Three dots can say it all… — … Three dots. Ellipsis. 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. …

Weekend’s prompt: inner situation=>outer projection — Lion, lion, Where are you? Will you come out of the blue? If I kill you, would this mean I’m a monster, too within? Was your figure in written formed just for secrets to be unexposed? I am ready to confront all the symbols you enclose. You exist for me to…

Written while I was repeatedly listening to “Golden Brown”* — A spherical matrix. The host of both the unique and the ordinary. An entity so big and so small if you dig. A matter full of spirit. A spirit full of matter. Energy formed, energy flexible. Alchemy only in silence is perceptible. So many events in so many microcosms. Everything is open…

I’m in a Revolution state of mind, yes… — Open doors. Guns free to use. Everyone can carry one. The law says now “you choose”. Closed doors. Female phimosis*. Your body doesn’t belong to you. The law says exactly this. The land of the free. The land of the dreams. The land of distorted definitions; sometimes, so it seems… …

or, post-reading — The book is breathing calmly in my hands for as long as I don’t see the trigger-messages It starts fidgeting after that; under- and over-doing are cages. It evaporates then before my eyes; It turns itself into a cloud. It enters my nostrils slowly to investigate the ground. I sense…

A seed is just a seed — The girl had a habit; every now and then she opened her mother’s purse. A few kids had told her at school that they also did that to take some change that their mother probably wouldn’t miss. She was a different case, though. She opened the purse just to see…

Snapshots from a poet’s day — A poem needed to be written; the poet was burning in creation’s heat. The words were pulsating in his head, speeding up his heartbeat. He tried to find a space of time where the day could become slower, to choreograph the swirling words, to put their dancing sounds in order. …