Sa paglakaw niining mga gabon
sa kalangit-on
Sama sa isa ka pagbaklay kauban ka
padulong ngadto sa kalipayon
Ang bidlisiw sa adlaw kanunay
gayud sa atoa nga magasiga
Kay ikaw sa tunhay mao
ang akong gugma.

Wala ko namatyagan nga ikaw mubaot
niining akong kinabuhi
Wala ko usab damha nga ang akong
kasing-kasing sa imo diay mulingi
Karon, ang dagat dili
na hintawon parat
Kay ikaw man ang akong gugma, busa dili
gayud tika ipahilak.

Ang matag-gabii nako, karon dili
na matugnaw
Mahitungod sa imong gugma nga sa tanan
gayud nagpatigbabaw
Ang gubot nga butang ginabag-o mo,
ikaw ra gayud akoa
Ug ikaw ginahigugma ko kagahapon, karon
og hangtod sa ugma.

Sa mainit mo nga mga gakos, sa matam-is
**** mga halok
Sa maanyag **** pagngisi, mawagtang
diritso ang akong pagkalagot
Gikinahanglan taka sama sa hangin,
tubig ug uban pa
Kay ikaw sa tunhay mao
ang akong gugma.

Dili na ako mulambinggit pa ngadto sa
uban nga dalan
Kay nagakuyog naman kita nga nagalakaw
nganhi sa kahangturan
Paminawa ang tanan ko nga gipangsulti
kay tinuod kani sila
Nganong mamakak man lugar ako, nga ikaw man
sa tunhay mao ang akong gugma.

in all honesty: i think that what Rick Rubin did to Johnny Cash could beat... even if an Elvis could be resurrected... there's no need...

what day is it today? i'm guessing it's a Tuesday...
it feels like a Tuesday....
i "ought" to feel like a Wednesday...
oh... wait... that's tomorrow...
only a minute from now...
it has been several days since i'm living alone
in a house with two cats...
i feed them without any regularity...
the raw turkey meat is cut up lying
in a bowl on the table...
the fridge is humming: it's full of food i will
never get through...
i tried to eat today: that's the thing about
living alone: you might mind the hygiene:
but in terms of eating one decent meal...
i forced myself to make some broccoli soup...
i forced myself to eat it...
with a decent amount of cheddar cheese...
and three slices of toasted sourdough
sunflower bread: no butter...
tomorrow i'm dreaming up...
i have some mushrooms that will go to waste...
i'm thinking creamy sauce pasta:
creamy mushroom pasta...
i was thinking risotto...
i have a spare stuffed capsicum in a tomato sauce...
i ate some figs with sour cream while
drinking some yerba mate green tea...
two glasses of full-cat... fat... milk
and two bitesize brownies...
but... eating when living alone is such a...
boring chore...
i don't want to eat alone: i rather starve myself...
drinking mr. whiskers & ms. amber isn't
a problem: oddly enough...
just the eating part:
no one ever shat themselves from not eating...
i'll drink the electrolytes to make sure
i have enough salts...
i saved the strawberries...
made a decent pulp juice for the gelato i will finish
off tomorrow...
i will not perform any house chores...
i have an excess of spring-onions:
i will use them instead of onions...
i also have too many lemons...
more ******* gelato...
   - and beside the crippling fear that comes with
noon and sunlight...
England's September: Indian Summer...
i ought to be doing something procreative...
crippled with a funny sort of fear
i fasted while turning into a couch potato...
managed to watch a film: FILTH...
i begged for the night to come...
listening to Teutonic songs... and other
medieval assortments...
watching THE LIGHTHOUSE really ****** me up...
it's like... the one movie BERGMAN didn't
make... it's such a pristine movie...
it's every movie i have ever seen
and more! the black & white canvas is esp.
convincing about the existential bleakness of life...
and around me... sure... life... happens...
people have children...
people take dogs for daily walks...
i sometimes wish i owned an aquarium
rather than a television set...
- but will not lemon juice cause the milk
to curdle?! will i be making cheesy lemon ice-cream?!
i need to look this detail up...
i'll need to water the garden...
i'll put off the house chores for a day or two...
i want the chores to make sense so i'll wait for
the dust to gather...
two spiders decided to make themselves known
in the kitchen... beside mosquitos i find
it almost impossible to **** insects...
even flies... of course i gag when seeing maggots...
in return i tend to give them a bleach bath...
which is not unlike
sprinkling salt on snails...
as my former girlfriend used to do in her youth:
funny... that...
i once came across two boys who would
smear lipstick on frogs and... subsequently set them
alight...
mosquitos i can ****...
maggots i can drown in a bleach soup
while i clean the dustbin...
- so the world around me happens...
people have invested themselves...
i ignite a candle... two...
scented... and think about those nights i spent
walking around in the graveyard to get
a proper kick out of myself...
- from time to time smoking a cigarette imbues
you with a hallucinatory aftertaste of:
something decently cooked... notably something
beef related... or mushrooms...
i'm dreaming of this... creamy mushroom sauce
i'll gobble down with linguine...
pretend to play the violin: imagine Waterloo Bridge...
but all i'm doing is fiddling with my
beard...so many people have move beyond:
have had their life...
while i'm still: as one ******* mentioned
while crying her eyes out
when i kissed her eyelids...
in her own words: you're still... the same...
i am? can you tell me... who i am?
i found around 70 units of Euros that
i will exchange for pounds...
and will cough up the dough
for an hour's worth of affection...
- for two days solid i was having these cold sweats...
falling in love with lying on
the floor... the floor was all i wanted to love...
it wasn't a bed... it wasn't cushions...
it was... something of an... asterisk: crucifix...
so much for life spent imitating
an indigestion of a boa constrictor...
i'll pretend to manage:
it's important for me to eat something
solo...
bad mushrooms...
as you usually get with spaghetti
in a creamy sauce:
i'm skidding further than i'm *******...
have we really: become...
all there is?
left? for the future...
at least the Africans have made up
more hustle with Christianity...
i can't buy into it...
for whatever is made available...
- the day makes me nervous...
i'm sad therefore i ******* to excess...
once the day ends...
the night begins...
it starts to rain...
             ancient tongues are spoken...
only today in the parking-lot
a... most blossoming of a woman in her...
oh... i suppose her... late 30s...
was pretending to be bothered about something
resembling a shopping-trolley...
i never had luck with women...
i had more target practice with prostitutes
and... that's just fine...
while Islam looks so... tremendously
brain-frozen... it has to look toward conquest
while its rotten core of Saudi Arabia
is a... sigh... the Dubai a city build on
sand surrounded by sea-water:
no river...
i need to think about making
that lemon gelato... i don't want to see
the milk curdle... i will not be making
a lemon-cheese gelato!
  - such are the modern times...
i sometimes envision... a people...
a freely giving world fit for exploration
and undeniable uncertainty...
not this...
     sorry... what is this?
             every single modern critique leaves me
melancholic...
every concern these moderns have leaves me
asking: when! since when"
has a slack of intelligence been
so rewarded that it must be:
critiqued: acknowledged...
at least the Soviets meant something...
this modernity: this sickness...
this... atomised... man...
i am: an atomised man...
                
          i conjure up a sense of belonging
that's dislocated from what once
belonged as: concern for lineage:
i write in English: i think in English...
i'm... half-born: integrated...
second-born... while i watch people like
my father with a bad english accent...
yet... wholly competent...
i have people still curious where
i'm from... on the subtle level...
in Essex: isn't the London metropolitan
clearly said: enough...

this land... England... is... here...
but i'm not...

in an older tongue: beside this cosmopolitan
Ing-Leash...
the world is known: it can no longer satisfy
a measure of... what could ever possibly be
"inquired": suspended in a wait...
in... a longing...
we have arrived and... we are not happy
to have arrived at this time...
oh: but the comforts are all there...
but i would give up...
all the pressures of the currency
of the now had certainty for...

for...
             give me! the expectancy of sorrow!
give me a life most brief!
not this... extension of life that becomes...
life abounding in the ownership of
things...

cages... cages.... nothing but cages...
give me the impossibility of the moon!
give me the myth of the moon back!
give, me, my... feet back!
i want to return to "something"
rotten: rotting... pure...
revised: amnesia riddled...
let me experience the same-old
the same-old anew... but no...
lucky loser pool of the bureaucratic
hive mind(s)...

conquest of space
but not the conquest of time...
the sea by some: "mediocre" man...
stretch any man...
count them... convert in order to
converse with them...
the pillow was acquired by...
replicating the idea of a cloud...

of this "life"... i want more!
i want to scream in the night!
i want to howl with the creatures
that make mans' hearts shiver...

liv venter: død parat...

it has rained so many times in the night...
the rain has... conquered the night:
so many times..
it has rained so many times in the night...
in the night... in the night...
true hearts were: spawned...
it has rained so many times in
the night...

Wisps of an unfulfilled dream
Floated around in the air
Pale, gossamer, fading, formless
Like a word in its womb.

He drew a laboured breath in
But his heaving chest
Couldn't expel enough
To move the wisps away.

Tired eyes closed their lids,
Fast wearying of it all
And opened once again
Checking if they'd gone.

No, they hadn't ;indeed no
For they were playing it too,
The waiting game
To see who'd go first.

One more rasping breath
Drawn in long and laboured.
Then a grunting wheeze
And still the wisps lingered.

And so the game went on
Long into the cold night 'ntil
there was left no more,
Not a wisp, not a breath.


Anilkumar Parat