love went wickedly silly;
Grey haired..full chin;
sunshine goes blurred;
notoriously undone..will you?
game changes after fifty;
silky death signs looms;
dressed in white cotton;
carried to his tiniest ever dim space;
now..play the piano;
enjoy harmonic tones;
with cowards in black;
angry?.. leaving behind good old bittersweet life;
to rotten beneath; alone.
At New Year’s Eve, he stretched his thin legs and laid on the grey sofa, he holds tight the TV remote control, she wonders, will he ever set her favorite channel! That never happened before without a long argument and argument. Dear, will you make us coffee, she whispers. His lungs get full of air, polluted kinda slur.
I am watching the news, maybe after words; he replied with anger. She wanted to get crazy, but decided to calm down, this was always the case the last twenty years of a dreadful marriage; soul traits cracked on such a special night.
How come they never enjoyed a dinner!? Tonight, she prepared his favorite dish with broccoli salad and red wine. Ironically, what a miserable night, your perfumes are getting dried in their bottles, check the shelves. When he is going to smell it on your fancy black lace mini night fit? Time to let go the hipster to love. Insist for hugs of freedom; a soulmate milestone.
”Life isn’t about finding yourself….
Life is about creating yourself.”
…George Bernard Shaw.
Brilliant, isn’t it?
However, the question here is; Knowing How and When?!
Tonight, he went to the same place he visited about six hundred years ago. Trying to find a clue or a trace of a crazy feeling he longed for since ever.
She was supposed to be still dancing on the stage with that tiny red lingerie. going around that shinny pillar. Unfortunately, he saw all other dancers except the one in the red lingerie. asked the waitress, she is off today, you know where she stays, don’t you? – a response with a yellow smile.
Yea, he remembers the apartment at the end of the ninety-one steps upwards narrow bushy ally. But, i would he still be able to climb those as he used to do?
tried hard, rested every few steps of the stairs that was almost covered with mud. knocked the door, she opened wrapped on a thick red woolen coat. Gosh, baby it is you! she sneaked a straight look to his eyes, then stared down to the door step murdering: My hero, where has your lust gone? – now I am torn.
in a few years’ time..
her charm fades..
fluffy skin hardens..
brown-eyed eyesight darkens.
a memory of a meager pleasure lingers,
selebrating pure kindness; Gosh, finaly,
eternyally; enjoy total madness..
brush life’s dust off her soul,
and hug her.
Last year, she shined when she got a pay raise..
this year she was extra positive that he will ask her to marry him..
yep.. life will sparkle again..
last month, bad news loomed spread in town
this week she felt it..roamers defined..
tonight he stepped in hugging a partner..
a young blond surrounded with attractive curves…
her feminine perfume filled the hall
Gosh…..not my sisteR.
just when the curtains of life starts rolling down
you recognize it
a scream, please days: mind my wig
take your oath; do not run that canary
a broken wing; hungry laid across the road
drove all night, never reached
a hazy destination
heart full of laughter
and a bit of tears
take me home, no not now
I wonna enjoy the funeral
Gosh, you look fabulous in pink
always hated your black oval hat
am i still me, still dubious, still fractured
never mind my cracked kidney
it will disappear soon
just keep it up; disconnected
then go to sleep; hug a billow.
wake up Blondie; feed me the bread
devils desire to tango. love at sunrise.
This is a true story with some adjustments…
Four kids for an extremely rich father with a glaring lavish life decided to throw their neighbor who lived all his life in tent beside their father’s villa. The father used to visit the neighbor every week before he recently pass away.The man in the tent used to get his living expenses from the father who allocated a portion of his harvest to the neighbors. The kids decided to stop this and sell the harvests without giving anything to the poor; then the man in the tent was thrown away.
The kids were never worried; they took a decision. The mother was always in disagreement with the husbands’ attitude; she supported the decision. In a winter stormy night, heavy rains, scary thunder, intense lightning; a man was shouting: Fire..Fire…the kids’ farm was completely destroyed. Blaming each other, at sunrise- they rushed to the fields. Gosh, all turned into ruins. This is because of what we did to our neighbors, the youngest shouts. They spend years praying, but useless.
Life goes around; they end up in a tent.
..when you are around;
day and night_ ,
with no feelings.
Death left cemeteries,
enjoy empty wine glasses, and
keep memories of graves opened with honor;
fluffy ghoulish figures are welcomed.
i am here, since ever, as ever,
laying down with my favorite sadness,
none-sensed rubbish angry tears..
surely, lovin all kinds of memories;
deeply, it lingers on;
cold look, yest charming,
boiling the blood in my veins,
insanely, all the veins
sadness at sunset,
sadness, evolution, rainbow;
ironically, coloring all moments orange,
creeping grieve; another miserable birthday party
ever since you left; kindness disappeared from the planet.
Now, you are here again.
will you take all the orange colored life,
the spirit, the purified mood?
again, to exit your paradise;
into a pure sadness, alone;