It's me!
Can't you hear?
Can't you see?
It's just me!
On the top of the edges of the valleys,
in the middle of cold blue skies,
in the middle of what I feel is your love.
Don't forget!
Do not forget what we told each other,
promised each other.
Once we fastened our lives,
our souls, together
and now how can they be separated?
How can you cut
a piece of a whole,
thorough,
life?
How can it be?
No!
Please listen!
It's me!
It's just me!
In the middle of cold blue skies,
in the middle of what I felt should be your love.
***
I'm reviewing my memories:
When we ran together,
when cold rain was hitting our faces.
When the sound of our laughter had filled the sky,
when we could touch,
at least I felt so,
the skin of surrounding heaven.
Now what's happened?
Why should it be ended like that?
Why are you going to close you eyes to the whole of a piece of heaven?
Why are you going to be another of those humanoid robots,
with a laser tuned clock
in place of your heart?
We touched the god's face,
I believe,
we could feel the smell of eternity,
see the light of whole true throne of gods,
see the paradise,
see the wide angle of eternal life.
So why is it like that now?
Listen! It's the sound of beats
of not my heart, but the heart
of the earth,
the heart
of the time,
the heart of all the afraid gods.
Listen!
It's me!
It's me just standing there,
waiting for you,
with all the lovers of the world behind me,
looking at you,
waiting,
expecting what would you act.
Listen!
Listen!
Can't you hear?
It's me!
It’s just me!
It’s just me standing there.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Advent of the Dark Dancing God
Desires and hope,
what are being suppressed all the times.
I had never turned back,
looked back.
And I now see the whole way of the dirt,
whole way of the killed desires,
in sacrifice of just intellect.
Oh! Oh! My God!
Why can't we raise our ambitions,
our arrogance,
our selfishness,
to the threshold of the heaven,
to the place of Gods,
gods of sacrifice, love, and humanity?
It's the most painful drama:
the huge massacre of our true selves,
massacre of our true godlike souls.
We were animals,
and we are too now,
unless we have started dethroning gods,
to worship our ambitions, our pride, our true desires.
what are being suppressed all the times.
I had never turned back,
looked back.
And I now see the whole way of the dirt,
whole way of the killed desires,
in sacrifice of just intellect.
Oh! Oh! My God!
Why can't we raise our ambitions,
our arrogance,
our selfishness,
to the threshold of the heaven,
to the place of Gods,
gods of sacrifice, love, and humanity?
It's the most painful drama:
the huge massacre of our true selves,
massacre of our true godlike souls.
We were animals,
and we are too now,
unless we have started dethroning gods,
to worship our ambitions, our pride, our true desires.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Up and Down
Believe it. I'm seeing that. Not so near but a lot bright, as a light resource hanging in the air, moving toward me in the air. I, we, will reach that. It's doubtless. We will reach it and when we have found it completely, we will recognize that such a great thing it had been. A great thing which we didn't notice before because we were turning our attention toward just different ones, left ones in the air, with no particular meaning, value, just hanging there. But we were not aware of the resource, their main, bright and always happy resource.
Now we are gazing at it, as if we just want to remember one hundred million years olds memories of us, as if we are just recalling our lost, was to be lived, lives. Now, yes, we are remembering our possible life all through this long journey, as if we can at least spread its juice inside our ethereal body.
Yes. That's it. That's why we are always seeking for bright stars, the ones which can remind us of our roots to the soil of the earth, in the sky, wherever we are.
Now we are gazing at it, as if we just want to remember one hundred million years olds memories of us, as if we are just recalling our lost, was to be lived, lives. Now, yes, we are remembering our possible life all through this long journey, as if we can at least spread its juice inside our ethereal body.
Yes. That's it. That's why we are always seeking for bright stars, the ones which can remind us of our roots to the soil of the earth, in the sky, wherever we are.
Lighthouse
Seeking for the light, the light which was rotating and I could just saw its effect near the harbor. It was dark. I could just see piles of wooden boxes, were put on each other carelessly in the side, and dark stoned pavement of the street.
It was a long time which I was dreaming of going there, passing among angry and alarming waves, watching sea when it was spread all of my sides and just thinking of myself, my very mute self, very mute soul…
…I didn't recognize. It was probably the man who was bringing me there, to the lighthouse. Was he a mercenary? At least it seems now. I turned my face toward him and I just noticed the sword he was moving toward my head. At a moment, a moment which was lasted as if it was a whole life, I was remembered of protesting ocean waves, telling me: "Didn't we tell you?" and all who loved me, reasonably or not, and seemed to be standing there if not in material existence but at least in a kind of spiritual one.
I gathered my efforts. Here, in front of me was just a low murderer, a worthless mercenary who could not, and did not understand any thing of waving oceans and afraid spirits. Why should I lose the game to such a bastard?
I stood up, in front of his very face, and told him on the eyes, without any sign of nervousness or even fear: "Hey! My friend! You, this ocean and those hanging spirits which you can not see now are just ghosts man! Powerless, caused ghosts. I can go and never come back, evade, this situation which you are making now, representing now."
I turned back. The bottom of my cloak was contacting stoned pavement in some occasions and rower man, ocean and spiritual puppets were just gazing me, even it seemed in a scream.
It was a long time which I was dreaming of going there, passing among angry and alarming waves, watching sea when it was spread all of my sides and just thinking of myself, my very mute self, very mute soul…
…I didn't recognize. It was probably the man who was bringing me there, to the lighthouse. Was he a mercenary? At least it seems now. I turned my face toward him and I just noticed the sword he was moving toward my head. At a moment, a moment which was lasted as if it was a whole life, I was remembered of protesting ocean waves, telling me: "Didn't we tell you?" and all who loved me, reasonably or not, and seemed to be standing there if not in material existence but at least in a kind of spiritual one.
I gathered my efforts. Here, in front of me was just a low murderer, a worthless mercenary who could not, and did not understand any thing of waving oceans and afraid spirits. Why should I lose the game to such a bastard?
I stood up, in front of his very face, and told him on the eyes, without any sign of nervousness or even fear: "Hey! My friend! You, this ocean and those hanging spirits which you can not see now are just ghosts man! Powerless, caused ghosts. I can go and never come back, evade, this situation which you are making now, representing now."
I turned back. The bottom of my cloak was contacting stoned pavement in some occasions and rower man, ocean and spiritual puppets were just gazing me, even it seemed in a scream.
In The Middle
No one knows what would have been there if we hadn't spoken the spell. Dark road of middle of the jungle was so strange, so without any existence moving there, that we had to remind ourselves that we were just vulnerable humans. If not what were we then?
So we started, we progressed in the middle of the dark, as they always say, and no one we observed, no one at least who could make us feel a little, just a little being familiar, related to this unknown and strange world. We were just alone and full of the fear which was spreading inside us. So what could we do?
No one will ever recognize, will ever, the way we were slain there. I saw our blood pouring there, on the leafs, in the pattern of the road, and I couldn't even understand why and who was killing us. Just, just at the last glance, as if he was showing me his face just as a reminder, I saw, I was stricken back, as if some one had hit me on the face with a cubical or something like that cold iron, and anger and also regret, regret for that way I was going to be killed just by such a cheap person or cause, flamed out of my eyes. But there was no room to react. We were dying and no one, even us, could help us. I could, just that, I could just write a sentence with my blood on the path. I don't know if he realized that or not, but he didn't show anything. I just wrote it for future passengers here, to be aware of the danger, to be aware and not to be slain, slaughtered, in this low and shameful way. To be more proud and high headed. I wrote: “Hey man! Don’t be afraid, we were just wolves. And we were killed, slaughtered, like them all. Don’t be sorry for slaughtering of some, just some, predatory wolves, man! Don’t be sorry!"
So we started, we progressed in the middle of the dark, as they always say, and no one we observed, no one at least who could make us feel a little, just a little being familiar, related to this unknown and strange world. We were just alone and full of the fear which was spreading inside us. So what could we do?
No one will ever recognize, will ever, the way we were slain there. I saw our blood pouring there, on the leafs, in the pattern of the road, and I couldn't even understand why and who was killing us. Just, just at the last glance, as if he was showing me his face just as a reminder, I saw, I was stricken back, as if some one had hit me on the face with a cubical or something like that cold iron, and anger and also regret, regret for that way I was going to be killed just by such a cheap person or cause, flamed out of my eyes. But there was no room to react. We were dying and no one, even us, could help us. I could, just that, I could just write a sentence with my blood on the path. I don't know if he realized that or not, but he didn't show anything. I just wrote it for future passengers here, to be aware of the danger, to be aware and not to be slain, slaughtered, in this low and shameful way. To be more proud and high headed. I wrote: “Hey man! Don’t be afraid, we were just wolves. And we were killed, slaughtered, like them all. Don’t be sorry for slaughtering of some, just some, predatory wolves, man! Don’t be sorry!"
Scream
“I should be there! I must be! There is no room for defect!”
I was running, running in anxiety, running in horror, not horror but the panic that: “Will I get there at the time? Will I?”
I ran. I ran and I watched scenes that were passing by. I was in fury and I couldn't stop. Whole my life seemed to be just spinning around going there at the exact time. I passed passengers, I passed people whom I thought had something to say me, a kind of "Hello!" in a bright sunshine. But I couldn't stop.
I reached the hill. I looked upside, toward the summit, and thought that what a long and exhausting way it would be to reach there. But I must. I had to. It was, at least I thought so, my duty.
I ran. I could hear my breaths screaming, my lungs being pressured. I could feel exhaustion in my feet. But I just kept running…
…So where is here now? I am on the summit and nothing has changed at all. They are people there, still saying "Hello!" in bright sunshine in the bottom, they are coming and going here and there, with their umbrellas, with their dogs, with their new shopped little things. But I am on the summit and seems that even if I scream "Hello!" they won't hear me, even if I scream.
I was running, running in anxiety, running in horror, not horror but the panic that: “Will I get there at the time? Will I?”
I ran. I ran and I watched scenes that were passing by. I was in fury and I couldn't stop. Whole my life seemed to be just spinning around going there at the exact time. I passed passengers, I passed people whom I thought had something to say me, a kind of "Hello!" in a bright sunshine. But I couldn't stop.
I reached the hill. I looked upside, toward the summit, and thought that what a long and exhausting way it would be to reach there. But I must. I had to. It was, at least I thought so, my duty.
I ran. I could hear my breaths screaming, my lungs being pressured. I could feel exhaustion in my feet. But I just kept running…
…So where is here now? I am on the summit and nothing has changed at all. They are people there, still saying "Hello!" in bright sunshine in the bottom, they are coming and going here and there, with their umbrellas, with their dogs, with their new shopped little things. But I am on the summit and seems that even if I scream "Hello!" they won't hear me, even if I scream.
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