Carla told me to infiltrate.
To ignore all the precautions,
And breach my resistance under a full moon.

After all, she said, your sadness isn’t a disguise.
Your gloom is genuine, although prefabricated,
Surely you see the blueprint.

You have planned your demise since childhood,
Carefully constructing a fortress of self-abuse,
You don’t self-medicate, she said, you obliterate,

And then you wear your inadequacy like a crown,
As if to say no one feels pain like me.
This blow of sorrow, your prevailing wind,
The smell of burnt hair follows you, your melancholy assaults.

God, I can sense your anxiety blocks away, Carla told me,
Even if I’m baking chicken *** pie
And drinking breakfast tequila,
There is always this gust of despair.
And your current ability to fester a modest nausea,
In everyone, everywhere you go,
While amazing,
It only convinces, even your intimates,
That you have begun an irreversible decay.
Jesus, either you act now or you will disappear, Carla said.

You have one option, Carla told me,
Confront yourself and
Think about death honestly every day.
It is the only way for a depressive,
A man in a life jacket, she said
To survive.

Comfort yourself early, before dawn,
Curl up with your litter of pillows
And in that storm, that tornado you pretend is a bed,
Lie still, stare at the cracks in your ceiling
And search for spiders, Carla told me.
Wait until the disappointment of waking up alive again, subsides,
She said,
And while the sounds of the toilet you left running all night,
Convince you of the futility of self-improvement,
In this hollow moment,
Allow yourself to passively, selfishly, contemplate death.

Do not conjure up the act of dying, Carla said,
It is deviant and corrupt and insincere to rehearse your final moments,
And as you know, she continued,
I have no inherent objections to suicide.
After all war is mass suicide
And where would we be without violence,
Jesus, nothing would ever get done, so no, she said,
This is not that at all.

And God knows with your ego,
If I tell you to think about death,
You will descend into hero worship, she said,
Or worse, martyrdom and quest,
No, Carla said, imagine what death is like,
Think scientifically about what it means to be dead.

I will never get out of bed, I replied,
If I’m encouraged to wallow.
If I roll over before I wash my arms and feed my birds,
I may recoil forever.
You know I have an addiction to thought, I reminded her,
An adhesive meme,
(Why did that woman throw her cat in the garbage can),
Will arrest and detain me for an entire day.

It’s worth it, Carla said,
I want you to understand the carefulness of death,
The miracle of pain in absence,
The cessation of doubt,
The sudden end of futility and horror,
And I want it to absorb you, all of you,
Until you become reassured of its tenderness,
The fairness and equality that ends all things.

There is no need to frustrate,
To pray for significance, Carla advised me,
Free yourself from heroism and
Your self-destructive pattern of wishful thinking.

As it is, the number of women you sleep with and discard
Should be punishable by jail time,
When will you learn that fulfillment will never be a number.

And your attempt to write a novel,
Is tiresome, the delusion insulting,
The pretense unforgivable.
And the lies you tell,
The anger you express,
Mostly from a stool,
Undermines everything you claim to be.

You have a mirror,
Probably one that hasn’t been cleaned in a century
So use it,
Study the creases in your face,
Your boxer’s bruised eyes,
Jesus, why do you always look like you’ve just lost a fistfight.

I stared at Carla, my cup of coffee warm between two hands.
Ok I get the death is my reward thing, sort of, I said
But how do I salvage any joy at this point,
Is my life, my whole ******* life, going to be a stockpile of misery.

Christ, you are a perpetual novice, Carla said,
And I have the feeling you are about to drool,
Listen,
Death isn’t our reward,  
But to those who corner it,
A well worthwhile prize.

I don’t want you be puzzled by outcomes anymore, Carla said,
Do they like me, do they hate me, do they even know I exist,
You must stop chasing and being overwhelmed,
Be consumed, be rebirthed by the attractiveness of irrelevance,
Empower yourself with insignificance,
Forgo your Causa sui willingly,
Surrender your need for meaning, purpose and story
And go sit on a bench for a year, nothing more.

You must allow the softness of death to befriend you, Carla said
And when you do,
You will stop being impulsively afraid of everything,
Perish your self-serving search for an absolute truth,
Accept your limits without choking on your limitations,
And your confusion will degrade, she advised.

Carla frowned and turned away from me.
Usually a crow flies by when we part.
If you **** yourself, I want to be there, she said.
She undid the top button of her coat,
Took off the necklace with the crucifix and the picture of John Lennon,
Threw it into the East river,
And squeezed my hand as brief and sudden as a ghost.

Redemption

1. Happy Joe Lucky

Happy go lucky Joe trusts cheerfully to
Luck and never worries about the future.
To be lucky is to be wise, but some say Joe’s
Good luck is also his foolhardiness.

Joe never evades love.
He never shuns demands.
He never dodges conflict.
He never inhibits invitations.

2. Carla Maria Mendoza

The ballroom invites Carla out of the
Repressive hole she has spent her life in.
As the dancers whirl past she wipes away
Tears trickling down her astonished cheeks,
Aware that her knees have started to move.

She is working more intensely than at
Any time since she was five; her tears are
Joy and the look on her face is elation.
Carla is re-charging her batteries,
Taking the world in, weighing it all up.

Carla thinks by moving in unison,
These dancers shake off futile defeats.
More than anything she wants to lose her
Divided self in their collective world
And have pleasure unite her many parts.

She needs lifting out of her oppressive
Disquiet, her relentless struggle to stay
Alive, to be reborn on the dance floor.
Dancing as a child was miraculous
And she’ll be a magical child again.  

3. Joe and Carla

Carla moves gently up and down,
Thinking that fruit is rewarded with
Sweetness after months of bitterness.
Joe sees the intense piety of her moves
In silence; his words would shroud the
Ecstasy of her actions in obscurity.

Smiling, Carla unbuttons her shirt.
She remembers the angel of death
Gliding gracefully into her bedroom,
Displaying his impressive wings.
She’ll never be afraid to die alone.
No one enters Joe’s world lightly.

Joe offers Carla-Maria his hands.  
She opens her arms; her coat falls.
Every dancer watches as Carla takes
Joe’s hands and slowly shuffles one
Foot forward and then the other.
Joe’s archaic life glows with intensity.

The life of a sensualist is not an illusion.
Brief encounters and chance events are
Ephemeral but noble, they’re like gifts of
Abundant moisture from a virile earth.
Joe bends his knees, willing Carla’s love
Of pleasure to bloom. Her bliss is close.

Not expecting a dance to occur, Joe
watches Carla shuffle forward wearing
A smile that has the countenance of one
Who deserves a reward. She’s sharing a
Thing that’s close to poetry, carrying
Out an act of justice that’s long overdue.  

Seeing the disquiet that has filled Carla’s
Days, Joe whispers gentle words in her ear.
Let your action start at your heart, move
It to your back and send it down your legs.
All eyes are directed at Carla who is snared
In the carnal existence of ballroom dancers.

Reticence is about to engulf her when she
hears Joe whispering again. Be indulgent.
Carla’s knees bend and straighten just like
She did as a child. The physical beauty
of her movement is like a sumptuous gift,
It’s is the action that will change her life.

This is Carla’s redemption, the move she
has hung her dreams on, a new commotion
In her life that will cause her heart to know
Of a love that operates beyond the realms of
Legend, where she can sing to the stars and
Fill the heavens with her growing pleasure.

(Geraldine, Carla and Erica found a letter, which they thought it was an important document belonging to someone living miles away. It was clear that a person entrusted the written paper to a messenger after putting a wax seal on it. The seal was placed on this document in such a manner that it was impossible to read it without first breaking the seal, which was very dry and brittle.)


Carla said, '' Let's read and bring to life the stories behind
These manuscripts, '' ''Let's find who was the owner and who handled
These books and papers.'' ''Some memories come back into my mind, ''
''I love to read; it’s so dark in here, let's light a candle, ''


Said Erica; they saw scribbled notes written on the margins
Of the books and the changing ownership of some manuscripts.
''An Arab medicinal work for Jewish use, that’s for certain.''
''Is it? '' '' It's translated into Hebrew; I think it's fabulous, ''
(… Replied Carla.)

Geraldine opened a book saying, '' This is a Persian
Medicinal work translated into Turkish; it must be
More interesting; they treat using a different version.''
''This copy of the book written by José Vicente.

(..Said Carla,)

Has a lot of geographical and astronomical
Information; you can learn to measure the distance;
It contains the main cities, oceans, '' ‘‘It’s phenomenal! ''
''Mapmakers, '' '' it's like a trip to another existence! ''
(..Exclaimed Erica,)

''It shows which stars are visible or not, the solar cycles
And it is illustrated with tables, diagrams, and maps.''
''Is this a Holy Book? I'm not good in perusing these titles.''
''Yes, it's written by Francisco Javier, a nice one, perhaps, ''

(Geraldine replied to Erica, knowing that she was a Russian not knowing too much Latin. Geraldine continued…))


''It's about a convent established in Mexico City
For any daughter of a conquistador who lacked dowry.
''Look, Aonio Paleario! I think it’s such a pity
To contradict the Catholic dogma; this language is flowery, ''

(…Said Carla.)


''It's a copy of a rare book. Does this contradiction mean
The trouble with the Inquisition in these Reformation times?
''He had the most influential protectors I've ever seen.''
But his protectors died; there are notes between the lines, ''

(Carla answered to Erica. Carla continued…)

‘’The Spanish Inquisition is run by the civil
Authorities of Kings after centuries of Muslim
*******; the execution became official
For the Muslim piracy to turn it down to very dim.’’

(Geraldine intervened in the conversation…)

‘’Spain had asked the Papacy to set up the Inquisition,
But the Papacy refused. Then, Spain threatened Rome
With not coming to give aid against the Muslim opposition.
Their armies sacked Rome and made southern Italy be their home.

The Pope set up the inquisition only for Christians.
Over time, the torture was not to be done more than once,
Was not to threaten life; there were Spanish transgressions
By the lawyers who oversaw this system from hence.’’

(Then, Erica told them…..)

''In England, the person convicted of public begging
Has a limb chopped off; a Catholic priest in England
Teaching school is executed.'' ''There're penalties for bringing
A false witness against someone; England's laws also bind Ireland, ''

(….Replied Carla. Erica continued….)

''There is a secret collaboration between London and
Tsar Peter of Russia.'' '' He is known as Peter the Great.''
''There are notes on a book; while travelling to Europe, he shunned
The persons knowing him, '' ''He wanted to change his country's fate.''

(Carla expressed her point of view regarding what Erica said. Erica continued…)

''He studied new developments in shipbuilding; he lived
In Deptford, at the home of John Evelyn, a writer.''
''This letter is from England and I’m a bit surprised
'Cause this letter should be brought to a Russian.'' ''A fighter


Was this messenger.'' ''Maybe this man is the ghost we feel.''
''Did King William help Peter? '' ‘’He increased trade with Russia.''
''Peter loved a peasant and, wanting his love to conceal,
He made her be his domestic serf.'' I've heard she's from Prussia.''

''She's from Lithuania; her name is Catherine; he married
Her secretly, '' ''But he's married, '' '' He divorced his first wife.''
'' He worked as a carpenter; his interests were varied.''
'' Friend with Marquis of Carmarthen, he started a new life.''

(Geraldine tried to open the letter a little without breaking its seal. '' I think it is written 'Catherine' or 'Carmarthen.' '' ''Impossible, '' replied Carla, ''It would be much more important than any other one and it wouldn't be lost here. Give it to me.'')

(Erica said,)

'' King William gave Tsar Peter the ship Royal Transport
As a gift; the ship's designer was Marquis of Carmarthen.
As King Augustus of Poland, King William showed him support.
'' This messenger traveled many miles to take his ship again.''

(Erica told them that she feels like she's about to faint. Carla ran down the stairs to bring vinegar and water and Geraldine hurried to open the window. Meanwhile, Erica took a document from the box and hid it under her dress.)

(..to be continued.)

Poem by Marieta Maglas)

Carla was a beautiful woman liking to dress in green.
Sometimes strong and other time weak, she needed to face the life.
Inside her, there was a child hoping to push the life scene
Into its own condition and the things into their right strife.


Her husband Pedro was very wise and precise, a strong man
Needing to gain stability while turning back from New Spain
To rebuild the life and to go forth on a new plan.
Their children and parents waited for them to come home again.

(Geraldine and Carla were talking on the deck. Carla started to confess.)

‘’Her name is Beatrice and he loved her for a while needing
To leave the family for a new meaning in this world
I loved him secretly while her scent I was breathing
I understood that I've lost him when our love became a sword.

I knew I was a mother in this combination of three,
And, sometimes, I thought Beatrice should never exist.
And other time I wanted to leave everything to be free,
Or to end my life because it was so hard to resist.


I've tried to talk with her and the situation to explain,
But she laughed while telling me that Pedro is her lover.
I understood her laugh and that my efforts were in vain.
I was ill when we traveled to New Spain to recover.''

‘’ Carla, the things are not always as they seem to be.
You'll overpass this moment because you're a strong mother.
You must take care because nothing goes well as long as he
Doesn't assume the responsibility as a father.’’

Bella and Miguel liked to live in their own world of two.
They had a house in Barcelona, and they traveled to see
The world; they stayed months in India to throw backward a new view.
Marco and Rosa wanted their spirits to be free.

They were turning home after living three years in New Spain.
Carla and Pedra traveled with their husbands who were twins.
Rosa convinced them that in that place their strength is spent in vain.
Life became a music coming from the water violins.


Carla said, ''the education helps women to make
Right choices in marriage.'' Bella replied, ''What's a marriage?
It's not only a consecration in a church, an awake,
But it's a contract, an act no one can disparage.''

Miguel said, ''it's a transition from a moral conscience
To a pure concept of consciousness.'' ''You start to see it
As itself, '' replied Pedro, '' to eat the bitter consequence.''
''It's tied to moral identity when love is in a fit, ''

Replied Bella. ' It has a Cartesian nature, ''
Said Carla explaining why love comes after the wedding.
''Then, the moral sensibility shapes it to our feature, ''
Replied Bella.Miguel smiled, '' tenderly in our bedding.''


'' The disparity in intelligence leads to misery, ''
Said Carla, ''the marriage must be based on a lasting friendship
Rather than on an attraction experiencing agony.''
Pedro said, '' when love is distorted into a sword to rip.''

Miguel said, '' the marriage that is not consecrated
In a church has the same legal validity.''
'' The lovers may marry secretly, but it's complicated, ''
Said Carla, ''and it's hard for the women of nobility

To make an independent living.'' Pedro started to grin,
'' To secure a husband is a matter of great importance.''
''She's an object of thought, '' said Miguel while touching Carla's skin.
Pedro said, '' happens only when we seek love in abundance.''

Carla said, '' the women's career options beyond mother
Are none; they cannot have the same opportunity as men.''
Pedro replied, '' your impracticable thoughts make the father
Leave the family.'' '' He's not allowed to come back again.''

Miguel said, ''She's allowed to express her sexuality.''
Carla said, '' it depends on how the woman perceives this thought.''
Bella started to play to inspire human morality
Using the violin to imitate cats' sounds brought to nought.
(to be continued..)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

(Pedro said,)


When we cross this line between friendship and hostility,
We need a lot of attraction to save our marriage
And to compensate for what's lost; a betrayal facility,
Thus, is created; '' '' Miguel says that something to disparage



(Carla continued,)



Is the contradiction between spouses, which can be useful
When your partner becomes a thought of your consciousness
Evolving in meditation; our passion of love is truthful,
When we understand the things that are discrepant or less



(Carla continued,)



Familiar; Miguel suggests that the idea about
The perfection can be continued in another marriage,
Which can be performed after the divorce; ’’ ‘’ Bella said that, no doubt,
These tensions being teased by some *** led to zero and disparage.



(Replied Pedro. He continued,)



Miguel and Bella needed each other's opinion
Without expressing any certain aspect of their
Divergent thinking; Miguel could hold dominion
Over your heart because you were vulnerable and too fair.



(Pedro added,)



You took care of your beauty to maintain this attraction,
In our relationship, but your beauty caught his attention,
Because Bella didn't give him too much satisfaction.''
''Her love was based on sense and sensibility rather than



(Carla continued,)



Reason and emotion; ’’ ‘’you've made an effort to have a precise
Grace; you use flowers for your body bath while poetry can clean
Your soul; you eat less and move more than others; so, take this advice
And be natural like Eve; you know what I mean.''



(Replied Pedro. Carla replied,)



''I wanted to prevent this tragic end- the infidelity.
Miguel told me that we had never been together as soulmates
While you had thought that my ideas had meant the absurdity
Of the perfectionism; '' '' you pushed me to the betrayal gates



(Pedro continued,)



In order to separate me from Beatrice; every time
I left home, you were wondering if I would do this or not.''
''Our marriage was approved by God; from children we hear His chime,
And your relationship with Beatrice will come to naught.




(Carla continued,)




Miguel was better than you because he chose a platonic
Way to betray his wife; I've just been humiliated
While negotiating my love with Beatrice; so chronic
Were her manners to discourage me, but I've communicated



(Carla continued,)


With you against odds; Miguel had been in search for other
Soulmates; Then, he could admire Bella; God didn't give them
Kids but they didn't divorce 'cause she wanted to be a mother.
In an impure marriage, there's a betrayal I can't condemn.’’



(Pedro said,)


'' The sin is the occasion for grace while bringing repentance, ''
'' The sin can only diminish this hope to comprehend
Our Lord while we can return to the position of acceptance
Through the pure procreation; without name or end



(Carla continued,)



Is the suffering of our children, and they are innocent;
I lost the idea of perfection while you were living
In sin; the darkness led you to self-destruction; now, ignorant
While living in anger and passion, you need His forgiving.



(Carla continued,)



Being like Bella, I have chosen the human sacrifice.''
''This perfectionism is an illusion and, in reality,
We die all; we are all sinners to give up the paradise.
On Earth, to find the original perfection is a fantasy.



(Pedro continued,)



We can't be rescued. I prefer the peace of my mind
To this fight for salvation; I prefer an ephemeral,
Pleasant life instead of it; '' I understand that you're still blind.
That's why I have a deep relationship with Christ, in general.



(Carla continued,)



I'm forced to accompany you in an aimless journey-
A vagrancy; you forced me to accept this new reality
That would change my destiny; the devil is your attorney.''
'' A need for a sinful freedom lies in your normality.



(Pedro continued,)



You end up ignoring the devil in front of death.
Don't forget that you stay in a haunted house; '' ''I'm searching
For some viable solutions and for the heaven's breath.''
To be a mother is a reality; I'm fighting



(Carla continued,)



To save my family; '' ''your moral awareness leads
To unhappiness and anger; '' ''you provoke me to fight
To keep you while using sarcasm to banish all my needs.''
''This method keeps my rivals at bay; '' '' you insult me despite


(Carla continued,)



My faithfulness; you use this jealousy to make me love you
Unconditionally; '' '' Christianity can't bring the man
To the initial Eden; so, love me as I am, though
I'm not your Adam, Eve! '' ''Pedro, I am your woman! ''



(He embraced her and started to make love with her after so many years.)


(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Carla Simmons is gonna be a freshman at Bates Academy in two weeks. She was born in Nebraska and lived there until about two months into summer break. She and her family moved there when her parents were offered jobs to be agents for the Teens Acting Agency. Her parents learned how to be agents after about three years of college in Boston before moving to Nebraska shortly after having her older sister, Maddie. Her sister is now a freshman at LA Acting Academy in Los Angeles, California. Carla only lives about an hour and forty-five minutes away. But she still misses her sister as if she were on the other side of the world. Maddie was the only one who understood her and now she wasn’t gonna be there. But Maddie said that as soon as Carla needed her she’d be there in an instant. Her sister has a car and says that as long as she has a way to get there, she will. Carla is really nervous because no one in this town knows anything about her. No one except for her new teachers and the people where her parents work. Carla is so nervous because she knows that she has something that might get her either laughed or stared at if it happens at school. Her parents try to tell her that other kids do it every now and then. But Carla is still worried because she can’t control it. At any moment, even if she had the best night sleep in the world. No matter how early she goes to bed and how late she gets up in the morning. She is always so tired that she will fall asleep anytime at anyplace. It happens every day and there’s nothing she can do about it. Well, she could talk medicine to help with it. But she says that she doesn't think it would do any good. So she just decides to let it be. So now she has to go to school and hope that nothing happens. How will her life turn out? Read the California Life of Carla Simmons and find out.

Situated in the green Corfu and having thousands
Of olive trees and flower-strewn countryside, Prinylas is
A nice, Adriatic-style village; its square and narrow paths,
Mansions and alleys are far away from the rifle bullets' ****.


Its wealthy inhabitants had built it in a picturesque
Position at an altitude of two hundred and seventy
Meters above the cove of Agios Georgios, but picaresque
Adventures happened there; even so, the people have steadily



Prospered from one thousand and two hundred A.C. when
'Twas a Byzantine seat; in the Agios Nikolaos church,
People had the same name; they were regarded as of the same kin.
Fargo bought a Venetian house after a quick search.



'Twas situated on a panoramic hill; Geraldine
Was in front of the house and looked at the landscape of olive
And citrus groves; she told Carla, '' astonishing view! '' „Divine, ''
Carla replied, ''Did you hear some sounds last night? '' ''It's hard to live


In a new place, '' replied Geraldine, '' It was like someone
Was walking in the house.'' 'Do you think they've found us? '' „I don't know.
Let's search together. If someone was here, he was alone.''
Fargo said, '' I must be in Corfu Town in two hours. Let's go



To buy a horse; we must move quickly; any lost minute
Means losing a life on the ship; I know them very well.''
''Don't force your horse to run too fast, '' he said, „I know its limit.''
They followed the winding road to the ringing church bell



And to a cobbled street; down from the hill, some stone–built houses
Were arranged in a wide arc around the small valley.
Immediately after that, they entered the square; the horses
Were beautiful; the women cut through a new alley,



To go to the church; he started to negotiate a horse
''Look at that mansion, '' said Carla, 'it's enclosed in carved stone walls.''
A short winding hillside track took them to the Lord's House.
Geraldine said, ''I'm Muslim, ' ' Bewildering are the God's calls, ''



Carla continued, 'I'm catholic', „like Frederick, '
Said Geraldine, 'look, it is written-Agios Nikolaos, ''
While entering, she used a face cover for her mouth and cheeks.
„It’s the name of the Saint Nicholas; is this marble? ' To rouse



Some Christian feelings in Geraldine, Carla made an effort.
'It's constructed in the 14th century- a Holy jewel.''
''Do you want to buy this horse or not? '' said the merchant. „What sort
Is this horse? '' '' An Arabian one- look at him, he’s not a fool.'




''I want to be sure that this one fits my personality.
What is his average speed? '' ''It can run eight miles per hour.''
'' I buy him, '' he told Carla, ''let's go to our new reality.'
Fargo left the village; Geraldine said, '' he has power.''



(Fargo took the money, the precious stones, and the documents. He went to Corfu Town. Geraldine and Carla returned their new temporary home.)



They lived in a two-story house having eighty meters
Of stone walls; the former owner used it to store his olive
Oil; it had not been inhabited for ten months; wood heaters
Guarded the entrance leading to the ground floor- a space to live.




In a corner, it was a rest of oil equipment.
The entry had two transition points at the openings to
The hallways. Carla said, „stone and wood- it's all so different, ''
''The stone colors pick up the tones in the wood to make these two



Materials look good, '' said Erica; at the ground floor
They saw two halls, a dining room, a living room having
A seating with red cushions, the stairs, and the terrace's door.
Maya called them from the upper floor having an entrance facing



West; from there, they could see the view of the street; this floor
Consisted of ten bedrooms, two wood stoves, two indoor stoves,
A kitchen, and storage rooms; Geraldine said, ''Before
Eating, let's drink tea, '' ''A neighbor told me that this house



Is a haunted one and this is why the owner sold it, '
Said Erica, 'These ghosts can affect anybody in
Prinylas, ' said Maya, ' you can't convince them the house to quit.
People practice exorcism here.' „Look at that place we have been! ''


(Carla turned the index finger of her right hand towards the window overlooking the sea.)

(To be continued...)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

(Chiara and Geraldine were on the deck. Chiara started to talk with Geraldine.)

''I need to understand my life when I look back and see
That happiness is my reason to push some things far away
This ship is like a small Eden balancing on the sea.
When I lose hope, I hope that it will come back another day.''

''God is above all and when the waters are quite blue
He sends the sun to shine at the end of every storm.
I'm far from home, but there's nothing in my life I wouldn't do.''
The crests had a glassy aspect and some clouds started to form.

In the Ottoman Empire, Athens was a run-down village
The Ottoman landlord made the free Greek peasant serfdom.
To live near the Acropolis, he lost the privilege.
In Piraeus, the wind was like a harp blown at random.

Miguel was walking on deck wanting Pedro to meet
To propose him to go to visit the Acropolis,
Then, to eat fresh fish and to exercise their dancing feet.
He thought that ship looked like a sailing necropolis.


The Parthenon on the Acropolis in Athens
Was amazing, although the flourish in Athens became,
During the Ottoman Empire, something should never happen.
But in terms of philosophy, it didn't lose its fame.

Carla was bathing in her cabin and asked the maid to bring
A *** of boiling water from the kitchen because
The water cooled down. When she exited, the door started to ding.
Maybe the maid was in haste or it was a hidden cause.

Passing by, Miguel saw Carla exiting the bathroom.
When he saw her silhouette through the diaphanous air
Against the flames' glow, something magical happened to him.
He looked at her, and then he sensed the true depths of his despair.

He admired her neck and the outline of her body
And the flawless perfection of her skin; he went away,
When he heard the maid's steps; Carla's ******* were pure and soggy,
And she moved her arms and legs as she did ballet.


(After a while, he returned to walk around. After she had finished her bath, Carla opened the window to allow the fresh air to enter the room. Carla saw Miguel standing on the deck. He turned to her and said, ‘’Hello! ’’)

Carla asked, ''Is this evening a future starry night or not? ''
''So starry-eyed, my love for you is nothing but a shine.
And, in my dreams, you come to love me much more than a lot.
I close my eyes to feel your love and you're almost divine.''

(Carla told him she did not know this poem. He said that this poem was just composed by him. Then, he invited her to come together with Pedro to visit the Acropolis.)

Carla, after exiting the Periclean Parthenon,
Tripped on the Karrha limestone step and almost fell when Miguel
Helped her up while embracing her, ''It's a phenomenon.''
He put his ear over her heart, '' I hear a fast tinkling bell.''



Behind them, Bella and Pedro were talking about physique.
She said that she couldn't get pregnant, so they traveled to
India, a treatment through yoga and herbs to seek.
''Miguel suffers! '' 'It's important to make your own dreams come true.''

(To be continued...)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Carla said we must talk about love.
If it doesn’t define, it doesn’t exist, she said,
And pulled the two nearest stools away from the bar.

Has anyone you have ever known- anyone-
Ever offered you even a pitiful explanation
Of this bewildering word
She asked me,
In that way she has
Of not asking me at all.

She lit her pipe,
Her first exhale a ceremonial cloud,
A white tobacco fog,
A linger that purchased my childhood memories,
The pungency of three fingers of scotch, neat, at dawn,
The south face picture window ablaze with
The painful flood of an early sun,
A tin can stereo in full lament about cowboy love
And the inevitability of betrayal,
My father off key,
All his memories a libel and a calumny.

If I say I lust for you, you know what I mean, Carla said,
If I question your loyalty there is no obfuscation,
If I tell you in my sleepy voice the wine is delicious,
You are tempted to sample,
But if a man tells a woman he loves her
What conclusions will she abide,
Carla asked me with a stare.

Do you even know anyone who can utter the words I love you,
Without feelings of hysteria, near mental collapse,
Or worse-farce, she asked.

We tell people we love them to calm them,
To manipulate them,
To play magic tricks on them, Carla said,  
Love is an adolescent stage,
A toxic teenage mix and of oestrogen and testosterone,
Romeo and Juliet were children for ***** sakes, Carla said,  
As she drank half of her breakfast scotch,
And began to blow perfect smoke rings
In the mirror still stale air
Of the Rock Hen all day, all night, all the time bar.

I just know I love my dog, I replied,
And I held my finger up,
To see if Carla could circle it perfectly with a smoke ring,
Which she did.

And I don’t even know why, I said,
I guess I love how he needs me and doesn’t resent it,
Even as I disappoint him and neglect him,
Forget to feed him, force him to *** in the rain,
He still wags his appreciation with gusto.

Perhaps we can only love our dogs,
Carla replied,
Or perhaps we should all have tails,
And she ordered us lemonade and tequila
With scrambled eggs, french toast and a *** of blueberries.

(Carla continued to talk with Pedro in their bedroom. Carla said,)



''I thought that our communion will change me in better, ''
''What changes can you make in your thoughts and actions? This subject Sickens me, '' ''Beatrice is like you and I'm gonna let her
Marry you; I intend to divorce; I feel like a reject.




(Carla continued,)



It's wise to end our loveless marriage, '' '' our home will change because
You choose to change it; you have a kind of self-confidence,
Which is not good while I feel your strong attraction to me,
And your possessiveness hurts me; do you see the consequence? ''



(Concluded Pedro. She replied,)



''Sometimes, you're too passive and melancholic, '' ''I'm depressed.
You created an air of mystery; you keep your secrets
Bottled up inside and hidden from me; '' ''I do my best.''
''You don't take responsibility though you have regrets.



(Pedro continued,)



You are patient, and you take yourself too seriously.''
''The first thing Beatrice wanted to do was to make
Our tension go along with our life; she loves you dangerously.
I had to overcome the conflicts hoping that you would awake.



(Carla continued,)



I did all my best while trying to balance everything
We've got to live a happy family life, '' ''you cannot
Maintain your emotional balance, '' '' well, love is all or nothing.''
To achieve stability, in all your charm I have been caught, ’’



(Pedro replied. Carla said,)



''The woman must have equal chances as the man has
To communicate with God; much more, she needs some education
To understand the experience of her man, whereas
The man must understand his wife; '' '' you dance over separation.


(Pedro continued,)



The result is a lack of harmony in our relationship
Affecting our communication and leading to this
Moral misery; I could see what happened on the ship
Between you and Miguel, '' ''what happened? '' '' Does he know how to kiss? ''



(Carla replied,)



''Bella's relationship with God was too intimate and quite
Strange motivating Miguel to have platonic relationships
With other women.'' He smiled, '' you're unfit to be his mate.
Bella was a decent wife not needing lovers on the ships.



(Pedro continued,)



The bride of Christ is a believer of the Christian Church.
Miguel suffered because she couldn't give birth to another
Child; he's your victim, and you must be ashamed at the smirch
Of flirting with other men in front of me; you're a mother!



(Pedro continued,)



She advised me to stop being ignorant, but I've told her that
For me, it was very important to make my personal
Dreams come true; '' '' those cures weakened her to fall down like a brat.''
''While playing the violin, she felt so emotional.''



(Carla replied,)


''Her arms were sensitized, and she felt the deep touch
Of the Medusa while being scared because she couldn't swim.''
''They didn't feel the danger though they loved each other so much, ''
''Maybe she wanted her own death, '' ''she was so graceful and slim.''

(...to be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

(The Governor has obtained the approval from England to allow Ivan to bring officially the gold to the Russian nun. Pedro and Carla started to talk in their bedroom.)

(Pedro said,)



''Your concern for life and health means more than the pleasure to have
Expensive jewelry; '' ''Can you explain the new conclusion
About our family future to me? '' '' Well, when glaciers calve,
They become slowly icebergs- nothing else but pure delusion.



(Pedro continued,)



Beatrice knows me better than you; with you I live
A lifetime of conservative thinking; '' ''make me understand
Your relationship with her, when you love and forgive.
Being catholic, you must give up your sins, at the Lord's Command.’’



(...said Carla. Pedro was seemingly not listening to her. He said,)



''I've visited New Spain to understand its reality.
I get back home to make the change; '' ''It seems that the Indian
People have changed your thinking; I predict a fatality.
It's just a different culture to be trapped in our oblivion.''




(Pedro said,)




''Life, in its essence, is guided by the same principles.''
''You could learn from the Turks as well as you have learned from
The Indians to keep your thinking invincible
At least, the Turks are civilized; I think their time will come.''




(Pedro replied,)



''The civilization is created; the Indians keep
Their unspoiled ideas far away from the vices of
The society; Turks always need their wonders on the deep
And some unique ideas coming from above



(Pedro continued,)




To change something in the evolutionary sense.
Though you have been in New Spain you couldn't concretely
Differentiate the old world from the new world and, thence
You couldn't understand Geraldine's origin; discretely




(Pedro continued,)




You cannot understand the fundamental meaning
Of the life change; this is the cause of our separation.
''I feel abandoned in our family; while educating
Our children you leave them to come back with a new conception.



(Carla continued,)




You're an individualist to fight against me; your fight
Is fierce and I feel like I'm thwarted and defeated
Until losing balance, until the devils mock my sight,
And until I can no longer resist while I need to be needed.




(Carla continued,)




That's why I got sick; '' '' Beatrice is, in fact, my life partner,
But I have to divide my time between her and our children.
It seems that my responsibility as a father
Made me turn back home and visit New Spain, which is bewildering.''




(Replied Pedro. Carla stopped talking for a few minutes, then she continued,)




''Bella said that no one can separate that oath that was made
In the Church and reinforced by a lifelong contract.
Miguel said that the marriage purpose is to get the highest grade
Of awareness to infer the consciousness abstract




(Carla continued,)




Meaning and to have a high moral identity.
The evolution of the moral conscience leads to developing
The moral identity, but we may call it, for brevity,
A concept of consciousness in the communion of feelings.’’



(Pedro said,)



''It seems that we have passed this moment, and therefore I want
To change, but in a different way from Descartes, who tried
To reconcile, using a dualistic way to get in sync,
The idealism with the materialism when they collide.



(Pedro continued,)




You have a dual concept of love and an internal
Contradiction between the spiritual love and the body
Sensibility; the pulse of your thinking depends on
Your soul moods; it should be vice versa; you love nobody.''



(...to be continued...)



Poem by Marieta Maglas

Carla ran away,
When I was ten.
She ran away
And nobody went after her.

She took her things -
her toys, her panda,
And she left, on the street,
she said, "To seek a better life."

But I thought that I was a good brother.
And I thought that she still loved me.
And I loved my sister,
So I went after her.

I told my mom, "Let's go after her."
But she said "Carla will come back."
I was afraid
That something might happen before then.

When Carla ran away,
I was alone then
And I was scared then
And then I realized:

Just because I am
the Older Brother,
It doesn't mean that I don't need
Somebody to take care of me.

Carla said I should furl my anxiety,
Ravel it up in a ball without conviction, she said,
Your curses can’t be creased and folded flat,
Like a dress shirt with pearl buttons and a fancy tie.
Jesus no, she said,
Stuff everything you feel into your closet
Pile it on top of your worn out shoes,
Your forgotten purchases,
And your frightening memories of your mother.

Your weakest link is concern, Carla said,
And your colossal waste of worry,
My god, you are mesmerized by outcomes,
Your pretense that life is a chess game
Is beneath insult,
Do you really think you can see three moves ahead?
There is no tidy way, she said,
To make amends with yourself,
You have dissected your life into an unfathomable mess,
The best you can do now,
Is pause…
Perhaps for a day, maybe two.

As usual I had no idea what Carla was talking about.
At least on the first go round.

I want you to walk among us
And read the story of the world, Carla said,
Humanity is desperately trying to tell you something,
Every public word, every sign, every misspelled message has meaning,
Be brave enough to stop and read things twice.

And so I went out to read the words of the world.
Words that whip and whirl around me every day.

My jam, blueberry as I recall, told me it was pure,
On every packet as bold as a White House lie.

My mechanic informed me,
He has a licensed inspection facility.
In that case, I told him
I want my government inspected
For flaws and lies and hate and deception
And of course check the tire pressure all the way round.

My gym informed me, it boldly declared
That I can burn calories,
Up to 36 hours
Post workout.
I want to burn effigies and look alike dolls
And smash the man in the face with a shovel.

My bank, the callous *****, the *****, the stain,
Told me, The more we get together, the happier we are.
And I want to get together in a march of a million angry men,
Determined to set things right, to hang the traitors,
At least by their ankles and pelt them with marshmallows,
And then smash them all in the face with a shovel.

Starbucks holds still like a library with no bound books,
The staff cling to their smiles as if they were butterflies
About to catch the next breeze and flutter away,
But their sign made my day.
Grab something good it said,
And I thought they meant an idea,
A value,
A concept,
A plan,
A truth,
But perhaps they just meant a *****
How sick and sad and stupid and insipid,
He is a monster

There were many more signs, persuasion everywhere,
Offers for my hair, my pain,
My new home complete with its own memory,
A boxing class for girls only, which seemed a bit off,
Don’t women have to learn
How to smash a man in the face with a shovel,
Why box with girls when it’s the hands and eyes,
And sniffy nose of a man that needs to be smashed flat.


Carla told me, over a glass of scotch, neat,
And a mountain man cigar,
That the world is wilting and the signs are everywhere.
Beware this one she said, he has the mind of child,
The temperament of a rabid dog
And the IQ of a Q-tip.
Yes, that’s what he thinks IQ  means, Carla said,
And downed her scotch with a frown.

(Arturo, Lucca, Miguel, Frederick, Marco, Cruz, Pedro and Ivan were playing cards and chess. Lucca, Cruz and Miguel started to smoke clay pipes.)

''Nice angled bowl with a coat of arms, '' said Lucca. ''Yes, '' said Cruz
While smoking and relaxing, ''where did you buy them, Lucca? ''
''This one is made in Holland- a way to liberate your muse.''
''Give new life to a broken heart, '' said Miguel, '' It's like scuba, ''

Laughed Lucca, '' Ivan, how could you avoid the army as a serf? ''
''As a yeoman having my own land, I had an accident.''
Cruz asked him, ’’Did you receive some support from a dwarf? ''
''I broke my left leg when I fell from my horse- a strange event.''

''Interesting! '' said Marco. ''You became a rich merchant
In the Ottoman Empire.'' ''Yes, I sold my land, '' smiled Ivan.
''You could go to Moscow, '' ''I didn't want to be a servant.''
'' I was a middleman in the fur trade, '' ''Let's enliven

This game with some wine! '' '' These cards are unique, '' said Pedro.
''This rare pictorial pack is made in London, '' said Marco.
Marco told Cruz, ''If you need new cards, I'll give you pronto.''
''Give me the most immoral hand, '' laughed Cruz, ''come in, Fargo! ''

(Fargo entered to bring the wine, which was served using glasses. Ibrahim brought dried fruits, nuts, biscuits and small cakes. The women had spent over an hour dressing for this meeting because it was customary for women to change their entire outfit for any event on the ship. Rosa, Geraldine and Erica were doing some needlework. Carla, Chiara and Pedra were reading some expensive books. Chiara chose to read a book written by Elena Piscopia, Carla was reading some philosophy by Mary Astell and Pedra liked the books written by Aphra Behn. Francesca started to paint and Bella was trying to play ‘’Capriccio stravagante’’ by the Italian composer Carlo Farina using a violin.)

Francesca said, '' The violin replaced the viol, ''
''The music written for it established its identity, ''
Said Rosa, ''I like the opera 'L'Orfeo' and its tale.''
''Through polyphony, Monteverdi has supremacy.''


Francesca continued, ''Chiara, what are you reading? ''
''A book about Christ written by the monk Laspergio and late
Translated by Elena Piscopia, a nun being
The first woman that graduated with a doctorate.''


Carla said, ''Francesca, what are you painting in that blue? ''
'' I'm not Caravaggio, still I paint a medusa.''
Carla replied, ''You used amazing hues, and it's sweet in view! ''
Chiara said, ''It's an image of the port of Siracusa! ''

(Francesca embraced Chiara.)

‘’ ''It's so lovely to see you together; you are good friends, ''
Said Geraldine while finishing her work, ''do you have children? ''
''I've married Arturo six years ago and our love ascends
After his long widowhood; Francesca is his daughter.''

Chiara took Geraldine's hand with a noble gesture
She told her that Arturo lost a fortune three months ago,
And this trip was offered by Lucca to change their life's texture.
''Maybe Francesca painted to petrify the time's flow.''

''Francesca is the sweetest child I've ever seen until now.
She's adorable in this purity of her mind.
She's shining like a star belonging to Ursa Major Plough,
And I love Arturo even in affairs he is so blind.''

(Arturo and Marco were the last passengers who left the room while talking. Arturo ended the conversation.)
‘’ Russia is a force needing an expansion quite quickly
But, unfortunately, her friends are not really her friends.
Pushing Russia, who is an honest power, clearly
Will turn the destiny of the whole world into dead ends.’’

(to be continued.....)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

(Carla and Miguel were talking while walking on the deck.)

Carla said, '' his infidelity devastated me.
The worse thing that could happen has already occurred.
''Is there a time for you in his life? '' '' 'Twas never meant to be.''
Miguel said, ‘‘you should ask him perfection.'' ''He said I'm absurd.

Every time he left the house I was wondering to know
Where he was going.'' '' He couldn't drive in two lanes at once.''
'' He was intimate with her; I've heard and I felt it so.''
'' He tried to deal with feelings in the darkness like a dunce.

He had absolutely no respect for his own marriage.''
'' To save my family was quite a humiliating
Decision.'' ''It was love, which he tended to discourage.''
''Are you faithful? '' ''Yes, I am. It's an asphyxiating

Situation, sometimes, but the life must go on; we face it.
I had some dalliances, which were platonic lunch dates
With beautiful and thinking women for the well of wit.
I've found my fidelity borders while meeting my mates.''


''Were you sure you weren’t an adulterer-in-waiting?
You risked betraying the commitment to be faithful to God.''
''God didn't give my wife a child; I think He heard her praying.''
'' The slushy infidelity comes when the thoughts go abroad.


As an event of the heart; I didn't trust Pedro again.''
'' You must be trustworthy although you fall toward resentment
For Pedro. Be faithful to God! You know it's not in vain.''
„I felt rejected.'' '' As me, you could betray this commitment.


Our thoughts can undermine those covenants we've made in the church.''
''Any marital crisis can bring out the worst in us.''
''God has a family plan; He doesn't leave us in the lurch.''
''There is the suffering of children I don't want to discuss.''


'' Maybe recalling the early good days can construct
An explanation of what happened.'' ''It's about perfection.''
'' While living without His divine grace, people self-destruct.''
'' Pedro is unhappy while living in anger, and passion.''


„Bella wants quietness in a closed relationship with God.''
'' We must be sinless and pure to reach the perfection.''
'' She's pleasing to God while causing my grief; she's totally flawed.
Her body's sacrifice leads me to a wrong direction.''

'' Making mistakes leads people to fall and to rule over sin.
They think that they are redeemed from all iniquity,
But they are wrong until their hearts are purified within
To listen for God's voice talking about dignity.''

(Carla stopped to look for a few seconds into his eyes. She understood the cause of her sufferance.)

''God told Abram to walk before Him and to be perfect, ''
Said Miguel. ''It's important to **** the vice in the members.''
'' The imperfect people like complete; they vigor to defend.''
''Pedro thinks our perfection ends in the fire's embers-

Call me when you may be perfect and complete in the God's will-
He uses to say.'' ''Tell him how to realize repentance.''
''He pretends it cannot overcome the sins; they always ****.''
'' This repentance wins when we do it with persistence.''

'' He denies this freedom from sin as a possibility
To live on Earth; when we think we have no sin, we deceive
Ourselves.'' ''The conscience is the heart of responsibility.''
''There is a perfect Adam above the head of Eve.''

(While hearing a strange noise, they were frightened. They turned to see tongues of flame coming from the kitchen. Fargo came in haste to invite Carla to get into the boat and to go on together with him to the shore. Carla saw the women coming closer to that boat. Miguel helped her while Fargo helped Geraldine escape. The men approached the fire to begin fighting it.)

(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Carla kept nudging me to learn Italian.
It is the language of lovers and liars she said, life’s two best friends,
Discipline yourself, it will teach you to sing, she offered,
Each phrase a lyric, a seduction,
It will give you an unfair advantage over younger men, she promised,
Tickle her ear with this tongue and she will shiver and unfold,
Her heart, her knees unlocked.

Italian is a calculate of rhythm, Carla suggested,
Every woman understands timing and phase,
Our life is nothing but cycles for god’s sakes,
How have you not understood this?

It is the lingua of fair play, she continued, each syllable an equal citizen,
A dialect with an innate sense of justice,
Women are as intrigued by its possibilities,
As they are by threat and danger,
Either of which you can no longer promise.

Tell a woman you love her in Italian,
Ti amo più respiro, I love you more than breath,
And her ******* will disappear,
She won’t be able to take her eyes off your lips,
And as we all know, your mouth is your hook,
Your irresistible smile, the pout, the persuasion.

You are a poet, a miracle I know,
Your words are narcotic when you put your mind to it,
I’ve heard you quell an unruly crowd;
Your resonant tone could soothe a pack of ravenous jackals.

But with that intricate face of yours,
Your accumulating age, the leather wrinkles,
Believe me, you will soon need to help to ****** even a photograph.
Enlist, become Italian, Carla told me, it is your only hope,
And she tossed the last of her wine onto the sand,
Watched the red stain saturate and fade,
And lay back to face the sun.

now i know why i might engage with writing obscene
poems, chauvinism included, but still there
is no burning excuse in my mind with the way
western society actively desires censorship of certain
words, i already attributed censoring obscene
words as worse than what this tactic precipitates into:
the apathetic spread of *******, and violence
in general... it crosses my mind that sparring with violent
language cushions people from violet action...
to utilise violent language with that: pardon my French
attitude does more good than evil on the users...
how many road rage incidents could have been avoided
if people were unable to watch their tongue:
somehow we're making language sterile, by actively
pursuing this sort of censorship: which is not even
remotely politically related / motivated, we're bringing
an anaemic status quo in how fluidly we speak -
we desire to not hear the sometimes funny and the sometimes
awful... but we choose to see the god-fearing horrific...
ask any blind-man about music and he'd say:
well, i can dance to it in a nucleus position, centrally
gravitational pull - but ask the deaf man about
what he has to say when seeing **** written to counter
obscenity, as in cartoon-like: f&%£! it's just plain silly,
pocket-sized expression of psychotic behaviours,
rummaging through them i find only one source of inspiration:
the fact that we're in this blind-man's garden of innocence,
somehow dressed in the camouflage of censorship such
a tiny problem, that it does indeed require 23 mattresses
for the princess to not feel the frozen *** agitating her...
this sort of censorship in its application is under
a false sense of purpose, it really doesn't change people's
behaviour for the better, it doesn't pacify them, in does
the reverse: it infuriates, it makes violence more potent...
i'm still trying to figure out why such words
will make our perceptions saintly... unless of course
that's the reason behind them, as way of invoking an
anaesthetic placebo, a placebo that's actually active rather
than passive - presuming the anaesthetic placebo gives
way to an aesthetic active apathy-inducing ingredient...
meaning we can't bare to hear swear words, but we can
gladly watch 20 hours of 20 : 1 ****... censoring **** ****
**** **** will not escape Newtonian physics...
given our current scenario, Newtonian physics is far
more important than Einstein's relativity, i'd hate to be
in denial about cause & effect... as began with Socrates,
i too abhor moral relativism... of course Newton got
the gravity bit wrong, but i like the simpler version...
plus... there was no Romance with Einstein...
no apple, no tree, no Voltaire... meaning we don't necessarily
write history collectively, with all of us starting from
the big bang or the view from the Galapagos islands...
we don't... we continue writing history not from a
collective consciousness genesis... or from the collective
unconscious genesis - that's Jung with his archetypes
(devil, god, wise man, mother, father etc.) rather than
dreams (Freud) - we can chose were to write the future...
it's not so much ignorance as arm-chair intellectualism,
it's not about the safety of understanding something,
but the comfort of choosing to understand something...
which is pretty much to my excuse for my previous poems...
Heidegger... and that concept of Dasein -
i never bothered to understand it to the point of
reacting subjectively to it, by that i mean an interest
in writing about it, an interpolation of the subject with
alternative variations... i objectified it, i also countered it
when objectifying the concept turned out to be an
everyday object, shortening my quest.
the counter? hiersein, i.e. being here, here denoting a
solipsistic classification of awareness with / in the world -
which is basically me in my room, admiring my library,
my record collection, my torn sneakers, everything that
is classified exclusive to what dasein evolves into
when all its grammatical weaving only express a verb,
i.e. concern... so i thought, given this what can hiersein
(being here / nonchalance) actually show me as
my lack of interest in: "changing the world".
it became obvious yesterday, i had a hard time when i
didn't read the day's copy of the times (more on this later),
instead i had to suffice with construction site media,
you might have heard of this newspaper: the daily star,
at 20 pence a pop, you will see what £1.20 makes to
your psyche... but that's basically it, i objectified Heidegger's
concept and made it into an everyday object, in this
case and as the only case available: a newspaper -
and the trick is? well, with a newspaper like daily star
you don't actually experience dasein - it's completely
missing in this style of media, and that's worrying given
my barbaric poetry of yesterday... it's missing, not there,
such object-for-object chirality is what gives birth to
hiersein (being here); but today i returned to my usual
media diet, a flicked through the times and the natural
balance of personal objects and a fresh impersonal object
coexisted - the newspaper is truly the most adequate
compounded expression of Heidegger's dasein -
which i attribute to the constant need to emphasise an
empathy with others... empathising is a neutral form
of sympathising, since sympathy is sourced in shared
experiences: **** victims (e.g.) - therefore empathy is
something that in the ontological structuring of dasein,
which opposes the ontological structuring of hiersein,
which is structured by apathy; there is nothing else for
me to write, apart from the compendium proof
of the disparity of sources, i.e. headlines and subheadings:

- prior compendium -

i will never understand the point of autobiographies,
the majority of autobiographies are written
on a p.s. basis, after the facts / actions,
never immediately, concerning ideas /
solidified thoughts, thoughts condensed into idea
that allow thinking / cognitive narration to
continue regardless with what's being achieved...
i haven't anything autobiographical dissimilar
with something biographical...
Plato wrote that wonderful biography like
Shakespearean theatre, but i guess his critics felt
the claustrophobic tug & pull of mermaids...
still the problem ascends heights unparalleled -
even with ghost writers doing the leg-work...
cheap-buggers never learned to write, let alone read,
and here they are writing biographies...
ah, **** it... they're only sketches... whether biographic
or autobiographic... they're still mere sketches...
if this was the art world the revenue would come
posthumously, when it comes to literacy
nothing really distinguishes poets from
those prescribing pedestrian signs...
the Olympians can moan at the vacant stadium...
that there's a hierarchy in sports,
with the favoured monochrome idealisation
of where the bunny money is in the whirlpool
of the rabbit hole investment: football, volleyball...
but the literary events are the same...
people love to lie that they read the bestseller to
its full extent... but treat books like chairs and tables...
inertia prone half finished, sat on for 2 weeks of
the entire year... the Olympians are very much
like poets, and i care to distance myself from either
demand for more interest being invoked...
i like esoteric sports, i like esoteric writing...
but that's how it stand: poets are Olympians where
novelists are footballers, who retire at 30 and
then think about what to do with their wages
that are 10x higher than the everyday labourer...
start a restaurant, buy a strip of houses in Liverpool
like Michael Owen? good guess, here's to exploiting
youth disgracefully... that's what they're getting,
and these are the dilemma points to consider...
they're the equivalent gladiators of our time,
Rome was just a sleeper before it awoke once more...
but i'll never understand why these
people decided to exploit literature for gain...
all these academics with their pristine purity of discovery
are pacified when dictating print,
what poet, has a chance in hell, to appear gladly
excavated from Plato's cave of television?
about none.
i too was focusing on 20th century literature,
before 21st literature came about...
and i thought, oh god: they're really going to create
a totalitarian democracy, every artist will be
strip-searched for adding cinnamon and chilli to their
writing to bounce away from conformist
sober and sane extraction of alter wordings...
this 21st scene will become polarised...
we'll have the extinction of One Direction over a joint,
while the Rolling Stones drank a keg of whiskey
and pulled off a show... we'll have moralisation
of the fans to subdue the artists, which will mean
no artist will ably create a zeitgeist to rebel... everyone
will suddenly experience a weird sort of communism...
the worst kind... it will mean having
all the mental freedoms without the ability to
economise a coup... basically an inertia, an immediate
fatality... we can't economise a coup...
which boils down to why so many autobiographies
aren't really biographic, but rather consolidating,
by the meaning: autobiographic i intended to relate
the everyday... the most secretive account of life:
the everyday... this is stressing Proust,
even though i preferred Joyce over Proust i keep
the everyday the prime ideal: the only detail,
so that an autobiography can make sense,
automation of writing, like breathing or sneezing...
not some monetary-spinning device 20 years after
the facts... 20 years later you're pretty much writing
fiction... i am all for the biosphere of expanding
Alveoli... but when did you ever read an autobiography
that mentioned the taste of weak coffee
from the Friday of 20th of August 2016? never;
you read autobiographies
like you read self-help books...  waiting for
all that experience regurgitating motivational talk
about reaching a plateau of comparative success...
i can understand autobiographies written by the elders,
i understand biographies written about people
posthumously - but the tragedy is, given the spinning
wheel of money? we're getting "auto" biographies
written toward their 3rd volume renditions of
people aged 30... let alone 40... so much for
western society having the upper hand on political matters...
just saying: sort your own **** before trying
to sort other people's problems...
i could understand if these autobiographies were written
as described: automaton solo... but they're not...
before the compendium it's this everlasting presence
of a desired body of power being depicted:
prior the monopoly of knowledge, there was a monopoly
of literacy... given that 99% of us are literate, it
actually doesn't mean a third donkey's *******
whether we can read, or write, we got shelved in controlling
this once priestly vanity, we got taught bureaucracy alongside...
but the monopoly of literacy is way past us,
we're being convened in the ability to monopolise knowledge,
(oh please, don't let the paranoia seep in,
remember yourself when reading me, once in a while,
i don't drag you to phantasmagorical heights, even if i could,
i'd prefer you being agile in learning how to be bored
than letting your repel the same boredom i too share,
well... but **** me if you want to be the next Lenin) -
and the easiest way to monopolise knowledge? the media...
you basically need a lot of facts, and an evolved version
of dialectics, dialectics being the prime enemy of democracy
(it's not an alternative political model like despotism as
we are held to believe, it's actually dialectics,
suppressing other forms of collectivisation is the one
sure method of suppressing the attempt at dialectics
(individualism) - by making people overly opinionated,
ergo: the inability to engage with opinions, blind-alleys
throughout all plausible attempts to do so) -
so once you have enough facts to fiddle with the Rubik's cube
of juxtaposition, you end up with the ultra-scientific
form of dialectics... the matter of opinion in relation
to truth without a relative uniformity that prescribes
the status quo stasis is a debate about how accurate
we all are: i.e., is that true to the closest centimetre,
or the closest millimetre? it's a bit like watching a Zeno
paradox:
                 10.1                           and 10.01
      which one's tortoise and which is Achilles?
well, you know; ah ****! the compendium of the two
newspapers which got me slightly depressed...

- the compendium -

a. daily star

- B. BRO SAM'S SECRET 'NERVOUS BREAKDOWN'
- Laura & Jason's baby joy
- Robbie (Williams) £1.6M a night!
- BREXIT BOOST ON JOB FRONT
- ANGE DAD BACKS TRUMP
- JR'S wife Linda set to Holly
- Edd's no Beverly Hills flop
(Lana among cow *******)
- LAURA: OUR TINY TROTTS WILL BE WORLD-BEATERS
- FURY AT BAD LOSERS' SLURS
- 'Jealous sis' jibes
- MAKE YOUR KID AN OLYMPICS ACE
- Peaty: I want to be a rapper
- TV girl really ill
- **** SAM, 'ON THE BRINK OF BREAKDOWN'
- COSTA ***** HELL
- CAGING ANJEM WILL INSPIRE NEW JIHADIS
- POG'S LOADED AGENT BUYS CAPONE'S LAIR
- I'll make Kylie a pop star
- JEZ DOESN'T KNOW ANT FROM HIS DEC
- GUILTY OF DEMONIC SAVAGERY
- Great British Rake In
- Britain is *******
- BAYWATCH U.K.
- Va Va Vroom
- JUST JANE: My lover snubs plea to get wed
- HART: I'LL DECIDE WHEN TO GO.

b. the times

- Boy victim becomes a symbol of Assad's war
- US Olympics swimmers invented robbery tale, say Rio police
- Make us sell healthy food, supermarkets implore May (P.M.)
- Lost weekend of the lying best man
- fears over free speech delay law to silence hate preacher
- Met's 'commuter cops' live in France
- Husbands happiest when they earn half as much as wives
- Socialists plot to drive Britain left
- Fake human sacrifice filmed at European high altar of physics
- Officers investigated over ex-footballer's Taser death
- Number of pupils taking languages at record low
   (Mandarin @ 2,849 - % decrease of 8.1,
    alarmingly religious studies 27,032 up by 4.9%
    and psychology of status 59,469 up by 4.3%....
    meaning the mad will soon be diagnosing the sane
   as mad, just because the curriculum said so)
- Top grades add up to 100% at the school for maths prodigies
- Deprived sixth formers thrive on competition
- European students rush to get into British universities
- DVLA earns £10m selling driver's details
- Mystery over Kenyan death of aristocrat
- Journalist who voted twice reported to police for
  'fraud'
- Tomato tax threatens European trade war
- Love story of the Pantomime
- Homeless conmen fleeced widow, 81
- Brownlee brothers at the Olympics...
- Hopeful shoppers give sales a lift after Brexit vote
- MoD guard could be stood down despite terrot threat
- Owners spit mansion after failing to sell
- The job with international appeal: saving our hedgehogs
- Finch warns unborn chicks if weather gets warm
- Migrant violence rises after decline in policing around Jungle
- Longest road tunnel promises a relaxing ride under Pennines
- Mothers step up to drive Tube trains through night
(rowdy teens ageing exponentially on a Saturday night
when not getting a lift, ******...)
-MP's deal with bookmaker to be investigated
- Ebola nurse 'hid high temperature'
- Shoesmith's ex-huspand kept child *******
- Morpurgo war tale springs into life
- Supergran fights off teenage muggers
- IVF is more successful for white women
OPINION SECTION
- Great political fiction is good for democracy
- the BBC is leaving its audiences in the dark
- airline food? just pass me the gin and tonic
- Modern Olympics began on the fields of Rugby
/ greasy polls, holding firm, tongue tied,
  call for compulsory targets to tackle obesity,
second in line, mindfulness course, cost of planning,
puffins v. ship rats.... and all future letters to the editor /
- Moscow presses Turkey for access to US airbases
- Hundreds killed each month in Assad's jails
- Putin bans celebration of defeated KGB coup
(another James Bond movie on the cards,
i'm assured, and with a moral carte blanche) -
Hollande clams Carla Bruni spied concerning his
use of diapers...
- Euthanasia tourists flock Belgian A & E from France,
  where a revival of ****** made people dress shark-fin
  sharp on the catwalk...
- Mosquito pesticide linkage application = intersex /
   East German women
- Haiti cholera linked to Nepalese **** and ***** via
  the

Men are doomed, Carla told me,
It’s your eternal haircuts, she continued,
How can you sculpt a life from a single shape,
One look,
Every mirror an impersonation
Of the initial version of one’s self,
Each day reduced to a child’s calculation,
You wake up, only older, grayer, a withered rasp,
Ever more discouraged by the unfairness of things.

Carla exhaled a dragon’s torrent
White jet streams unfurled out of both nostrils,
A waft of my father’s morning scent.

With a flick of her thumb,
She snapped the ash
Off the end of her cigar.
A sharp hiss as the ember sizzled and sank
In the shallow of a pavement puddle.

It had cold rained most of the day.
Over a pause, the sky roiling with indigestion,
We bundled up in autumn clothes,
And trudged uptown,
Our chins tucked deep into our chests,
Our squinty eyes glued to our shoes,
The wind had a slap to it.

It isn’t war you should fear, she continued,
It’s robots.
Soon we won’t need you for anything,
Carla jabbed her lacquered fingernail at phantoms as she spoke.
Women have been fornicating with machines
For over a hundred years, she said,
The transition for us has already occurred.

Weld and solder us a pleasant replica,
One that can shine a toilet
Sterilize the dishes, **** us brilliantly,
And recite Shakespeare at will-
Believe me,
Soon we will barter for your *******,
Exchanging bitcoins for the innate,
With no intention of ever attending your funeral.

No the war is over and men have lost, Carla repeated.
She walked ahead me,
Her hips a sashay as she spit a loose bit of tobacco leaf
Onto a lamp post.
I could not persuade my eyes to look away.

Carla,
Whom I love and regret in equal measure,
Told me to talk less and think only in the morning.
It’s unfair, she said, for someone with your demons,
To obsess past mid day.
You will only exhaust yourself,
Become dizzy from looking over your shoulder.

It’s the sparrow’s lunch you eat, she said
Afterwards you think only of suicide,
It’s your pathetic answer to everything.

You have a propensity, an absolute need to confess, Carla advised me,
You see sin as an obligation,
As a necessity to fuel your ridiculous notion of salvation,
Repentance is a shell game,
No sooner have you apologized for being yourself,
Than you begin sinning all over again.
Your quest for innocence is a self-selected Sisyphean task.

I told her I had no idea what she was talking about,
And that if she wanted to save me she had to speak in simpler terms.

Quit looking for the meaning in things, Carla said,
Life is lived on the surface,
What we really fear is not that we will die,
But how we will die,
I mean good god,
The insane Christians
Have us picturing death
With nails driven through our hands and feet,
Hanging from a crucifix,
Can you imagine the indignity,
While some low level centurion,
Stabs at us with a sword,
I mean really,
Hauling crosses up mountainsides
Being laughed at and scorned in our weakest moment,
The drama is laughable,
When the absolute truth is most of us
Will die peacefully in our sleep,
Gone without even knowing the party is over.  

Replace your metaphysics with a game of chess, Carla told me,
At least do psilocybin once in awhile
And have a genuine spiritual experience,
And she held up her hand for two more glasses of scotch,
Neat,
And lit her cigar.

(Erica went into her room to rest. Geraldine and Carla started to read the journal they had found in the box.)


He left England with a ship and sailed east until he reached
Portugal; then, he took a stagecoach and traveled to Venice.
He was in danger of highwaymen who couldn't be impeached.
His coach had a high speed, ‘cause those men could become a menace.


He had made a gold deposit at a goldsmith, who gave him
Some receipts to exchange them with money at the British bank.
Then, he traveled through Europe choosing those pathways which were dim.
There, he missed London and its air being restless and dank.



He achieved knowledge of the Europe major languages.
He was seemingly traveling at his own expense,
Covered, by his own account; in fact, he carried messages,
And any of his messages had an important sense.


He traveled as merchant bringing drugs, rare books, and some
Exotic commodities like pine nuts, pistachios, and coffee
From the Royal Exchange instead of waiting a false peace to come.
In London, his luxury shops looked like covered in toffee.



(In her room, Erica started to read the document written in the Russian language. It was one of the most fragrant, pleasant smell papers she ever had in her hands. The person owning that document was a Russian one living in London.)



This document was also a letter from the Surveyor
Of the Royal Exchange, to an Indian official asking
Him help to buy some new shops in India; the payer
Could reveal the understanding of the retail shopping.



(Geraldine continued to read from his journal written in the Russian language.)



The man described the luxury life of the British elite,
His grand house, which had been built in the rich west of London,
And his horse-drawn carriage used for rides on the main street.
He wanted lead pipes for his house as any rich Londoner.


(Erica continued to read the document.)



That paper had an annexed one about the gold needed
To help a noble lady forced to spend the rest of her life
As a penniless nun; her words about freedom were heeded.
Imprisoned as a nun, she was, in fact, an abandoned wife.




The gold was brought with a ship that should anchor in that place.
Ivan was the liaison with that man and had to take that gold
To pay the lady's freedom; tears appeared upon Erica’s face.
Ivan caused the deviation from the ship's course as he was told.




He didn't know that the carrack had been hunted by some pirates.
Erica realized that the merchant had died, but she
Did not know whether the gold had been stolen or not, those bandits
Were still around having the link letter; she fell down on her knees


To pray for her life; she understood that the ex-husband
Of that lady could torture them to death for having plotted
Against him; she prayed while needing to be many thousand
Miles away and while looking at the hill with olives dotted.



(Erica burned the document.)
(Geraldine became meditative and told Carla,)



''These treatises generate some ideas of magnificence
And splendor; the luxury is realized with the skilled
Workers and the specialized knowledge, '' ‘‘the extravagance
Of these books is declined by the wars, where the life is killed, ''



(Replied Carla. She continued,)



'' These wars bring the decline of retailing, the stagnation
Of building, and the disappearance of a real
Art market, '' ''They use all the methods to fight for their nation
On the waters to protect the land; their strife is a squeal, ''



(Replied Geraldine. Maya entered the room to invite them to dinner. She said that she had seen someone having two dogs and walking around. Suddenly, Geraldine said, ‘’ I think I give birth to my child now. I have a sharp pain. I’m so afraid! ’’)


(..To be continued.)

Poem by Marieta Maglas)

Carla said I must fast, no food, only water,
For the first three days of the New Year.

Your body yearns to have your mind in control, she told me,
This is the fatal flaw in all your attempts at happiness, she said,
If you ever stop searching for the source of your misery,
In a bowl of poutine or between the legs of an ingénue,
God this pathetic ability you have to impress young women,

Will you ever free yourself from the haste of ***,
The burst and blinding flash of ******,
I’ve seen you writhe and discharge,
Only to watch you tremble
And discover once again how alone you are.

Without ******, life is meaningless I explained,
And I watched the maple syrup slip, slide and curl
Into the center of my bowl of porridge.

*******, Carla said,
If I lightly brush my fingernails up the side of your arm
You will shiver,
A faux ****** right here in this slovenly kitchen of yours,

*** in a carnival act, almost a trick,
Evolution isn’t your friend, she said, it doesn’t want you to think.
It wants you to **** and die,
To fertilize and retire
And so it offers you this cheesy reward,
An ******, an insult, in hopes you will fornicate and forget.

You have a mind, or a remnant,
Embrace chastity for year
And then thank me for the clarity,
Start with your fast, immediately, she said
Carla leaned into me
And picked up my bowl of porridge.
The sweet smell of syrup lingered forever.

ya see i oarty all over neptune yeah, with methane yeah methane yeah methane yeip

i party all over methane yeah with all the fans of the new england patriots

ya see, everyone in the USA, SAID TO ME, party with me, you do tapestry

and then slim dusty sent

i have tipped methane all over brian i tipped methane all over brian

you see i tipped methane all over brian

and got him blind he could hardly stand

my dad picked brian allan up, and said, i will tip this methane all over ya

but you should be fine with that brian, cause it improves the quality of ya life

and bon scott and micheal jackson said to brian said to brian

you know your bad, your bad, your really really bad

your **** is mine, and if ya can’t get me right

i am way cooler than my body’s celliuite

you see brian is fat, but he is cool, as well

and then i say, party on, i drink my coke, and i say to dad

listen mate i gave you jimmy barnes as your new grandfather, what is wrong with that

dad said, i wanted to be a boy, and then robin wiklliams said **** up nanu nanu

then my nanna said, don’t call my earth body nan boy, he hates it

and i want to sing a song for you

amazing grace, how sweet the sound, leave your family alone brian

you were once my darling, but now your not,

your are blind if you can’t see that

and then started singing fly burgers saying your still not a kid brian

which made brian HAPPY, no matter how nanna sang it

at the footy the flies are cooking on the stove

brian the bbq man is falling in the can

you see we get a well cooked blowie, and put it on a plate

get the fly and say to brian, hows it going mare

in a restaurant a fly comes in and bites  hole out of brian

brian was taken in too much by the alien flies

he drank a whole lot of neptune turpentine

and then you get two buttered buns and lettuce and tomato

with my kid, john robert rimel, yeah i took him out for gelato
then nanna sang

in the summer friends drop round to enjoy the atmosphere

some drank wine, got too ******, some drank coke, for athena;s help

and others just drank beer

the bbq man noticed a fly on his back

this is what he is waiting for tah here is our mate JACK

In a hospital, it’s very busy since fly burgers were on the menu

people trying to inject the flies right out of your system

nanna said, your stupid brian, you can’t die from eating flies

i put the teasing in the young dudes, brian, to make you fucken grow up

this is what i do on earth, since i was john robbery rimel nan said

then nanna threw methane all over brian

and said, i am taking thev darling crap right out of you

brian said fine, you are not my nanny nan

you are john robert rimel now, a cover singer

and then paul berenyi said, you wanna be an artist

and said mmmmmmm, and shoved 234 kegs of methane all over brian, to rid this silly yeah matev yeah kid

and  then paul berenyi chuckled 345 methane smoothies all over dad

and brian shoved 234 methane more kegs on dad, to make dad understand

that his new life, betty campbell isn’t immortal

ya see the hardest years the darkest years the desperate and decided years

these were not forgotten years

the roaring years the falling years, these should not be forgotten years

then my brother came to sing with my nan on jupiter and me and dad went to watch it




Rock, folk rock sponsored links

A long long time ago
I can still remember how
That music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while
But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn't take one more step
I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
So

[Chorus]
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey in Rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die

Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him
Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues
I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died
I started singin'

[Chorus]

Now, for ten years we've been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
But, that's not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me
Oh and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
And while Lenin read a book on Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died
We were singin'

[Chorus]

Helter skelter in a summer swelter
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
It landed foul on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
Oh, but we never got the chance
Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?
We started singin'

[Chorus]

Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil's only friend
And as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan's spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
He was singin'

[Chorus]

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play
And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
And the three men I admire most-
the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost-
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died
And they were singing

[Chorus: x2]




and my brother took me over to the new place in neptune

where he introduced me to all his drunken mates, and

i drank too many methane smoothies, and i sang

i would love to chuck methane on brian

yeah we are having fun teasing him

methane improves the quality of each others lives

as we chuck methane all over, tome **** or jim

you see this is the way to PARTY

leave brian with egg all over his face

actually the egg is flaming methane

and my brother said, yeah, you look so high on life up here

and brian said, fine with me, brother boy

brian said, the only gentle i am, is, i don’t believe in violence

and violence doesn’t like me

every time i see a fight, i say LEAVE ME THE **** ALONE

then carla watt am said to me

my next earth body is hannah montana, ya see

i got rid of my nice voice, ms chase said i had

i said,. all kids do that, carla

that is why i believe in reincarnation

and i wanna meet miley cyrus, but i have to be famous first

and then paul berenyi said, at poetry slams you are doing well

you don’t have to worry about not talking

but don’t do what you used to do, buddy

always look like ya ready to talk

tonight we are trying to get this jittering for the families out of ya

then i went to my brother and said

i am high on methane

my brother said ok, let’s muck around hey, brian

and party right through the solar system

and then dad said, i don’t think your mates care

that is why, i stopped treating you like a young dude

but they fight, and your no bully brian

slim dusty ivy gimbert and peter sargent  said

i am a baked potato baked potato, baked potato

a baked potato, yeah

you see i am a baked potato a baked potato

a baked potato, ivy, went up to brian and said

that she is a kid now, so is peter and slim

all part of bratayley

so EVERYBODY STARTED TO REALLY PARTY, DUDES

(Cruz and Pedra were talking in the bedroom. Cruz had started to recover and his wound began to heal.)


(Pedra said,)



'' Pedro uses the morality to achieve his immoral,
Hidden goals, but you provoke the people to become
Immoral, considering them to be hypocrites; '' ''don't quarrel!
Criticism is something you cannot avoid; they're just ****.


(Cruz continued,)



You're the one who breaks any spiritual barrier
To overcome some secret limitations; you like
This concept of master-slave morality; you're a harrier.
I'm an old man, and I don't like that, sometimes, you're ready to strike.



(Cruz continued,)



Carla is your antipode; '' ''Do I spy? Did you question Ivan
About passing such a barrier between two powerful
Countries to do business? '' ''Their run just means survivin'.
I admit that I'm very curious; '' ''You think it's wonderful! ''



(Cruz said while smiling,)



''I want to change everything around and do not know how.''
''If you were not so morose and introverted, maybe
You would succeed; '' ''I'm not an orator, but I'm still alive now.
I speak too briefly and concisely, but I love you, baby.''



(Pedra replied,)



'' You're a very good observer and you think objectively.''
''I consider that you've found my way of being in the world
And this is why our marriage works so well; you're effectively
My friend; our life didn't fall apart when the lies were hurled.''


(Pedra said,)


''We have an organized family, and even when
We are not together, we are a team; '' '' I understand
That you have learned from the power of Aphra Behn's pen,
But, when you are with me, your ideas lose command.''



(Pedra replied,)



'' Maya appreciates my knowledge about botany
And history; '' '' She's a lonely woman, an unlucky one.
Between some passengers, she created a dichotomy.''
''Did you ask her some odd questions as you had done with Ivan? ''



(Cruz replied,)



''Maya is a war survivor and she learns to overcome
The poverty; '' ''she's an introvert but friendly and humane.
Although old, she works well and fast while needing to become
A talented cook; she's healthy for her age; doesn't live in vain.''



(Cruz said,)



''She needs to manage her anxiety by trying to control
Her reality; she views this ability as a matter
Of survival; '' '' she appeals to the evil powers for her goal.
To make this force be an energy field she uses the water.



(Pedra continued,)



She's a widow and her brother, Naimah, is rather clumsy.
He's not strong enough to overcome the difficulties in life.''
''How to keep fear under control she likes to study
And she's a kind of quack using plants to cure this inner strife.''



(Pedra replied,)



''She had fled war and chose the water as the primordial
Element instead of accepting the fire; then, those forces
Followed her to set this ship on fire 'cause that danger was mortal.
She thinks that these elements feed on her chakras sources.''



(Cruz replied,)



''The water quenches the fire, and when the water is dangerous,
There is no escape; '' ''Carla told me that Maya talked to her dead.
She's afraid of exorcisms; '' ''she cannot endanger us.''
''To bring Maya to Allah, Geraldine has a wise head.''



(Cruz replied,)



'' Geraldine has been pregnant while needing help; she seems to be
A fighter, but in reality, she's peaceful, frail and helpless.
You are a totally different person; '' ''no loss is known in me.
To help Surak after abandoning her kids was useless.''



(Cruz replied,)



'' Maybe her children are strong, but her nephew needs help.''
'' Maybe she needs purity to get her protective energy
While entering the unknown; '' ''stop turning my brain to kelp!
It's intuition. If I wasn't in that gun-room, we would die.''



(Cruz began to tell her about the person who had saved him from death.)



(To be continued…)



Poem by Marieta Maglas

THE ALLAN FAMILY FUN DAY AT THE SPORTS


YA SEE, WE HAD FUN GOING  TO RAIDERS BACK WHEN THEIR HOME GAMES WAS

AT SEIFFERT OVAL IN QUEANBEYAN, WITH MY MATE LYLE, FRANK AND PAT

AND WE CUT OUR LUNCHES AND PACKED OUR BAGS, GOT OUR FLAGS READY

WITH JUMPERS JUST IN CASE WE GOT COLD, AND OFF TO THE FOOTY WE GO

AND WE YELLED OUT RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP

EVEN IF THEY **** OR NOT, WE STILL BARRACKED FOR THE RAIDERS

WE YELLED OUT

RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP

AND LYLE YELLED BLUE ****** AT THE REFEREE

AND THE LADY BEHIND SAID, CAN YA QUIETEN YA LANGUAGE, THERE IS A LITTLE GIRL HERE

LYLE GOT CRANKY, DUDE AND THEN WE CHEERED OUT

RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP  RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP

AS THE RAIDERS RUN ON ME AND LYLE, YELLED, GO, GO, GO, GO GO GO

AND AS THE RAIDERS SCORED, ME AND LYLE JUMPED UP AND CHEERED, YIPPEE I AY

WE CHEERED GET PFF HIM YA ****** OPPOSITION PLAYER

OR I WILL TAKE YOU TO THE ****** ESTABLISHORY COURT

ME AND PAT, SAID, WHAT THE **** IS AN ESTABLISERY COURT, ANYWAY

WE BROUGHT OUR RADIOS, SO WE CAN HEAR THE STUPID COOMENTATORS

HARTLEY AND PETERS, MAKE FUN OF EACH OTHER

WE WATCHED ALL 3 GRADES, BUDDY

TEASING ONE ANOTHER AS WE GO ABOUT OUR DUTIES OF CHEERING

RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP  RAIDERS CLAP CLAP CLAP

AND WE HAD FUN TEASING ONE ANOTHER

I WAS THE IMAGINATION KING, AND ME AND LYLE ALSO WENT TO

THE CHEER FOR THE BELCONNEN MAGPIES WITH OUR BLACK AND WHITE STREAMERS

AND I CHEERED LOUDLY AND A LADY SAID, WOULD YOU PLEASE SHUT UP

I SAID NEH,  WHY SHOULD I LAD, IT’S A PRBLIC PLACE THIS FOOTY GROUND

AND AT THE CANBERRA COSTAIN CAT MATCH, I YELLED OUT COME ON *****’S

MEANING I WANT THE **** CCHHERGIRLS TO COME OUT

BUT THIS MAN THOUGHT I MEANT ***** CATS, AND SAID SHUT UP IDIOT

LYLE SAID, DON’T WORRY, IF YA WANT TO CHEER THE CHEERLEADERS ON WITH SOME ***

GO FOR IT, TIGER, AND YOU SHOULD CHEER FOR YOUR TEAM AS MUCH AS YA WANT

ME AND LYLE ALSO TOOK CARLA AND HER BROTHER CHRIS TO THE CANNONS

AND WE YELL OUT, CANNONS CLAP CLAP CLAP CANNONS CLAP CLAP CLAP CANNONS CLAP CLAP CLAP

AND EVERY BASKET, LYLE YELLED OUT, A BIG, HOOOORAHHHH

AND ANOTHER CHEER WENT LIKE THIS

HERE WE GO CANNONS, HERE WE GO, CLAP CLAP

HERE WE GO CANNONS HERE WE GO CLAP CLAP

HERE WE GO CANNONS HERE WE GO CLAP CLAP

AND WE RAN OUT AFTER THE CANNONS WON OR LOST ON TO THE COURT, TO HAVE A FEW SHOTS AT THE BASKET

I REMEMBER, I BECAME VERY POPULAR GOING TO SPORTS EVENTS, LIKE THIS

OUR RAID BASKETBALL WENT ONTO THE FIELD ONE DAY

AND THERE WAS A FINAL ON, AND ME, LYLE AND CARLA WAS IN THE SAME ROW

BECAUSE, THE SEATS, WERE SOLD, LYLE’S MUM SAID

BRIAN IS BEING FUNNY, HE IS PLAYING A JOKE ON YOU

BUT IF LYLE WANTS TO TEASE LIKE THAT WITH HIS FAMILY, I DON’T WANT HIS MATESHIP INTO ADULT HOOD

AND ME AND LYLE HAD A FALLING OUT, LYLE SHIPPED OFF TO SALE,

CANNONS ARE NO MORE

RAIDERS GRAND FINAL IS NO MORE

LYLE’S FRIENDSHIP IS NO MORE

OH YEAH IT SEEMS TO GO, YA DON’T KNOW WHAT YA HAD TILL IT’S GONE

YA SEE WITH PARADISE, WE ENDED THESE STUPID MATES

ALL BECAUSE OF A MISTAKE IN 1990, ON GRAND FINAL DAY

I ALWAYS REMEMBERED PLAYING BASKETBALL AND WODEN AND HAVING A DRINK IN THE CLUB AFTERWARDS

IT WAS RADICALLY AWESOME DUDES

I WAS UNDERAGED, BUT I STUCK WITH JUICE

I REMEMBER PAT ORGANISED THIS BIG BBQ IN HIS FLAT

WITH EVERYONE FROM BASKETBALL

AND WE ALL HAD SO MUCH FUN

THANK YOU PATRICK AND LYLE

FOR LETTING ME HAVE MY WONDERFUL LIFE

THANKS DUDES

Chiara, Arturo's wife, approached them together with
Lucca and Francesca, the other Italian pair
Saying, ''Was Quare's invention real? I thought it was a myth.''
'' His barometer measures the pressure of the air.''


Chiara was wearing a red gown, with lace trimming the low,
A green velvet mantel, which was lined with some ermine,
Square neckline and sleeves, which were gathered at the elbow.
She spoke well Italian, Spanish, and German.


Italians wanted to disembark at Syracuse.
Bella and Miguel traveled to Barcelona home.
To find a new home, Naimah and his son had an excuse.
Out of their Turkey's limit, through the storms, they would roam.


Tia, Athan, Megan, and Karsten would disembark
At Selanik, an Ottoman province, where Ahmed
The Third was reigning while his war was a fire in the dark.
They were Greeks being born during the reign of Mehmed.


Marco and Rosa, Cruz and Pedra, Pedro and Carla
Were Portuguese pairs coming home from America.
They had bought from the Pueblo Indians some ollas.
They gave one to the Russian pair, Ivan, and Erica.


Ivan said, ''Tell me something about these Indians.''
Carla said, ''Their belief means dualism; they eat corn.
Some became Catholic due to the Spanish civilians.
They think they emerged from underwater to be born.''


Carla wore a black cap, having a veil, and a green gown
Patterned with acorns and flowers, and her sleeves were caught
With jeweled clasps on lace at the elbow; her eyes were brown.
''The water is fresh in the ollas, I like them a lot.''

She asked Ivan’’ Now, where do you go? ’’ ‘’We left the war.’’
''Ahmed and Peter the First! '' replied Cruz, '' tell me something,
How could you reach Constantinople after coming from far? ''
''I do trade with them, but this war destroyed everything.''

''Did you lose everything you had? '' Marco asked Ivan.
''To make business in Turkey, I sold all my Russian goods.''
Erica tried this conversation to enliven,
''In Portugal, we'll search for a job in cities and hoods.''

Marco wore a banyan with a patterned lining; his cuffs
Were embroidered in gold; his justacorps and stockings
Over his breeches were red like Rosa's shoes and muffs.
All of them wore periwigs and talked a lot while walking.

( To be continued...)

Poem by Marieta Maglas