heavy rain again

here s the infinite curtain of autumn rain sweeping across the city and bringing back the pinpricks of winter past again. The agony of true love? How very unreal in its spotless transparency, this memory of a blurry slippery feeling. The mother of all paradoxes.

the freshness and the odour of the long awaited rain brought back the pain. a deadly muffled cauterized version of the razor sharp late autumn shipwreck's survivor pangs. a soul wandered away from its companion, from its centre, from life itself to descend into the numbing void.

i ll wait for you i ll wait for you i ll wait for you until until until

until this awe eats up all that is good and beautiful and the rain reminds me of who ___ were. Where does this empire state pain come from? where does it come from? Is it from paradise lost? it s _____ ego. it s ____cowardness exposed. ____ monstrous self.

until ___ realize it was ____. ___was looking for a beautiful price and wouldn t let go. should ve let go that day in the English bathroom. early times high energy mesmerizer ____ ve always been. it was ___ ._____was dazzled by ____ glow.didn t see.


until __reached the forest, which after months of abstinence, could be nothing but a hideout for lovers in my imagination and ___walked its most civilized paths hand in hand like a sad sinless/sinful metaphor of repressed sexual urges.

tears well up and flood the rest of ____ dry life. daring ____. ___whisper |____ head off. ___ s a trap ____ s a trap. the trap ___re the trap. come back from the dead if ____ dare

been selfish____ didn t love. just wanted to think ____ had. just blinked twice or maybe three times instead of making a move. and who was a fucking coward? and who could ve fucked other bodies? ____ did in the end but couldn t ____have done the same thing. ____ re just human. ____m just human. ____liked to pretend ____ weren t. like we were pure light. ___now know there s young new generation pure light around. but ___ re not that and ___ m definitely not that. what a couple of suckers. ____was so perfect to look into ____ eyes for hours though.____were so perfect then. WE were art. at least _____were. ____ probably still are.

until ____ body wants to ache to relieve the pain. the sting metamorphoses into antidote and ____wish for sweet death.



until ____die. until _____ ask who ____ am and find out the ugly ____. the horrible ___. until the selfish monster doesn t even lurk in the shadows anymore. ___ ll always be a scar, always a force of nature.

the rain again

here s the infinite curtain of autumn rain sweeping across the city and bringing back the pinpricks of winter past again. The agony of true love. How very unreal in its spotless transparency, this memory of a blurry slippery feeling. The mother of all paradoxes.

the freshness and the odour of the long awaited rain brought back the pain. a deadly muffled cauterized version of the razor sharp late autumn shipwreck's survivor pangs. a soul wandered away from its companion, from its centre, from life itself to descend into the numbing void.

i ll wait for you i ll wait for you i ll wait for you until until until

until this awe eats up all that is good and beautiful and the rain reminds me of who we were. who i was in your arms. who i was in the front of your car with a dagger in my heart and my hardness of months screaming to be relieved.


until we reached the forest which after months of abstinence could be nothing but a hideout for lovers and walked its most civilized paths hand in hand.

until your body wants to ache to relieve the pain. the sting metamorphoses into antidote and you wish for sweet death.

until you can t breathe in and the tears seem to help.

you ll always be a scar, always a force of nature.

until I die.

grammar lines

exploding light
luminous ether
ethereal bliss
blissful celebration
belated wishes
wishful thinking
thoughtful palaces
palatial race


shipwreck doctor
aka shrink
shrinky intelligence
intelligent nonsense
nonsense means a lot
meaningfully unscientific
scientific white cloaks
clad in nothingness
nothingness means a lot
a lot of green
envy n greed
money greengrocers' dreams

novelists

arabic
writers

beirut blues by hanan elsheikh
little maountain by elias khoury

indians writing in english
r k narayan
vikian seth

kashmiri
agha shahid ali

indian descent
naipaul
bharati mukherjee

masters
faulkner
tagore
joyce beckett pinter
don delillo s underworld
mapulieus

get off me

get off, you pestilence.
you barred my soul and trashed my mind into submission.

get away from me, darling.
your sweet smile brought tears to my eyes.

get off me, you horrible cunt.
you shouldve stabbed your own red pumping muscle sprinkly deep.

get away from me, ma puce.
Eyes! sparklingblack high-density cellestial (s)fears, thump n crash beauty.

get off me, you filthy hag.
you injected your venom into the pure air.
then, fed it your stale antidote until i couldn t even breathe anymore.
made the air reek of you. it was either take you in or die.

get away from me.
dew dawn primerose petal
blinding dark light fleshy perfection

get off me, gorging tick!
get away from me, my true love.

cazz ne so io

sono partiti? quando?

still got a sense of humour...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2PzagXsD0Y

a witch-nosed learner's glossary

middle way humans
cultural impregnation quotient
australian giggly fit

break it down

break it down_________________________________________

i will. just give me a sec till i ve sharpen my typing little devils... aha. i ve just remembered some nasty shit i wanted to wrap up in my best flashy glowy wrapping. of course, it ll never reach the prospected mursal ilaihi. SHAME

i d love to see their stupid faces when they would nonchalantly open up the present. then, double take as their nauseated faces twist in disgusted shock. WHAT IS THIS? (IS IT?) yes it is. it s such a neat pile of dried up shit one would think it really IS a present. but reeeky reeeeeky comes off it like thickness off your daft ideas and firmly founded intellectual rubbish.

the level of humbleness down here on this day and age is so stupidly low that each and every one of us should have at least three PHD's were we our own judges.

missed me

walked down the long corridor to nowhere and realized i just wanted it to go round and round. like my mind was forcing this uncanny tunnel to just elooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooongate. i was pulling on the tick tock boa constrictor. the mechanical serpent s ticking didn t seem to put me off. i felt i would be there forever. like the same inexplicable morning apprehension was just the price to pay to be alive. like i owed life a lot. like i didn t have the right to move forwards to step on the pedal to break loose from my self-imposed chains and cuffs.

what is it that scares you so? been down some paths before. you wore your sunglasses and fake sunprotection. you got sunstricken and you were blind for days on end. still are. the light is not the luminous stuff we call light. it s something else altogether. you glimpsed that and got too close. it got you.  you were bday-blow-candle close to it and the light blew YOU away. it blew you OFF. now you re the shadow of your darkness and can t even look straight at the pale reflections of true light here on Earth.

some say pack in your bullshit  or you ll end up feeding on it.others say pack in your bullshit and you ll end up feeding someone it. either way, doesnt sound like something you d like to resort to. not sure how that d work out. feed on manure? you d be surprised how many of we middle way humans end up doing it. choose your value system then bend it beyond recognition until it's all but a recognisable by-product. go on bending it beyond breaking shattering shredding annihilating point. put it back together. obviously you still need to stick to your soap guns in the rain. wanna clean your principles. they look like shit once you put them back together again. your humpty dumpty is a de/re/constructed bullshit value system you ll have to feed upon to survive.


whose fault is it? i shouted. i was a man last night. he came to terms with his real nature.

double bass my own mind until it sticks to his cleaning soap guns and my bullshit principles drum me inside out for the world to see. I m a middle way man. Humane at times alien at times completely unreachable on most occasions. try to uncover me, i ll just have a double dose of my medicinefood. the one i had to resort to, to livesurvive.

she twisted his arm and made him bite on his own wrist until he draw blood. what did he care? thud thud went his body on the floor. clap clap went the people in the audience. we love a bit of fake drama don t we? dried of all humaneness, i was ready for the race. then came love. then, it all made sense for as long as i cared. back to wasteland mode. then came muffled love. back to heightened wasteland. then came tenfoldmuffled sexlove. then please yourself. the survival of the fittest wanker. after that, there came the middle way man of our time. aided by technology, widely spread bullshit munching and a army of no mum i ll just stay in front of my everthinninglightboard until my eyes pop out of their sockets together with the vinegarturning wine of my intelligence.

still human beings are capable of great things. beauty hiding in the middle of nowhere. you wouldn t know where to look. it s just there walking ahead of you as you think about your horrible fucking boss and how you d like to smash an old 70 s tv over his stupid chubby face Henry style.

i mean it, though! there are human beings whose souls glow like some pure metal and their shining reaches others. i know at least one of them.

i m flinging shit left right and centre. partly because i ve been accumulating quite a heap over time and havent been able to upload it onto other brains. why not writing it down? it s a good trick after all. feels like you ve finally got rid of it. like communication; like someone is meant to read it. they probably won t.

a tacit knowledge trick. once it s on written form it s out of your system. you d said it. communication s at the very least and most probably a remote possibility. funny though how if you say it out loud... writing it down is therapy, saying it out loud...
MADNESS!

at least i know one of them. at least one. at least i know. at least one. at least.

miss buddhist arse and mr you don t know english.

miss buddhist arse. probably thought everything d go back to normal after a few years. you can always reap what you sow. putting people on their knees and systematically giving then the hot stick up the wrong one and you still coming back after a few years wanting to find the best of each family to greet you back prodigal daughter style. there might be something wrong with the way you understood the concept of karma. has that ever occurred to you maybe?

mr you don t know english. you ve got your stupid brains smashed by the same earthquake that took the world by shitstorm a few years ago. the only kind of communication you re capeable of is this internet forum mumbling that goes on forever and leads to the emptiness that filled your intellect and certainly reached a bit further. your very core is now infested with the deadly maggots of barrenness. you re the seal of a cultural u-turn. the new face of an age-old fuck up.