Posted in poetry

the sky, the earth, the sailor, and the sea.

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“You once were mine”

whispered sky in agony.

“I lulled you with

my sweetest breeze

told you stories.

I nestled you under my moon

watched your grow.”

“Showered you with sun

deciphered your riddles

Has there ever been

a traitor so beautiful?”

She wailed as the one she loved

slowly gave into lust

And brick after brick

built a mosque

to her sworn rival

the earth.

Engorged,

silently waiting

Earth plump and fertile

depraved and aching

wide, opened her portal:

“Lasting or ephemeral…

I’ll drink it all.

Every last drop until

you leave, which you will.

Your second,

surely not your last,

I reckon Couldn’t

a better spell, cast.

Your affection

as scarce as it was

will remain indelible

tatted on my complexion”

Make way!”

shouted Lady Sea

“sad as it may be

the boy is now a man

and your efforts,

put together couldn’t contain

his love for what is yet unseen.

my depth is unexplored,

my beauty incomparable.

Preceding loves are obsolete

facing the beauty of the deep.

But shed no tears dear sister

when I tire of you lover

When his obsession

becomes the end of him

You’ll get to gift him one last kiss

for from the abyss

I’ll rock him to your shores

the child who became man;

the sailor will be all yours!”

 

Posted in poetry

Songe

Image result for poison glass

Some mornings I wake,

pour my melancholy

into a glass and admire it.

from afar,

Having these sensations

Foreign but somehow

Familiar?

Holding on to the itch.

Such is the alien sensation

That makes me question:

Has anyone,

Has there ever been someone

Who felt like this before?

Posted in poetry

Printemps

L’image contient peut-être : plante, fleur et plein air

These  flowers started blooming all over my front yard this spring. I thought they were pretty so I took a picture, which I showed to my aunt. She made one of her disapproving grunts and told me that she couldn’t wait ’til the gardener gets rid of them. I asked her why and she answered: “because they are not flowers but mauvaises herbes. They just keep on infesting the whole yard.” I didn’t think they bothered anyone and they are so pretty. What makes a flower and what makes a weed?

The next day I came home; they were all gone.

Posted in essays

Entry-II

Image result for blizzard

Snow is such a magical thing. Hear me out here; when you’re at home with a hot cup of cocoa, under the plushiest blanket, with a good book – kind of magical. Personally, snowfall, and even blizzard make me think. I always enter a state of peace even during the most vengeful snowstorm. The more I realize all that I could have lost and those I could be mourning, the more I see life and my undeniable luck as a force-field around me that acts semi-impermeably. And that force-field which actually is a membrane only let through enough to bust my ass but not actually kill me. I know that’s silly but anyone who went through half of the nonsense I went through has earned their right to exist relatively peacefully damn it. So I say bring it on mother nature, you’re beautiful when you’re mad.

Posted in essays

Entry-I

Disclaimer: I don’t think I have ever had an idea as crazy as using my personal blog as a personal diary before. Obviously I have not been graced with a visit from Calliope lately so I decided to give in to the next best thing: diary-like entries to keep updating.

Since I started working at boredom.inc I’ve had a lot of free time in my hands. I sit around in the office all day for about eight hours (minus my hour break) looking at lazy photoplasty and read crappy articles on Cracked. On the up side, I have the time to read the books I’ve been putting off reading because of the ever present tests, quizzes and finals that are the scourge of the social college girls. The first week I’ve read this interesting novel by Shan-Sa. I’ve read her work before (Empress) and loved it despite her tedious and poetry-like style of writing so I dug in! It took me a while to finish Alexander and Alestria but when I did it left me with the impression that I just read the script to Alexander (the 2004 movie). I actually liked that movie and I don’t care what the critics say *I’m looking at you Rotten tomatoes* therefore I didn’t mind the similarities. Although It took away some of the reveal the book was enjoyable. Will I read another novel by Shan-Sa? Maybe…we’ll see. I actually heard a lot about La joueuse de go. I promised the little financially responsible goblin in my head that I would read all the books amassing dust on my shelves before I buy new ones. For those of you interested, my little goblin looks like this-

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-Yeah…and his name is Pazuzu hahaha just kidding, it’s Chad.

Posted in short stories

Là-bas

II

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Anita était âgée. Son âge et sa sagesse n’étaient pas de ces attributs qui se comptent en années, mais plutôt de ces particularités enfouies jusqu’à l’os qu’on n’acquiert qu’en passant par l’Hadès. Fille unique de la terre, elle grandit sans mere et sans père. Elle mangeait rarement à sa faim et dormait sur une natte qui ne saurait accommodée les reliques d’un décédé. Cependant gardez-vous bien de la plaindre, elle-même a longtemps cessé de s’apitoyer sur son sort. Elle a très vite compris ce que d’autres passent par une vie de déceptions pour accepter; le déstin éxiste et il n’est pas cordial. Et comme par hasard le déstin a voulu qu’Anita trouve refuge, (si on peut appeler ça ainsi) chez Toma et sa femme Zabèt. Zabèt et Toma n’etaient pas mauvais dans l’âme. Ils commirent des actes déplorables et même condamnables, mais tout cela pouvait être pardonné, racheté par un act de bonté, simplement parce qu’ils avaient donner le jour à Choupette, la meilleure amie d’Anita et sa sœur de cœur.