A full stop that doesn’t want to be alone.
An ending that continues.
A declaration of an omission; an omission which reverses itself, if decoded by the reader.
A manifestation of cowardice on its one “edge”, but the absolute courage on its other. …
Where are you?
Will you come
out of the blue?
If I kill you,
would this mean
I’m a monster, too
Was your figure
in written formed
just for secrets
to be unexposed?
I am ready
all the symbols
for me to…
The sparkling water was observing me inquisitively;
Why did she pause?
Why is she looking at my dancing little bubbles,
while people move and talk and laugh around her?
And I was there, using the sound and the image
of that “dance” to help my mind rest.
The bubbles were going up…
Birthdays and name-days,
Easter and National Anniversaries,
mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights,
Christmas and New Year’s Eve,
they’re all accompanied by beautiful wishes,
not only for that specific day
but also for achieving your goals;
for the future to be as you see it when you pray.
Yet, something was missing in my mind;
the list had an omission.
Under this celestial roof,
where beasts and monsters breathe,
where dragons wait around the corner,
and wolves search for the sheep,
where Cyclops eat human flesh,
and Minotaur's labyrinths are built,
where Hydras wait in the lake Lerna
with their poisoned breath to kill,
where Medusas turn men into stone
looking at them directly,
and Pandora’s boxes release curses
“He said that to me", “She responded that I…”,
“They called me this and that”…
A moment that follows you for days,
walking as you walk, repeated in your head,
trying to be digested.
A moment that enslaves so many moments after it. …
When the rationalist uses intuition,
and the intuitive uses tangible data.
When a drama queen pauses before a usual reaction
and puts some thinking on the stimulus.
When the “inflexible”, rigid ones
liberate their expressiveness,
…loosening their muscles.
When the just-thinkers proceed to action.
When the just-do-ers are not in a hurry.
When an atheist researches what could…
Yes, I know. You have no problem
“I have many gay friends, and I respect them”
you said, as a proof; a theoretical proof,
an easy-to-just-say thesis.
Because before that, you had described how
your 29-year-old son was crying about a big
disappointment he experiences in the financial field.
The words slipped out of your mouth…
Drops of despair had fell
from the ceiling.
The sweat of the disappointed
evaporated, went up, came back in another form.
Recycling of sadness.
The house smelled like hopelessness.
If your aura was too positive
for their viewpoint about life,
you could sense the oxygen becoming
unfriendly; a go-away-atmosphere.
No one would tell you verbally to leave,
but your non-disappointment