The womb.

womanSometime at late fifties, on a dark winter night, on a small sea side village full of farmers lived a young boy called ”Nameless”; seems nuts. His mother got trapped between the father who sails eight months a year and a nasty boss who is around daily as she cleans the office and serves his coffee. Admit it, an old approach to life, cheaters are all over, regardless. ”Nameless” has got no education till lately. He learned the hard way, begging for passion and tenderness but mainly for house expenses that Father used to waste on the blond- Boss’s assistant. Damn it, ”Nameless” can take it no more. Father, left them to poverty that torn them apart. Mum has longed for a brave husband to defend her. The boss was a demanding cowered; just as the husband in most of the nights he was around.

How do you think son’s feelings were like then? Never mind, now he just doesn’t care. She used to plea for mercy time and time again. Surrounding males’ approach stinks ones soul. At those times, ‘’Nameless’’ saw it all. But, unfortunately, he was so weak to fight back defending his fragile mother. Mother surrendered and collapsed. ‘’Nameless’’ lost interest of school’s home works. Failed with all life’s aspects. A life that made him as fragile as a bleeding womb. A female attitude in a male’s body, toilet, and name maybe. Not sure of it all. Life has turned bleak just as mother’s cracked womb. Is it still hard for you to remember when Mum was as fresh as a morning blossomed rose, slushy as fresh honey?! Damn you Dad; if I may- We literally were turned into walking dead. Under the shower, bloody water drained away tears of  grief as it smoothly slipped over the shoulders. A totally new womb melted with anger. Curtains falls on a miserable scene; father arrives at the door step; Sorry, you are no more welcomed, neither is the Boss.


the name of the game

still valid! she wonders- loudly

satisfaction; Gosh, he never knew it;

love is no more here mate;

tears on the desert roads;

screaming your fears away;

she hugs his arm; tenderly..

she bleeds under the nasty trees;

failing apart as madness subsides;

can you still feel hear heart beats;

around the corner, she collapses;

her world turns lonely at dawn;

so sad, so mad, so glad, tell me how?

sovereignty, narcissism looms;

be by my side blond..calling your name,

wonna live the same game again;

leave her, it is the name of the game..

you will never gain again.

well, after all;

sometimes, it gets so wrong.


simple things; fear.

A true illustration of a fake individual who never existed even though his wife gave birth to a pretty girl. She was not blond but still charming at her fifties with three kids that was raised in complete poverty and a need for the simplest things of an average person.

Dad, can I walk you through the garden as I used to do before that bloody accident? Sure dear…since mum left, life has turned into a bitter sweet nightmare. However, she spent a happy few last years with Alfonso; a childhood dream love.

Let’s get breakfast first. It will not be helpful to start a new day so empty. Miss mum’s omelet with mushroom and pepper. Now, sharing the bad and good news is such a pleasant adventure. Leaving the morning filled with sadness wishing for a new Dawn. New fantasy that will be never disclosed before dooms day.

A strong desire for leaving the good old Alzheimer with the sunset in a windy summer night. Drive the wheelchair darling…mum would never have done so. Regrets looks for not helping with all very tiny simply stuff. Should father continue hating himself wondering how did it all go wrong? A simple thing for now; face the ever-lingered fears forcefully. Baby: tolerate, enjoy such a simple overwhelmed fear.

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dark alley..

How do you feel now Al fonso? Head full of grey hair, weak knees, you barely can lift her now. Come one mate, do not tell me you have forgotten the good old days when you have twisted muscles and six-back stomach.

Well, try to call her, you might get another chance to be loved. I know your feelings, she is still your favorite, a cute blond with a high heals and a leather mini black skirt. Got familiar of being stuck in your dark room smoking and then go to sleep drunk; missing a melody.

Your saxophone got rusted, craving for your fingers, pick it up and let us hear ”Feelings” the way you used to play while she dances with the grey-haired; those days, you were a man full of energy, life was so generous. Now and after twenty one years, it is a thwart to lose beloved ones; imprisoned in life’s dark alley till dooms day.


The fur.

She was waiting to cross the 6th road in Dallas when a six feet tall grey haired weird young guy stood beside her; staring in a fearsome was at her shoulders. She wonders, he said, I am sure you are scared; a bit- she replied with a swift glance moving forward. Shame, visitors are not allowed any more, still drunk guys move around the zoo.

He took of his coat and but it around her shoulders. Thank you, she whispered. You must be wondering whether we meet before? Yes, we did; two hundred years ago, in Bangkok. Do you remember when that early morning going out of the cotton factory. His heart was shaking of cold, she offered her red woolen fur, then walked down the stinky ally and took a glass of red wine in the dark restaurant, remember the blind waitress- she was gorgeous, blond and single.

Since then, he spent all those years hoping to find her; now that he did, he just wants to feel that fur again but with a hug; is that an extravagant?!

Around The World

A passenger once told a story of his trip around the world. They started from his home town where he was born naked. The first trip was via an old ancient railway train that took them for a three thousand miles’ nonstop tour. Passengers used to eat, drink, get drunk and have fun around the roof top pool. The train stopped at a sea port where the same passengers took a sea cruise that lasted fifty-one days. The cruise stopped at seven main sea side cities where the passengers where welcomed and invited for a traditional festival. Enjoyed the stay in the city center where shopping was a pure pleasure. Foreign exchange was somehow chaotic. But finally, it went well.

Passengers waited for the bus at the last cruise in a city with a lot of greenery and fashion designers, not mentioning the wonderful perfumes and lingerie factories. The bus drove to the last trip at an international airport where there was neither check-in counter nor they had to show their passports. The route to the boarding gate was just open and empty. A young blond lady welcomed the passengers guiding them to their seats. The take off was a smooth one. The pilot and the crew were so nice and welcoming. Sushi and white wine were served.

Guess what, he added: the trip was free and the ports, railway, and bus stations were gate-less.

Well, that is not at all possible.

It is, in an illusion; the passenger murmured…