams..."

He closed the door behind him as a free man and went to the newspaper kiosk on the corner of the street as a free man.

-Same one?
-No, that one.

He replied as a free man.


http://radioblogclub.com/open/71693/fairground_attraction/Fairground_attraction_-_Perfect

The Prophet

Hands with an everlasting
smell of roses
might they be here in this room
when my eyes fail to see
might this be them touching
all the other senses

"You will live enough, dont worry,
to burn your sins with tears"
said someone sitting
on the east side of my head and
"You will die young, dont worry,
to turn your smiles into roses
to grow on your soil bed"
said someone running
on the west side of my head

Hands with an everlasting
smell of roses
Could you bring me
soils, eastern and western,
Could you teach me
how to mix them and
plant roses

Hope hopped and perched on my shoulder

There was a little man, probably three years old or so, sitting opposite me. He seemed very peaceful as if an angel was resting on the small pink cushion inside his small chest; as if a wise, old man was hiding inside his small head. When the bus driver pushed the brake hard the angel turned into a pigeon and started to flutter. I could see the fluttering on his face and his small hands holding onto his seat tightly.

It was a joy to steal a glimpse at this adorable creature. Everything what had made me worried or upset till that moment dissolved right away. This little man was my proof for the day that life is beautiful.

Left this and her initials on a piece of paper

Was too short, the time we shared I mean, yet deeply profound
like a vision of heaven seen in a tasteful dream, or maybe
like standing under graceful water
falling from a graceful cloud that follows the thirsty, or maybe
like a hopeful song kidnapped by a crazy wind, yet you still can hear the echo
There must be a replay button somewhere here, darling.

Somehoo

His japanese puzzled face was somehow reflecting his indifference to being among the existentialist writers listed by Wikipedia. I looked at my table calender, the number 23 was somehow looking little bloated among the other numbers between 1 and 31 listed under March 2009.
A friend of mine said the other day that the next big war would start between India and Pakistan which made me think on how much we humans love predicting things. Is hope a kind of predicting, in disguise? Maybe... Hope somehow sounds far more innocent than predicting to me.
Today I will try to learn swimming once again, accumulated water somehow looks scary to me.

I cherished thee

The train has
gone
leaving thee
one more sparrow
fell
dead skinny
from the oldest tree
on thee
one more scarf
covered
black
the rose bud's head
dried
waiting for thee
and moaning
and I
heard
time the grey
hair
reminding me
to forget thee
love where were thee
the train has
gone
leaving thee

Home after a friends' gathering

"To meet modest people is like finding needles in a hayloft these days." (The lilac perfume she just sprayed on her wrists and neck filled the bedroom slowly) "They should read more of Russian classics to watch the parades of crippled personalities so that they would know better what not to do/say in public, I ain't meeting those on their high horses again! "

"I think social etiquette should be taught in schools, apparently most parents fail in doing that." (He mumbled in the bathroom brushing his teeth and thinking for how long he would kiss that wise-mouth, now repining in front of the mirror chiffonnier, nonstop)

The Angel's Visit - serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine

"What can I do for you sir" asked the white shadow bending his upper body forward slightly with his right palm placed on the left side of his chest where his heart beats.

"I lost my daisy farm, have you seen it somewhere here?" answered the mirror. "I checked all the meadows in the north and south and west and east"

The white shadow removed the black band that was tied around the mirror's eyes. "Now show your eyes to the light sir" he whispered and picked a daisy. The mirror watched him disappear after smelling the daisy and putting it under his left collar.


http://radioblogclub.com/open/147609/lovely_head/Goldfrapp_-_Lovely_Head

Inner Dialog

Live half a portion
get the pleasure of full portion
she said
and added: if you dont prefer it
the other way around.
Right but
how can I smell lilies in the air
and hear melodies
of laughters echoing
when Azrael is so upset
being exposed every hour
on bbc and aljazeera,
I asked


http://radioblogclub.com/open/110361/cat_power/Cat_Power_-_The_Greatest

http://radioblogclub.com/open/36163/peyroux/Madeleine_Peyroux_-_Dance_me_to_the_end_of_love

http://radioblogclub.com/open/39768/heaven_gonna_burn_your_eyes/Thievery_Corporation_-_Heaven_s_Gonna_Burn_Your_Eyes

Here comes the 29th wagon of the train, don't know how many are left

http://radioblogclub.com/open/97811/last_train_to_wherever/Telepopmusik_-_Last_Train_to_Wherever

http://radioblogclub.com/open/92028/how_to_disappear_completely/Radiohead_-_How_to_disappear_completely

Dizzy Frisbee

"Less is more" flies out from Ludwig Rohe's* mouth along with the smoke of his big cigar, probably this aphorism did not apply to the size of his cigars, but never mind, I thankfully use this quote very often. Then, "what the bleep do we know?"** echoes from a handful of quantum physicians who seem to know a lot, I still dont know how I feel about this whole thing...The definition of Cyclothymia dances in front of my eyes, Joe Cocker starts singing: You can leave your hat on...Am I high? No, I just got a little problem here disciplining my thoughts. They are like naughty kids swirling in my mind, really fast and careless sometimes...I guess I need an invisible whip!


* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ludwig_Mies_van_der_Rohe

** http://www.unomaha.edu/jrf/vol10no1/Reviews/Bleep.htm

How unlikely

He was one of those men who assigned themselves to their one-soldier-wars called life not knowing whether they defend the castle they are locked in by their own hands or the castle defends them, not knowing what they are supposed to do but how to be: strong like a man!

She was one of those women who are accused by their fellows of envying men and escaping from being a woman, and who always walk too fast, not necessarily being in hury, as if racing with winds, not knowing whether it is attention they are freaked out by or looking like they are after attention, not knowing how to manage to be more than a woman but how not to be: weak like a chicken!

Their paths crossed, the stars tumbled downed the Milky Way...Alas they shared too little to construct a story, yet too much to be forgotten in the dusty books of personal histories...


http://radioblogclub.com/open/63323/someone_like_me/10_Someone_Like_Me

Utopian Springs

Scared the scarecrow

hopped with the frog

into the dream-tickling

memory-flicking moist land

full of reed beds

the climate is warm

the soil is fertile in here

I smell somebody burning

all the ideologies

along with their trash

Seems there is no

garbage man in here

I hear somebody coyly

asking to borrow

some goods from somebody

Seems there is no

atm machine in here

I see somebody leaving

their doors open when sleeping

Seems there is no room

for troubles breathing

and no robbers, no cops in here

Apologized to the scarecrow

thanked the frog

promised the reed beds

to never forget their song

called longing for springs

And closed my eyes

http://radioblogclub.com/open/130094/goldfrapp_utopia/_Pop__Goldfrapp_08_Utopia

The Anatomy of Pain

Patience of the vases waiting for flowers
Anger of the sky frowning at god-knows-who
Gentle touch of the passing winds
hand in hand with those rhythms
,you know, those they classify under jazz,
being sung by god-knows-who
A pair of black shoes
,you know, those with heels modest in height,
brought by an angel
both humorous and thoughtful
I wish he forgot his hand
on my back before leaving me
for god-knows-who.

Autophysiopsychic Music & Yusef Lateef

"Autophysiopsychic Music: Music which comes from one's physical, mental and spiritual self."

http://www.yuseflateef.com/

http://radioblogclub.com/open/74766/yusef_lateef/02_-_Yusef_Lateef_-_Warm_Fire

Thinking about atoms

“All atoms in the cosmos are attracted to one another like lovers, everyone is drawn towards its mate by the magnetic pull of love.” Rumi

"Atoms are not things. They are only tendencies." Heisenberg

Mean City

The city comes up with solutions
for all the troubles she causes
Here we have yoga classes
for tired souls and bodies
There are no cranberry bushes
generously offered to your eyes
but you find all kinds of dried berries
in air conditioned huge stores
What to do with exhaust fumes
Look, we've got organic creams
for worn out, dull looking faces
And the city gives you the chances
when someone accidentally hits you
or no one approaches to help you
with your damn heavy bags
to say "fuck you!"
back...


http://radioblogclub.com/open/80360/stan_getz/Stan_Getz-Joao_Gilberto-Astrud_Gilberto-Antonio_Carlos_Jobim_-_Corcovado

We are alive

I watched sunflowers blossom on their foreheads
They watched my hands release a fish
We all watched the fish fly in the air

We undid the braided hair of our dreams
We made earrings of the trumpet melodies

We let the hair dance
We let the sunflowers dance
And the dimples
on the face of the fish
danced

They whispered to me: "write"
And I wrote

http://radioblogclub.com/open/94109/deathcar/Iggy_Pop__amp__Bregovic_-_In_The_Deathcar

Turning into vegetables

Is there anybody
to share with me
the broccoli soup
I've just cooked?

Some bombs fell on the heads
Knees fell on the carpet
having no shoe stains.
Considering to boycott some shops
some brands,
silly ain't it?

Butts tired of sitting
chin on the hand
still searching for meaning
selling life, buying time
One pigeon outside
winking, mocking
silly aint it?

Our destiny is similar to
that of jailed people,
time is fat and lazy
We sit, cook and eat
and sit again
silly ain't it?

Chin on the hand...
Our times are fat and lazy
Does anybody want broccoli soup?