Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Bob



There he was, my sweet warrior, my savior, residing inside the electronic speaker. He sat there with a weird smile on his face, awaiting some calamity, showing the way to millions of lost children like me, he was the philosopher of the moment, the painter of minds, the painter. He just sat there, and his voice reached me flying on the wind, with evergreen shades of love, with hope, with sanity. He sat there in some distant, dusty American town, with his guitar and his harmonica, and he sang to me little crystal lullabies of eternal belief. He was a true magician, an authentic trickster of destiny, of my destiny.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Bodily

Bawdry of the little dog
Over kissing on the moonlight ramp
Jam ma’am on a secret sign of two
Wilderness passing plies to the west
Sucking into the owner’s lips
Kilter on me, mill beside we.
Tinker finger onto caustic bee
Number two is greater free.
Free all past and passé see
Seizure listening to me.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Anna

Anna was already 29 years old when her boyfriend told her he wanted to marry her. She could not say she had expected it, but she wasn’t surprised. She liked him, he was earning well, they would be happy.

He was a little stupid. He did not take any pains to arrange an occasion or anything. He just told her one dry evening, when they were sitting in the corner of their park.

“Look… look, Anna.”

He leaned on her. She looked straight as he bent and put his head on her lap, between her knees. She couldn’t say what he wanted her to look at, but she was looking all the same.

“Anna,” he hesitated. “You know I love you? Huh?”

She was disgusted now, why he kept asking these things. And he hesitated with these things, this made her furious. Where was his confidence, and where was his decision? He was lying so comfortably, the bastard. She did not smile.

“What?” she said.

He looked up at her, mustering his courage and his sheepishness he hid behind his mask, but could not hide it, and it showed. He grinned now.

“I want to marry you.”

He laughed lightly, giving his joke away. Did he want to marry her? Did he want to have kids, these were important questions, at least for her. He should answer. He could make up his mind, if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“I want to marry you.”

What did he know?

Anna moved his head out of her knees, got up from the bench, and started walking without considering. She would get away a few feet, and she would think alone. He needed his moment, and he should learn. Now, she could not bear.

She kept walking away. But now, she had to look back. Once, is he still there?
She looked back towards him, and he was lying on the bench with his eyes closed, his feet stretched out to a full. Oh, he’s dreaming. Behind him, there was an old woman going away. She was walking with a limp on her left foot. Anna looked up towards the sky, maybe I want to marry somebody.

I can do with a pair of wings, blowing air towards air, and taking my madman up towards heaven, tying his hands to my feet. We could sail towards our land.

He wasn’t moving at all. He had only said it with half seriousness, he did not mean it at all. I will not walk to him and wake him, we want to go home. There is a home, there is a comfort.

He stood up and Anna gave him a hand.