those days

those days we were
ready to be fired,
like blind panthers
chasing their own tales
no one told us actual life
was more fantastic
than any utopia
we did not know
postponed lives were
not to be redeemed either

masses are cruel in nature,
those days they felt safe to us
we were so busy judging everything
and forgot to smile back to flowers
we were so busy saving the planet and
the humanity,
forgot to greet the postman and
water the canary

music music!

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=lady%20in%20the%20lake%20elysian%20fields


http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=someone%20like%20me%20royksopp

like a sin

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=bir%20gunah%20gibi

The Set

no matter what life yours is,
feature, short or documentary,
feels like a few scenes are missing
from your days, right?,
as if someone destroyed
some rolls underhand

feels like you stay at some place
more than required,
you speak longer than the time
your listeners have
for your words

feels like you walk some roads
faster than you should and
take some stairs slower than
you would

dizzy between action
and cut
right?
you feel like having another look
at the script and the crew, right?
well, why not

Emir's Mediterranean Cafe - Part 2

" Wait! Where is Elma?" Emir's eyes scanned the whole place in two seconds. Elma had just finished selecting songs and listing them to play for the afternoon customers, and now was busy helping one of the regular customers who had spilt half a bottle of sparkling water onto his laptop. That guy was an internet addict, couldn't even go to toilet without his mac, he would probably keep it between him and his woman, if he had one, in bed. She noticed the silence in the kitchen and suddenly knew that Emir was there up to something. She rushed to join the others after handing another napkin to the mac-guy and putting on her lipgloss which she always had ready in the right-hand side pocket of her green half apron. By the time she got to the kitchen and took her place next to Calcutta song#4 from her list, Ooo Baby Baby by Smokey Robinson , started to play...

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=smokey%20robinson%20baby%20baby

She's getting itchy feet

I feel like turning into a plant for a while, blue, green doesn't matter, or a cloud, black, white doesn't matter, or just an old book laying in a library quitely, brown, yellow doesn't matter,

I feel like waking up Lewis Carroll and kidnapping him from his grave so that he would put me in a wonderland and show me a caterpillar smoking hookah, apple, mint doesn't matter, or Mark Twain to put me in huckleberry's boat in Mississippi and send me to a distant land, desert , rain forest doesn't matter...

Alpha Beta Gamma

Like a friend said years ago: "If you can't forgive yourself you can't forgive others". Maybe we should add 'life' also in the second part of the statement...you can't forgive life...although it did not do anything to be forgiven. We're well capable of forming accusations. Cursing at life will not do more than putting vicious spells on us, on our feet, fingers, lips, nerves, senses..

I'm missing daisies, bees, fireflies, sea salt, people having picnic, laughters, missing stars and constellations...missing being missed...

I guess missing is as beautiful as having...

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=secret%20chiefs%203%20barakiel

we're all in it

big fish small fish

not so clear who is who
all in the queue, all fall slowly,
everytime the globe shakes,
like delicate snow flakes

Insincere Interactions

taste of ash
smell of something burnt
an almost aching stomach
indigestable smoke and dust
of some aimlessly uttered words
an almost choking pollution

A sticky stain left that is

some exchange of verbal
sort of this and that,
swiftly constructed,
with some so and so,
unintended even undesired filling
in gaps of some time that is
compulsory to share
charging one another excessive pretending

Can frogs unjump
Can we unsay, unstart
or un-bump into each other