2011.02.01 Hissing a New Tongue

1:25
Cast upon a world so vast,

so that they’d built their own shells,

Babylon was their first home

a new tongue they then long mumbled:

 

‘How I wish you played my chords!’

‘In fact I gave you the scale.’
Which they hissed in their first hour,

for their shells were bulletproof,

or at least they wished they were.

Till the dawn’s lead bell tolled sour:

 

Could we be forever locked?

We hardly ever depart -

Honestly I knew not whether

you’d been here or long, far out

 

Doubt not that tonight I thought

I was striving to crawl closer,

And the bonding that I tried

Seemed to do us nought but sever.

 

‘How I wish you knew my verse!’

‘Oh, indeed I’ll sing along.’

 

Rhythms, echoes, songs unfurl,

Let’s cross to the other side!

Sing and dance behind the crosses

‘mong the dead, down and beyond.

~3:00

2010.09.11 Give me a place to stand and I will move the earth

06:00

Creeping, throwing glances at the world
through a translucent thick veil.
Watching life bouncing,
no, there is no life.

Soft shouting worry, deaf brain,
Feeble connection to the ground

Whispering brain, mouth yells,
Sobbing mind, mouth whispers

2010.10.19 My Brain on the World Vol III: ± Theos

My Brain on the World Vol III: ± Theos
- Christian> Spiritual> “Religulous”> Nonreligious. Evolution? -

20:15

Well, of course it all began with baptism, as far as my parents relate. So this would be why I would pass as a Christian in a survey, let’s say. (That is why the Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant, Pentecostals and Romanian Greek-Catholic Christians  sum up 97,5% of the inhabitants of Romania (Wikipedia, Religion in Romania). What if we add the Muslims? Are we all really theists?) Yet, it hasn’t always been like that; I may say I evolved from

to even shriving, i.e. confessing, once because of my teacher of religion who warned or almost threatened us that it would affect our final mark; and of course I was afraid to lie about my communion with God; to doubting the whole bullshit towards the final grades of elementary school. For instance, I had already started thinking How did Adam and Eve conceive normal children? What about Cain and Abel, with whom? Their sisters? So it was already incoherent. Still, I liked it towards the very last grade, perhaps because the Bible is based on parables and other little stories that are easy to remember. The weird thing is my parents are spiritual, at most, no doubt due to communism. I suppose it was between 17 y.o. and one year ago that I used to mock Christianity, still with fear, which diminished more and more.

So it went from believing (that is, fearing God), but without going often to the church; literally and narrowly believing the fairy-tales in the Bible; meekly doubting the coherence of it, and meekly calling myself “spiritual, but not religious”, towards the good feeling of release, of freedom, as Richard Dawkins describes people that… escape religion (Youtube, Richard Dawkins Interview); blindly assuming that all the atheists are amoral, Neo-Nazi, that anti-Christianity is by default evil a.s.o. up till evading the shell and considering… evidence, truth, anti- primitive superstitionism.

My ignorance consisted of my blurry belief that religion led not only to reduced freedom, to narrowing people’s minds, but also to keeping the herds under control (translatable by ruling a nation under the hope of salvation etc. and under the fear towards a punitive god); I only used to hate the first aspect, while I based my so-called fearful, still-hoping latent Christian view partially on the second one — religion is useful politically, and – as well – God is there, but I only hate the Bible and the Church.

While my eccentricity only led to being spiritual, I learned that what lay at the base of each sudden new fundamentalist Christian or atheist was a crisis; a personal tragedy, in the first case, and I now guess it’s awareness towards the science in the second one. Until my very second university year, that latent fear still stood on its feet.

Therefore, hence, so, and as a conclusion: there are arrogant atheists, arrogant fundamentalist Christians, fanatic religion teachers who threaten you with Thor-like punishments, people in the haze (like I still am) dicing

with Heaven and Hell. What do you choose?

23:46

2010.09.25-10.06

2010. 09.25 Thinking stories of would have been, dreaming realities of what if. Only if you would…

2010.09.28 From a dead poplar to a chirping Gmaj there’s only 20 ft of spirit.

To My Cyber-”fans”

Lately I have been receiving a significant number of thumbs down never accompanied by any comment, explanation. Now – maybe I`m thinking too high of myself, maybe I`m too used to being encouraged etc., but the truth is that not long ago I was rather said that I didn’t have such a high self-esteem.

With all due respect, despite my self-centered character, criticism is in this case a good feedback because it is meant to harden, to better my writings – let’s say. But be more explicit – at least consider the effort of typing a “You suck!”, “You’re killing the English language”, “Why don’t you use Romanian?”, “Too common, you’re rewriting old ideas”, or something like that. Why am I writing this in English? I don’t know, I’ve received comments in… umm Mandarin – I think. Whatever.

I bet amongst the previously-mentioned people there are some who conjugate put – *putted; who don’t use spaces after dots, commas etc.; who spell “a *fii, (tu) să *fi”;  *deffinately a.s.o.; these same people may be those who rate negatively my writings in Latin, for instance.

Nevertheless, there are also some posts of mine that I do not like too much, like poems about flesh, lust, with no spirit within, that don’t have a power of suggesting big enough; but hey, let’s analyze why, or just comment “It’s not worth reading it, man”.

I don’t believe in an actual effect of this different type of post, so if it doesn’t affect your typing laziness, laugh of it and ignore it. I was just curious about the opinions outside of my shell.

Good night!

2010.05.28 Swimming on Dry Land

4:19

Flowing.

Going down the river the other day

Instead of people I met a lump of clay!

So I built up my fellows with my own hands:

By looking in the mirror and with my sharpened chisel

In a matter of hours there you go: a brand new perfect, naïve, incomplete army of me’s,

A summoned sociable pile of creation – my way, my generation,

My hobbies, my tastes, my topics, my concerns they had.

So that we I’s could be just happy with ourselves myselves.

One of the clay beings advised me in the middle of my joy:

‘Please stay in the shallow stream,

For the sea is but a dream!

Deeper questions don’t unveil

Till temptation’s set to sail!’

All of a sudden the channel got bone-dry

‘Cause I had had to use the water in them, or so thought I.

It was though the very mirror of me, as it turned out,

Who I found out to be the guilty for my droughty dying river,

It was my clay-men who had sapped the very essence of my life.

But, yet, they, too, were keeping me alive, ensuring  me I did well.

‘To live is to die, to die is to live’, says one of them.

They had proven me that death was the clay of life,

The core of our struggles when we raise from the herd.

So then my men, who were unable to run,

Got dissolved by what it seemed the essence of life – as they had believed,

An actual acid, sin-washing shower, for they had tried to be more than clay.

And afterwards they lived again their mineral life, waiting for a new sculptor.

‘There you go, deceiving simulacra, down the river’, said I,

While chasing my wish of meeting other beings like me.

My chisel I had to sharpen but, while I did that,

I threw a glance into the mirror, telling myself ‘Why! God, I’m complete,

I am alive’, so I could sail the river up and down, down and up,

And I set sail down the river the other day, here’s today:

Flowing.

5:08

2010.05.23 Sieving Upstream

1:30

Sieving people; most are yeast.

Gained what you’d expected least.

But yet, when the gold is sieved:

slippery fate — you are deceived.

‘Please stay in the shallow stream,

for the sea is but a dream;

deeper questions don’t unveil

till temptation’s set  to sail.’

Flowing.

2010.04.23 L’avinguda Mistral

May the Sun shine upon thee,

reflect in the mirror the bitter-sweet show,

my enclosed mirror of the metaphoric Barcino.

The street lights have been the nights’ seeds,

now days’ seeds lie ‘tween roofs gray-red.

Sant Jordi’s ready to descend

at the crossroads disguised as roses.

But, as for now, the lads have not yet made much haste,

nor have the maidens chased

their hopes away.

~8 AM, 23 abr

2010.03.04 Llibertat al revés (Freedom Upside-Down)

12:45

Encaged while sunny,

he’s free now and it’s raining,

deserting in daylight

into this blurry foggy

universe of his -

confectioned bloody play-tool;

accused for his weak lusts.

From this new sapphire hell

should he climb up and live?

13.00

2009.10.15 Make (My Life) a Lyric from (What is Now) This Prose

1:22

Wondering which side of the shell to hide in now,

(I cannot observe if it has any angle;)

Either the top is all flat, or it’s round?

Thus it seems that the hooks are all tangled

‘ Feels like the story’s rewritten despite that

I’ve been led through my universe’s films

…………………………………………………………

Once upon a time

That fairy-tales can’t tell,

There were a feather and a rhyme

Which seldom each other did compel

2:00