#alinmarch2015
You don’t have to come
when it’s my call apart!?
I am following the route of
my promise
given
to a child
a girl with a stray cat
always found by the same cat
different color
different shape
once she also read the Tripods
long ago
but
*No
You are not
her White Mountains
I met you on the way*
Find the truth
for me- she said
in plain joy
bring us home
when you grow up
Home was where you could create magic
A spherical -transparent ball
a living crystalline - singing
made of colorful -universe particles
don’t forget
this one also has a crest
remains invisible to
they who do not
already know
the way - inscribed
along caves
above the eye- and
promise to keep me
alive by your side
as a beat in your heart
I promised
...
I grew up
...
I forgot
…
Forgot to remember
until I met love
until I heard the beat
and remembered
and escaped just
*No
You are not so near
You are always here
It was me who ran away*
I saw it all coming
before
our roads crossed
and planned to
lend you my heart
for a temporary time
of mortal maybe
while
calculating
if -s
If
I were
not
good enough
for me
for you
for her
…
Keep it well I said
and plain for me
cause I gotta be free
and promise to always
stay oceans away
from me
is
our decree of creativity
Pains I passed
belonged to
the absence of
her or of you
were set as traps
on both sides
of a rewinding tape
each gaze pulled us back
to the same awful track
until I learned to move ahead
cause you gotta be free
yeah and keep it well for me
cause we gotta be free
For we
I travelled worlds
of the destroyer
until I learned to destroy time
and move ahead
from a central soundless line
some of the illusionary erased
others of truth stayed
to make difference
at shores of wisdom
at waters of innocence
at crests of all sense
I was healed for
the healed is here
to heal
but
alas
in the meantime
you made my heart real
Choiceless and reduced to one
I bounced back to you and
to a place where we started
as if a promise is broke now
or of decree surpassed
hoping the -only if-
by creativity
?
all we can do is walk
the unknown verse
made by a quest
towards the sun
we shall see then
the golden dawn
at rest is at now
blessed we are and one
truth of her dream we become
or else none (be destroyed by time)
and they sang bold
the chorus of her dream
*Is she home yet?
or still out playing ? ...again with that cat*
mom said
as if
...
but no
all I heard was my heartbeat.
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
All I wanna do is dance with you
Cause that's the only best I can do with you
All I wanna do is dance with you
Cause that's my only best I can do with you
I've got no words for clever chats
Use those for your free time
Cats
you can pet with your boys and girls
For news I've lost track of sense
All stories now past tense
Sweet Pastry Mmmm Tasty but too Hasty
Njoy these with your family
Cause we just rhyme
like Apples on your tree
and
All I wanna do is dance with you
cause that's the only best I can do with you
Spare your ring of marry me
for she
who does your laundry
because
All I can do is my best with you
and All I wanna do is dance with you
with you
oh with you
with you
yeah with you
all I wanna do is with you
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
Maybe it’s that star
Maybe not
Look at its shine, twinkle and sides
Do you recognize?
Maybe it is
maybe not
There is no answer
to that question
When there is a question
There is no answer to
your question
When you question
cause
When it is - then - it is not
cause
when it is not - then - it is
Maybe it is
maybe not
look at its shine, twinkle and sides
you don’t need to recognize
cause you know just
when you know you remember
you need not do much
no no you need not do much
cause then it is
then the cloudy hell not
just sing so
and so way
it
becomes
a star
only a star
and
that star
and
that’s how
and that’s why
and that’s how and that’s why
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
There is a bling bling website
to which you can cling
and make a sound of ting ting
and call it poetry
You never know who is behind it
What technology runs it
Who the hell monitors it
but then again
Why would you worry about it
when me is you and you is me
I and we
I/we i.e. you
who me?
No
I/we
meaning I is as we and we as I
so me as -it or he- is
I/we
when it/he
defines self
so
to me
then for me and from my side
I/we is you or
you/they
where you is they
and they is you
then who the hell is you
YOU
uhuuhuuhuu
ahhahahaa i get it now
its no wonder really
that it’s you
you! of course you!
you! you! you!
looking for mystery
as much as I do
clicking endlessly
landing recklessly
in lost lands
of
True
oh only true
oh always true
:)
#bling #bling
#cling #cling
#ting #ting
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
when we are truly free
Mountains are our rocks
We their ears and eyes
meditate
Monumentalized
Watch oceans and skies
Sing a sacred song
outside timeness
Unknown to our minds
but with our hearts
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
when angels get deadly bored in angelland
they decide to matchmake yin and yang
a breathtaking game of -love and hate- kicks off
their watch broadcasts meditative brittle glitters
as expected from the dutiful glitter brittles
finally they also have fun
oh the glorious common hearted one
but for a while it remains
and ubiquitousness escapes
within that while infinite loop
while with
condition always returns
true
assured they are
to have hoarded a concept of none
because only none can break the program
it runs
through
curls and whirls
attracts and repels
hums and vector sums
bubbly groans
made of sour cherry wood drums
asymptotic shapes of ascension moans
'Oh yes this surely is miraculous!'
one for fun
one for ‘oh please be my hon’
Stay at the jolly night of proms with us
we are so heartily amused!
They travel beyond ignorance
to a pointless point of their own absence
‘for the land’
they repeatedly say
from far far away
lost words as such
slowly produces by-products
made of tingly-wiggly bugs
capable of delaying holiness
of now
capable of creating time
for no one
with a halt sign
until game of supremeness bears a ...
break!
made of HUM
a Sound
like none
heard once
along the aileron of a vitreous dome
while
the unheard stays
with the one
and which is of one
wipes off that angelland
for the better I guess
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
your arousal fantasy
is a catch for me
comes in sound waves
enters my head
from the right ear
but no action required
I say
just observe
so I
pull it up a bit
- the activated tip
in the crypt -
from the line beneath
towards the umbilicus
spread
- the well calculated
as if instantly
phononized insanity
validating
vibrational ascendancy-
along the void
and render
all the whatever
patiently
in less than a moment
lest the mind won’t interfere
amid balancing the belly
I half
the remaining
equally
push one lump towards the zenith
another vis-a-vis the right feet
so it finds a correct exit
while especially the
toe tip
beside the small one is affected to be
the immediate target of delete
I shut personal sensations
of ‘I don’t like it’
so that I can dump
with a pure desire
to return to sender
as is required
as much as earth receives
air insists
for its ascending part
an accuracy of might
a simultaneous rush of flow
a cause of cranial vertigo
lasting less than a moment
on the right
quasi ready to squad
the head
but No - I fight not
fighting means slavery at your side
whereas your side exists not
without that foxy fight
hidden under smarty pants just
a mystified puff-gloom intensifies
but gets shot
in one bite
ready to gobble the pretender
which I am not
and flushes oh the so lonely
oh the so broken hearted
transforms to a flatus-cloud
heads up and up
en route the dark
skies full of angry-clouds
oh my brrrrrrgghhhh
even they take it not
hurriedly move aside
an irregularly contoured
eloquent ******
ethereal space shapes
softly
along the
cotton like subtlety
pliantly tight
so you can pass
while I happily look up
to sing the
Oh Lovey-Dovey
See!
You also have some use
Finally
and Yes!
The sun shines for us
most beautifully
diminishing your blues
through the enchanting
blue of the patchy
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
The Sun Is Shining Today
The Storm Has Finally Stopped
a statement says:
<we have done something yesterday
nothing like our best
just something
to stop that storm>
the statement returns true as fact
inconsequent gestures of nature
we weave
to serve an unknown wish
-made of numerous physical and non-physical senses-
so that fabric of a network
evolves itself
materializes sense
sense to fabric
fabric to sense
scientifically improbable it remains
an infinitesimal loop
unwinds when you are not there
runs within an ideally operating closed circuit
remains invisible to the factual eyes of daily lives
an etheric vitality
materialized by our definable senses of touch, of smell, of see, of taste
and some of yet undefined ones
- possibly assigned to maybe a Poetic Variable-
executable within that program of simultaneous causalities only.
So then Only then
When You Combine the patchy Network
of Things
of Beings
You Can Dance Them
Sing Them
Play Them
Make Love To Them
Become One With Them
Compose Them
but
All these on condition that
it remains as an unpacked gift
Without telling to Yourself
or to Others
or to That Storm
because
You Don’t Even Have An Intention To Stop The Storm
All you do is Wish for Sunshine so you can maybe bike tomorrow
But again
How important is it really that biking tomorrow ?
I mean when sighs and cries whirl around?
a statement says:
<you can’t stop wars by fights>
the statement returns true as fact
And
if I know that
you can stop storms by touches
touches to smells
smells to lights
lights to metals
metals to elements
elements to stars
stars to flights
flights to a breeze on my fingertips
breeze on my fingertips to an auric kiss
then
I think maybe it is **** important to keep a seemingly futile wish to bike to a beach of my dreams tomorrow
so that I can be blown away on a broken December day
and let my long hair collect dune corrals made of cosmic ray
Huh So Yeah
I can Stop Storms if I want to or Create Some!
- not because I need to for my own sake or think about it.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
As I walked
the usual
dark alley
unhurriedly
I looked through
the living room
of three figures
standing around
a table
under a huge
glassred lamp
discussing something
maybe about the glow
which seemed nothing important
to discuss about
but crucial
to keep them together
implying the warmth made
of their circular bright light
I did not slow down to look further
just rendered quickly
the visible to eyes subtle details
of their well chosen wooden furniture juts and
the color combination fitting well here and there
to complement the tones of the woods as if
things were meant to be useful for them
were in fact secretly placed to color
I will also have a red lamp when I grow up I said suddenly
Just the fool’s remark longing to reserve a
placeless thought in my mind
Placing me in a long forgotten abandoned time
in no time
smiled
and realized
only after they all passed
as if a ship faded
I remained
within an illusionary mobility
swept in waves
dizziness like sea-sickness
reminded
through a fresh splash
of tiny airy droplets that
I am already grown up
Were these the call of the stars
I looked up
and left a frozen smile amongst
No I am not intending to own any red lamp very soon
Owning things require an objective responsibility
to build their unleashed memory
to be passed over to nexts
by smells by touches by lives to commemorate
Stars justified just
They were my ceiling since a while really
of streets that I live in to dream only
about tales about houses about little things mostly words
then again cannot really rely on or be relied on
Words follow each other and not always can I stop to pen
I immerse and be one of them
that’s then home for me
for a while for a moment
temporary
as is life without a purchasable red lamp
or haven’t I yet found that very roof
made of all of me’s each fully longed
there is one obviously one
sometime
sometime when time is not questioned
and that’s only when I can make one
maybe yes make one
is an egress
like she always says
draw one
write one
as I do now
or maybe one physical one
that may be the dream of someone
who knows
as long as it grows
to something that can be passed on
full heartedly
with its imperfections
signed by the spirit only
for hearts
may they interpret it as freedom
and yes that’d be something
to travel with
further than the reckoned
counts left from now
39 maybe
if I am lucky
and for that kind of measure
if I am one
now
there still is some 18 counts more to go
till the Red Lamp
would that number also be good enough for growing up
Right?
or was the logic vice versa
hmmm so
obviously there really is a subject matter of growing up still
the fool was right in the end
right again in fact
with its flourishing heart
so I can then also stand to see
the you
in the glow of my red lamp
with me
Would that be in the light of eternity?
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC