I remember every detail of that day as if it were yesterday; the two of us, alone together at midnight on that Saturday 21st. My heart was beating fastly, my legs wouldn't stop shaking; a part of me wanted to leave while the other was dying to stay. And then we stopped behind your car and after a simple goodbye you grabbed my arm. My shyness went away and I felt an urge in my heart to kiss you intensely until we ran out of breath there in the dark.
For once I was going with my feelings as I pressed you closer to my body, and I felt the need to let go of everything I had suppressed when I saw you leaning against my chest. I was so full of intense desires while circulating your waist with my fingers that I succumbed to my own weakness by allowing my heart to guide me with no resistance. And then I kissed your lips for one last time, and I felt emotions overflowing deep inside. And for a while I got lost looking in your eyes, as the passers-by saw how we melted under that street light.
On my way back home I kept on thinking about you and if that would’ve been the right moment to say: "I love you", just when I had you in my arms, lost in your eyes and gave you that one last kiss goodbye.
When the desire invades me unforgettable memories come to mind again of a moment that belonged to the two of us, in front of your house, on that 21st of June.
i had moved from the bedroom a few nights earlier i knew i wasn't escaping the giant red spider made of neon or the spirit that awakened me by slipping into the other side of my bed or the whispers just before fading off no, i wasn't escaping at all and on this night i was made aware of this fact overtly first the hair on the arm then the awareness the clarity and cognizant knowledge of someone else next to me have you ever touched a low voltage fence that surround livestock or horses imagine a finger with that voltage touching your ankle then your knee before ending at your wrist this was no nervous twitch no dream state imagined psychotic episode this was my spirit friend telling me you cannot run you cannot hide and you can no longer deny my presence this is my home and you are my guest now sleep tight
I lived for 2 years in a renovated library that was built in the late 1800's. there is more to the story that I cannot reveal at this time. I am currently working on a book that is an autobiography with emphasis on my spiritual experiences among other phenomenon that came my way.
Shine against cool winter’s skin Breath in place of crackling voice The room has been awoken with footsteps Behind a veil of black the eyes are left hushed She felt him, electricity buzzed Silently The motions felt swift, though lingered on cress Little glimpses, flashforwards to each motion Sparks Electric candlelight burns at edge The eye of the hurricane ascended Lifted She felt him, his hands like silk His touch greeted her, she fell Into the skeleton of the room Confined to their space of absolute Stars outlined edges, moments left to soak She could see without sight Each spin of the record Each hum of the base Comforted by quilt, entangled in skin
You used to be my favourite encounter. I used to go to this park And just sit on a bench Pretending to read my book Pretending to listen to the birds singing Pretending to observe the nature Pretending to take pictures. But I was just waiting for you. Everyday, around lunchtime, you came. You ordered at that bar You wrote some words In that little notebook that you carried with you everywhere And then you were gone. Once, you came with someone. He was a friend of yours I think, He asked you what was in your notebook. I remember that I listened carefully : “Drawings” that’s what you said. But I knew you were lying. I’ve seen you, several times, writing. Why would you lie? When we started to talk, some months after, I asked you the same question You had the same answer. But then you added : “Because for me, words are drawings. I don’t look at what they mean But at what they look like.” I like encounter as a word Because it is all *******, You can write it at one go But you have to raise your pen To finish the cross on the T. We too, were together, But at some point we had to part, Only to meet up the following day In an interminable encounter.
don't really know why I wrote this one but I'm posting it anyway :) I should study for my test right now but well
In the crazy busyness of the day where electric sounds suffuse, even a little chat is often a freeway of words and noise.
And in the midst, he tells me “Just be yourself.” There I am in the small space of silence being undone with nothing to say while I wonder what self.
A friend tells me they’re getting a divorce. The doctor says the tests are positive. I watch: the surge of floods taking homes and lives or images of smoke and debris right after a bombing. After a real serious play or movie. In the waiting room after I hear she is going to die.
In those lonely tiny spaces of darkness I cannot speak.
In those aftermath moments I am silenced.
How do I react to being out of control or make these things normal or fit them into my routine ways of being me?
Silence asserts itself like a wild animal I cannot tame.
At these intervals of being powerless I hope I do not miss the chance to humbly bow in silence and embrace my humanity and smallness in the cosmos where it is utterly trivial to just be my self.
In humble gratitude to Rowan Williams looking forward to his upcoming book: Being Human: Bodies, Minds, Persons.