Will come a time,
when reason would no longer carry its weight
and logic would hide in bedlam’s shame;
when wisdom would be sought from the lips of tongue-less ghosts
and will would be tangled in a spider-less web;
when your prayers would sound like an atheist’s evensong
I need conversation.
The problem with strangers is that they don’t come with a promise, but I’m reaching out.
You’re not just “A” stranger, you’re MY stranger; and in this fateful communion may we both find solace, familiarity and unbound connection.
Every new experience, be it good or…
Musings of The Conquered
He adored her. He abhorred her. She evoked his concomitant happiness and weakness. He was caught in an everlasting paradox. For he was a deity and a deity remains.
Could that be the reason for our suffering? One can only wonder, my love.
Two three four.
Smoke blood bones tears,
Head counts in headlines
Two three four.
All that remains,
Of my brothers
are their names.
When I was young
There was a logic to it;
Die for the cause.
Kill for the cause.
War stops making sense,
Karla loves Frank. But she also loves Khaled. Pigs! The pigs are killing us one by one. But bullets are pieces of metal, they won’t be enough to silence us, he used to tell her. The cracked sidewalk, sprinkled with stray cats and black bags made it hard for them to walk straight, but they…
“We were great in war. And when there wasn’t a war, we created one of our own.”
The spark that first started it was the assassination of innocence. It was the afternoon of his twenty-first birthday when he officially declared war.
He was handsome and seemed to not be able to get enough of…
You’re born, and then you die, and in the middle you do your best to avoid being on your own. You seek a connection with people, nature, God, or a number of gods; you bury your soul in books or alcohol or drugs; you find a passion and you allow it to consume you—anything to reassure you that…
His heart is an electric pink sun riding on still forms, beautiful and deeply hollow, dissolved in unfinished sentences and prematurely abandoned lovers.
Her heart’s a parallel line, an untapped mine, traffic lights for veins, goldfish for brains.
My heart’s a mess, fetid and flailing, a swallow swallowed in the purple finned sea. But then you pat my brains and I’m sane again. Sane and sandy like rum boats and full moons.
Let me tell you something about me; I have a pretty unreasonable fear of the dark. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, and I know it’s pretty silly to be an adult who still hates venturing into the darkness, but it’s true. My mind finds it incredibly easy to populate my head with…
I don’t remember how it looked like to have a father. All I can recall is a small room in your mother’s house, where you chose to spend your last moments. The smell of your old books mixed with endless amount of medicines. Liver albumin, Silymarin, Liva Marin and all sophisticated…