Tag Archives: memories

Amazing traces…

Please watch before reading, and listen while you read:

The Idan Raichel Project – Hakol Over (Everything passes)

Idan Raichel clip 2

I need you to dream the colour of spaces,
the time between midnight, tomorrow and trees,
I beg you to fathom amazing traces,
layers of clouds returning to seas…

I dare you to picture small shells of forgiveness,
buried within improbable fields,
requiems sold to merchants of stillness,
swordless battles of useless shields…

I want us to marry in a destitute chapel,
by ministers chanting untimely hymns,
with broken pieces of soft marble,
exchanging a lifetime of broken dreams…

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Abandoned eagles…

Dreamcatcher

A flow of matter,
crossing bridges
paved with idle rivers,
of constant wars between no sides,
for kings and kingdoms rather old…
How bitter all the odds,
when knights die young
and simply for no reason,
alone with horses
mourning by their sides,
while all the humble flowers
of each season,
spell intricate mementoes
on their hides…

How strange each morning,
when misty eyes set memories
on fragile pages of honesty.
Uprooted trees of good
and bad, and life and evils,
abandoned eagles,
nesting in my chest…

Rejoice my queen,
you’ve got no symptoms
of anything to give you rest;
I’ve got some tea, you bring the branches
of something better,
never best…

Of smaller seagulls…

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Another, smaller seagull
paced across the wooden ashes
of yet another sunset…
No waters followed,
feathers scarce,
like unrepentant memories…
Again, alive it seamed,
so selfish,
screaming for a nest-shape…

Au revoir ma chère,
à bientôt, my lover
of way too many mornings
resting on your decks;
I called a helper,
harbouring forever
a life, a sentence, all together,
of unforgiving, hollow wrecks…

 

Photo: http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gull#/media/File:Seagull_in_flight_by_Jiyang_Chen.jpg

Moriah…

…so fragile

image

when tender mercies mourn
above forgotten mornings,
with sand beneath the alabaster dreams,
how few the sounds are
of unsung old memories,
unworthy on the parchment of what seems,
to be just shallow
echoes of some senses,
long buried
in my bloody battlefields.

they’re all Moriahs,
all my hills and mountains,
with stairs cut deep into my veins;

they’re mine the treasures,
mine the earnings
of all the bloody,
barren rains…

“Not dark… yet… ” – Schizophrenica Magna


I would remember
any time available for thought.

I could avenge all memories
chewable,
or less…

I should attain
for nothing more
than senses…

I?
Me!
Why?

Why’s no one else
available for thinking?

Why so alone
am starving here
for waitings, I…?

Bye…

Just me and I…

“Guard your heart, above all…”

or Orwell’s 1984, revisited…

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“Who controls the past, controls the future…
…who controls the present, controls the past.”
George Orwell

It’s never been easy to return… Anywhere…
Especially to places echoing unwanted memories, long gone past times stubbornly alive and well enough to torn -always nearly- healed wounds. Then comes the bleeding, the tears, and the eagerly seeking emotional “healers”, ready to open another “friendly wound” nearby, just to reassure themselves a higher place in some heavenly Disneyland…

Having -to some degree, and to the outspoken surprise of many- successfully baptised in two (1st, 2nd) former articles, Orwell’s “1984” onto a -never intended by the author- creationist pamphlet, I decided to return for a much needed revision of the past, motivated by my newly found liberty of thinking, in a honesty driven attempt to do some justice to both Orwell and myself.

To shortly summarise it, I don’t believe anymore in a biblical creationism which’s originator is supposed to be a deity not at all impressed by the worldwide daily torture and genocide of innocent humans, with a tragic emphasis on children -all for his glory-.
I never believed either, because there’s nothing neither rational nor logic to believe in, evolutionism, having settled myself into believing in mankind’s absolute depravity, in a world where the one thing worth living for, is the love of those who love you… And if no one loves you, read Philip Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” monumental Trilogy and you’ll see, you’re not alone!

Having said that, I shall proceed to using the introductory quote in a much more simple fashion than that of some fans, who like to over-complicate Orwell even when that hasn’t seem to have been intended by Orwell himself. Because it is as clear as an evening’s shadow, that Orwell’s statement is nothing more than a very logical statement of the obvious. Or, to have it a bit straightened, who controls the past, does that from the same present from where the future is highly influenceable too.
In my -actually our-, rather awkward case, the past starts exactly where any logical inquiry should start, at the unknown, precise moment of our collective origins, shrunk for practicality’s sake only to humankind’s.
To be frank, no one has the slightest, absolutely comprehensive idea of what and how it was, or about who has done it, I myself joining therefore the ever swelling number of the “ain’t got a clue” club, with its daily multiplying group, or individual branches, all based on fairly unclear preferences.

As the main reason of this “revisit” is an utmost determined attempt to change the present-influencing past, I have to humbly remind my reader that the “YouTube” called devilish invention (cursed be its name), stubbornly stores hours of my past, of which as much as I would dream about, I can’t dissociate myself. As a matter of fact, some of the issues discussed there still occupy the “convictions” shelves of my intellectual stand, those having to do with what Pullman called “experimental theology”, as they deal with both scientific and spiritual matters, an otherwise just fancy terminology for the seen and the unseen…
Unfortunately still, probably several thousands of gullible Christians are still being spoon-fed by interested groups and individuals with things I’ve honestly said in a recent past when I believed and vigorously defended every single thing I’ve said; nevertheless, that’s not the case anymore…
It was exactly the rigour of facts against make-beliefs which convinced me to take everything I’ve adhered to, down to those infrastructural basics where not even Paul the Apostate’s “hopeful belief” could paint over the plain, factual truth.

What can I do about it, now?

Well, exactly what you Dear Reader can see for yourself: writing out my heart, the one about I’ve so painstakingly learned it is not the root of all evil, but the one true fountain of anything left good in us, oftentimes so stained and tired that it does nothing but wrong, thus hopelessly crying out for help…

Do I control the past? Yes, by all means, if I am at any subsequent time able to take a stand against anything I’ve done in it, I am controlling it.
Can I repair the wrongs I’ve done in the past? Yes, by all means, if I am able to -at any possible level- address what I’ve done in it, I already started repairing the damage caused… All of it? Oh, come on!
We’ve got a problem, us humans, with this “all” concept of ours, which robs us of the so many, literally infinite satisfactions, sacrificed at the feet of our self-made gods of an inexistent “perfection”.
Nothing’s perfect, no, and sorry all you religious folks, your gods are no exception, otherwise how do you think we’ve gotten all this, historically proven c**p? Out of something “perfect”? Oh, please, would you grow up?
Any “all” has a start which none of us knows where and when it will end, bearing within like a seed’s germ, what’s going to grow of it.
There’s no wholeness, no perfection, just parts of an unknown infinite, where nothing has any meaning without it’s vicinity, where right and wrong have become mere points of view, and one’s life seems to always be, someone else’s death…
There is nevertheless a beautiful common sense of good, the one reflected back through the eyes of innocent little children!
They haven’t learned to lie yet…

Life sucks, my friends, or as the wise uncle Solomon has put it, “All is vanity.”
As a matter of fact, I should start a “new” religion based entirely on the biblical Book of Ecclesiastes…

Unfortunately for me, “There’s nothing new under the sun…”