Wildfire Love


Love is
The most powerful
on the face of
this earth
Binds us together,
breaks us apart
Like the crackling wildfire
Burning through
Forest land
Melting sky with earth
Trees with flowers
Predator with prey
Into a winged
pitch black
amber butterfly
Set free
Gently floating
Above a brazen inferno
Immune to its raging heat
Searching for a new place
To call home
To rest
To breathe
To mend
what has been broken
when the summer blaze
There is autumn
And a long cold winter
But then again
there’s spring. :)


The Irony of Every Beautiful Thing

Let me write now alive and well
Roaming in my thoughts
Like I have never roamed before
My heart in pain and soul in anguish
From all the hubris and make belief
I bear the coldness
of my naked solitude with pride
I will not budge,
I will not hide
But  I ask myself:
What difference could I have made?
She’s like a broken water fountain
On a warm day
The thirsty stand in line to take a sip
But all that she can serve them are her tears
And as I stand in line and wait my turn
I’m writing these few lines
To keep me company
I’ll never have her
Although we could have had the world
That’s just the irony of every beautiful thing
It’s always at a distance,
fleeting, beyond reach
But no
I will not budge
I will not hide
I’ll stand under the scorching sun for days
Until her tears and mine
Pour their way into a stream
And share some journey
Towards a setting sun




I walk barefoot,
Not because I’m naked
Nor poor
Nor in need of shoes
But because I’m curious
To feel and reconnect
With clay beneath my feet
And muddy fields
To voyage through
A forgotten world
That’s right beneath our feet.

Now, we walk barefoot
Fields a bit more green to touch
And as the blades of grass
caress our heels,
the sunshine rains
between our toes.
I feel I know you more.
We dance
I witness all your life
Your past and present
and what’s to come,
As your feet sway gently
across the floor.

And in the morning,
Our hearts still cold
From the loneliness of night
But our feet are bare
and slightly touching
anticipating another day
Making shapes,
telling stories,
and leaving footprints
on our way.

(Adapted from my post on October 18, 2013)

Dialogues on a Boat Ride

Dialogues on a Boat Ride

What’s that on your hand?
Too long a story to be shared
Longer than a boat ride then?
I don’t know where to start
Where does your heart take you?
But now its hovering around your lips
Its floating around the crevices of your smile
Trying to understand
The stories behind that pensive look
Shrewd remarks
Laughing but shy
Humming but not carefree
Who are you stranger?
I’ve told so many lies
I feel I know you well
Have we met before?
Why are we so different then?
I could never tell
Are you afraid of water?
It’s cold and I am tired
But yet we are so young
What’s your name again?
No need
How could we sometimes feel
So connected, just for a bit
And never have the courage
To ask for more?
Accustomed to being who we are
And with who we usually are with
I may have met my soul mate
We may have shared
So many early morning laughs
But now that’s just another story
To be told
Thought about at night
When reflecting about the day
As I’m getting old
And nearer to the bay

Poem 104

The Sculptor: Shit You Don’t Tell Your Girlfriend

ImageCan I describe beauty?
Can I?
That stare, oh that stare
That pensive look
So subtle
So simple
So sweet
Is all I long for everyday
The stone so cold
As I brush away the morning dust
And wipe away the dew of her exuberance
And all of nature’s forces in my chisel here
With every ebb
My whole world rocks
Until I’m petrified into her gaze
And we are one in stone
Molded for eternity
For all to witness the majesty of our love

Character: 85/100 (Awaiting the second phase of Bohemiaspeaks!)

The Bridesmaid: Diamond Rings & Dishwashers

Dreams scratching at my face
Trying to escape my mind
To pop out of my eyes and fly away
Towards a place where they can be
Inside the bond of marriage we are two
Trying to make some sense out of our love
But passion knows no sense or meaning true
Ambiguity is what it feeds upon
Not reason nor a chartered course to make
It is the lack of reason and the doubt
That keeps the flame ablaze
A passion so strong that it fuels the night
With raging fires consuming all our thought
Between the dusty frames that bound our lives
So much is lost, so little to be told
Upon this mantelpiece that they call love
Our lives adjoin into an institute
What room is there for appetite
After the dishes have been done
I wash away the remnants of our youth
And dry our lustful aspirations with a cloth
What worldly way could we decide to choose
To keep desire hungry but subdued
It seems that what we have could never be
Bound by the sanctity of family

Character: 77/100 (We’re getting closer!)

The Reckless Driver: Brain Freezes on Route Sixty-Four

Ripped away
From gutters of yesterday
Bleeding with anguish
Swaying around
In puddles of desolation
Ripping through our guts
Spraying our insides
Across the windshield
Jubilating at the sight
Of darkness tearing through us all
Pieces flying all around the sky
Freeing us from being in one place
Speed is the world
On ecstasy ravaging
Towards an unknown turn
Blinking fog lights
Broken signals
Navigating through our passion
A tale of dying everyday
And when our corpses rupture
Holding hands
All that befalls
Is a tiny simple snowfall
Trying to cover up
All the wrongs of this world
Trying to hide
From the eyes of the newborn
The shame of existence
The sham of persevering in a world
Where all we have is lost around a corner
Seeping blood crawls like snow cones
To the surface painted red
An icy carpet made of strawberry slurpee
We take it all in
Without a second thought
Brain freezes on Route Sixty-four
Jittery hands, coy touches
In a magic carriage ride
Making love at 120
Climaxing at 150
Why live at any slower pace?

Character: 68/100

The Deaf Girl: An Eternal Sign Language

To you whose words I long to hear
To you beyond the distant meadow fields
To you I pledge to keep my life
For dying means a silence I can’t bear
Scraping through my eardrums in my sleep
Until my whole entirety has been emptied
From holes inside my head
I lose myself
A deafness I have never known

Beyond the noise of your demise
Your words so sweet
Still tear the walls of solitude
And build instead a humble home
Where love can dwell and multiply
To you whom time has stolen years
The final gift I can bequeath
Is my bouquet of years to live
With all the joy of silent memory
Each day just like a silent film
And you’re the star of every episode

To you whose words I long to hear
I hear you in moonlit sky
In children’s smiles throughout the day
In blueberry muffins and ham & cheese
In brewing coffee cups and setting suns
In every corner of my life
You still are there with all your signs
Teaching me the language of our love

Character: 67/100

The Chef: The Taste of Love

To you my darling ginger skin
I cast myself into the sifting flour
And as I sprinkle on your top
I’m churned into a buttery sauce
And melt across your naked chest
Sugar-coating every inch I conquer
With my splendid taste
Enchanted by your gracious self
I lose my presence in your eyes
And fumble all existence in your arms

A simple smile can keep my belly full
A naked laugh, a feast to feed the world
With you I push the limits of my mind
Towards sensations far beyond my recipes
For you I carve my heart with smiles
And marinate my soul with happiness
And even naked pheasants
Cooked on gentle fires
Would cherish every ounce of pain
Knowing that you will be served
Their feathers plucked but their conviction strong
That they in turn would taste of love

But even oven clocks can’t keep the time
They seem to tick much faster than we’d like
Our moments simmer, burning fast
Its too intense
Between the char of what we have
I cannot reproduce the taste of love
With all your tears and sobbing on my mind
I dine on banal meals and serve my hate instead
For man was never meant to taste
The bittersweet melancholy of love

Character: 64/100

The Moto-Racer: Checkered Flags & Finish Lines

Slicing through the silence of the streets
Let us ride together and forever in between
Eternity and present time
Let us dwell in dreams of victory
Golden trophies and champagne
With answers clear
An endless race with static clocks
Where winning can mean staying put
And staying put is all we need
To move beyond the finish line
No ribbon there to mark the end
Of our sweet course
Only a pistol on the mantelpiece
So that the world can start to race
While we lay back and watch the show
For peace is all that we would know
Racing for each other’s love
On mountain sides and prairie plains
Shifting gears to stay in tune
With our true selves
No matter what is in our way
But every race the rules are clear
Only one is meant to win
So time is bound to run again
Against the odds we play our game
I am to fast, you can’t keep up
The race begins
I come in first
And after checkered flags and finish lines
I’m there alone to make some sense
Of losing so much more than I have gained

Character: 63/100

The Tailor: Garments of Distrust

A fitting room
My arm around your waste
I set the pin in place
A tiny prick
A sigh of pain
You grab my hand
I smile
I’d sew you to my soul
And leave some pockets on your sides
So that you can find a place
To hide your secrets
But then again
I’m not your size

When wrapped around you
Even a dress itself
Would know its place
Beneath the fabric
You are meant to shine
Naked in your thoughts sublime
Conjuring perfect circles
That complete your silhouette

Come with me towards tomorrow
Why do you refuse to dream?
About another place
About the fleeting taste of memory
You live the now,
And I am bound by reverie
And even though we meet in flesh
Naked unprotected
We cannot conceive
Time between us ripped apart like daffodils
Perched atop two canyons in distress
Peering into mirrors until we burn
And fly around with smoky fumes
Across the universe until we meet
Where time converges
In some distant place

Why do you refuse to dream?
In this room
Our bodies meet, we can conceive
Another world
But when the morning shines
We realize
That we just come from different times
You dwell the now
And I am caught up in your lies
As I sew your wedding dress
I wonder why
You choose to hide yourself
In this disguise

Character: 62/100

The Plumber: When Marriage Goes Down the Shitter

Sliding through this life
Just like a wedding ring
Lost in bathroom pipes
Swimming in another world
In dungeons of distress
I reach for nuts and bolts
To crank the toilet open
Beyond her stinking shit
Beyond the smell of treachery
I’m here to find a lie
Soaked in monogamy
A faucet with no water
A bathtub with no pressure
A sink forever clogged
Until another man is called
To do the trick

I’m here on my own terms
I follow pipes wherever they may lead
Closet augers, a basin wrench and snakes
My life just like a public toilet seat
To every ass in town
That thinks they know me and so judge
But let me say this now
I make the water run
And in so doing
Bring life to every corner of this world
A knight in shining armor
Against the callous crumbs of yesterday

I need to find this ring
Or else it’s surely over
In pipes and toilet seats
So much truth
A marriage lost
In the shit
Flushed down the gutters
Without a tool in sight
Only a feeble plunger
That sticks to our behinds
A marking of our failure
A testament to our lies
The punch line clear
Or so I realize
When marriage down the shitter goes
A plumber can’t advise!

Character: 61/100

The Lion tamer: Surviving Her Attack

In between your fingernails exists
A callous joy of  memories
Your  scratches hard onto a film so thin
Trying to steal a moment shared within
The bonds that linked us every time we met
A bleeding lioness perched atop her prey
Falls in love with wounds made in defense
A sodomizing urge as she attempts
To struggle for her dignity
In jungles where mistakes can take away
The love bestowed by many everyday

A second guess, a small mistake
And everything is lost!
Her fangs sink in my skin
But with the aches, some sense of gratitude
For having met such wondrous a creation
For having shared so little time
The trails of blood run through my recent past
Erasing everything we used to share
No cameras, no film can bring it back
So stop the scratching only if you dare

And with your bloody paws
You draw some vowels on the wall
Behind the cage of your emotions
Painted like a child’s attempt
To send a message to my aching soul
The “I” for thee
The “O” the “E”
Interrupted by an “L” and “V”
And finally a discontinued blot
You are too proud to say that you love me

Character: 58/100

The Nun: Sinful Attraction

I try to contemplate on thy sweet love
But lost with enchantment to your beauty
A fairness too fair in forgetness gloves
The image of such a wond’rous memory

I sleep between the lashes of your eyes
On skin ever more tender than the soil
Beneath my home between my roots I cry
Above to your sweet brow I will be loy’l

Oh fate why must I mourn my bitter end?
I die the worst death that can ever be
A million daggers to my chest I lend
I burn inside, oh passion set me free

This sinful love, I will no longer fight
A new baptism with he who is in sight

Character: 53/100

The Welder: Mending Broken Hearts

Through my goggles
I see another world
A land of smoke and molten lava
Believe and you shall reap
For at love’s length
There’s nothing one can’t reach
And after winters cold and barren
Spring will bloom
A simple shrub
Atop a carpet made of snow
Will signal the beginning of something new
A fire deep inside
Dampened by the rain will burn again
I prep my tools
A thick red flame will jump right out
Of my machine
And snatch your heart towards another world

A heart of stone can never burn
It only melts
In shining molten lava land
Liker rivers thick, it flows
Like starry skies, it glows
We’re blinded by its light
A million shadows on the walls unfold
A million stories to be told
Of drunken nights and journeys old

And as I work my way into your chest
I leave my mark
I mend your broken heart
I keep the fire on
This time the warmth
Is never-ending
The lava flows between our eyes
It brings us joy
I take my goggles off
And as we liken ourselves to the gods
We burn to death
To rise again reborn

Character: 45/100

The Farmer: Olive oil and Love

I miss you dearly
Just like I miss a summer breeze
That cools my body in times of heat
Just like the olive tree gives birth to oil
Only to miss its olives for a year
Our love has given birth to memories
But we have lost each other for some time
And with this vivid oil I cook my meals
And dine with your remembrance forevermore

I miss the tassels of your hair
I used to use them
To swing between your eyes
I’d slide my way to your sweet lips
And in their soft embrace we’d be reborn

I see you in the rain
It draws your name on windowsills
The windmill plays your favorite song
The shiny drops of water from the sky
They soak my feet and wake my inner-child
A humbling feeling that feels unfamiliar

But now you’re gone
And with you all the world has cleaved in two
And as our memories fade away
I tend to olive trees
And ask for clouds and rain
To keep alive the harvest of our love
Character: 40/100

The Houskeeper: Pillows & Pigeon Shit

Love is a featherless pillow
It falls gently from the sky
Hits us hard when we’re asleep
But never wakes us

We’re lost in dreams
We travel the world
Ancient ruins and abandoned temples
We explore
Scavenge through the forests deep
Poke through the craters of distant caves
Shelves and drawers
Closets and some cupboards
We live a million years to share the stories

A gentle gaze from eyes so perfect
Bleach your soul with a feeling so divine
A humbling rumble in your guts
A sense of belonging that folds you into two
A sense of fitting
A sense of letting go
All packaged in a cushion cover

And every night as we wander in our dreams
We steal a feather from a bird
And bring it back with us as proof
Of our emotions so surreal

As time goes by the pillow grows
It’s stained from our adventures
It falls so blandly from the sky
Just like a drop of pigeon shit
It strikes us hard
Its blows are stronger by the hour

We begin to ache
We begin to hurt
We carry on
Until the feathers packed so hard
Once a symbol of our own freedom
Become the instruments
Of our own demise
And so in truth I finally see
I’m not desired anymore
A house to keep I cannot keep
My heart’s no longer welcome

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The Lumberjack: Psalms and Spanish Matadors

Across my palms they reign
No need for psalms in lands of fury
The cold will not forget your flesh
And so we sacrifice a log or two
Atop this fire burning every night
We pray for life and as the fire dies
We sit and watch the moon so bright
We join its crescent to become full

And as the snow descends
We use its flakes
To weave a story that warms our hearts
We speak of love, we speak of  hope
But all is lost to this cold night
Her skin is chapped
Her hands are blue
Her hair no longer waving in the wind
She does not smile
Instead she gives a solemn stare
Into the dark abyss she pierces through
Towards a world of everlasting sun

And as I toil to keep her warm
I wage a war against the universe
One bearded man, one ax, one soul
Against the greater awe that bounds us all

I stab into the forest hard
To steal some life for her to have
A Spanish knight against the mills of change
I fight and fall then rise and fight again
One eye upon the dying flame
Another on the endless woods of hope

Let every splinter in my flesh
Cry out to her magnificence
And after all the forests of the land
I’ll set myself ablaze to save her life

Narcotic Love – A Journey in the mind of the Scriptwriter

Rings of smoke
Flying through the air
A whiskey flavor lingers in my mouth
My beard is coarse
My feet inside some random slippers rest
The bathrobe on the side
Stows her smell
We pose afront a warming fireplace
The cracking of a vinyl melody
Makes perfect tone for such a rainy night

If only she were mine,
I’d have her here with me
On top my desk
Instead of books and pens
I’d read her body
A million fantasies to be told
Legs apart
From head to toes
So soft and thin
Damp and soggy from the rain
I’d study her from within
A million lessons to be learned
From heart to soul
So pure and kind
Untouched by all the evil in this world

If only she were here,
I’d help her hang her furry coat
Set aside her necklace made of pearls
Untie the ribbon on her hair
Unbuckle her vest and reach towards her skin
I’d peel her from her covering
Like chocolate from a wrap
I’d melt her on my chest and arms
And pour us both into a flask
Until we dry across the fireplace
We harden in a soft embrace

I’d lay with her
Under the rain
Alone and complete
Without shame
Like children again
We wash and play
Nothing is more truthful than the rain

If only she could stay,
I’d set her on my bed
A thousand pages with its sheets I’d write
A thousand rainy nights
To quench our thirst
And when the dawn breaks with its light
We’d morph into a summer haze
The smoke, the scotch, my prickly beard
My reading glasses, my books, my pens
They never mattered
And so I lose again

Blindfolds and Coffee Mugs – The Blind Boy’s First Love

When in doubt
I think of beauty

The lashes of her eyes
Scratching at my chest
As we wait in silence
Clutching in our sleep
For the sun to rise
Awake and fulfilled
Beyond desires of the flesh

Her smile
Displaces the air around the room
Her wavy hair
Like sandy reefs
I weave myself into their cool embrace
Her fingertips
Adjust my collar
Mixed with the scent of coffee brew
Her perfumed skin
So soft as she caresses me
Her cold chapped lips
Melt as she sips my coffee from the cup

A smile
A breeze of air
A silence in the lover’s midst
A sin so small
A blushing shame
Beyond conception
And every day, I think

I am free
From all anger
From all rage and retribution
From the toil of observation
So mechanic and controlled

I am one
With that overarching eye
Of wisdom to which our souls cling
On which we melt like butter on a pan
With which we age like ancient wine
And squeeze into a gentle juice
We spin on top a gentle blaze
Sit beside the moss at sea
And serve ourselves as dinner
On the plate of everlasting joy

I am liberated
From sight
With her the whole world disappears
And all that remains
Are shadows of a poltergeist
That moves my heart
Towards my inner self
Peels rainbows apart
And wraps my soul with vivid strings

I am blind

Eternal Orgasm – A night in the mind of the Gravedigger

Your eyes are gazing
Straight ahead
You cannot see me
As I watch
I wonder what you’re thinking of
I wonder how you feel
And as I sip your fruity wine
I drift into a foggy haze
The sun is peaking through the window sill
The morning cold, but here inside
Our warmth is endless
A fireplace to dry our soaking souls
I reach towards your shining self
I take a piece of life to break my fast
The sun is seeping in some more
As we lay here without a single word
What’s to be said when feelings are complete?
Where should we go when we have been so far?
And as the sun sets the room gets dark
We clutch together naked and alone
We hear the rain pour on the meadow
We hear the gates slam, we light some candles
We melt into each other
We melt into the moment
One with it all
The rain, the sun, the light the dark
The passing time
Is no constraint
To our connection
As long as I can keep
The flowers fresh
The stone on top will never be
That of a tomb
But rather a foundation
For our endless love
Let’s rest in peace
Here and now
That’s what this place is for
A sanctuary of eternal truth
A field where love is planted
And as the days go by
I watch you grow
So gracefully
And I rejoice

Sexual Trance – Midnight Show of the Brothel Dancer

Lights flickering
Smoke machines breathing foggy mist
Constant pulsation of a tacky beat
And in the darkness of the room
An army of yellow teeth

I take some hits before I take the stage
A needle squeezes comfort in my veins
Emerging from the foggy mist
My body cleaves across the room
The contours of my golden skin
Slides on the squeaky granite floor

I start with letting my hair go loose
I feel the air begin to thin around me
I pull aside my straps and untie
The laces that keep my basque in place

As I reveal myself to the outer world
My body floods with feelings of seduction
The men around me reveal themselves by drooling
They feel my heat
I feel their slobber seeping up the stage
A stream of murky liquid flowing towards me

I touch my skirt and as they gaze
I rip it off and set the cloth ablaze
Although I’ve practiced many times
The plumes of smoke still choke me

I dance along the dotted line
In total nudeness I embrace my fate
And suddenly the lights begin to dim
The smoky plumes, they clog my lungs
I’m drowning in a tank of slimy drool
I’m wet with hunger
Swimming with a million beefy men
A gush of pain flows through my head
I wonder who will share my bed
Its all mixed up and all too fast!

I puke and faint.
And with it all the world converges in a dot
They quickly drag my body towards the back
I’m three months pregnant and can’t make the rent
Where would she live?
How would I feed her?
How would she feel about my job?
The owner asks to redo my routine

I prep my outfit
I jump into the spotlight once again
The brothel’s rooms are full tonight
No room is left aside for second thoughts

World of Dreams – Funeral Procession of the Gay Lover

I miss your tender voice
Splashing on my face
At point blank
In the morning
Like lukewarm water
Cleansing the worries of yesterday

I miss your soft fingertips
Grazing through my hair
Like a farmer strolling through his field of corn
Gently choosing his steps
Towards the other side
Counting all the blessings on his way

I miss your deep and solemn silence
Staring at me as I sleep
With nothing to say, but so much to dream about
I awake and ask you to go back to sleep
That we may both share a dream together
In another place

We hold each other and cast ourselves into a sea of sleep
We swim together naked and unbound
In a world where we could stay together
A world where they would let us be
To share our love and watch it multiply
Without judgment nor special treatment
We settle down in a small shack on those distant hills
And make love until the end of time

Suddenly a ringing sound
Crumbles our constructed world as we awake
To realize another day has just began
Another lie that we must live
Amongst the people that we know

And time has passed,
It always does.
We move along, we move away
We age and life takes over
We marry and move on
Succumbing to a destiny
Imposed by social boundaries and what not

And after all this show
Ending in a funeral procession
I’m staring at a coffin
You sleep so gracefully but I shed no tears
Instead a deep and solemn smile is on my face
I hope you’re in that place of dreams
Preparing that small shack day by day
Waiting for me to join you
To live the dream
Of unrestricted love for evermore

Taxi Ride – Fantasies of the Sex Deprived Cab Driver

I pick her up,
Every night
At the curb

She waits for me
And I arrive
On the spot
Never late

I drive her through this concrete jungle
But in my heart
Another jungle is being driven
Towards the surface
It will explode
And with it a million unspoken words
Will be unleashed

I step outside to help her with her luggage
She lays a leg outside the cab
And pushes down with the other
Her gentle hands press hard against the door
She slams it shut
The glass inside me shatters

The wind picks up
It blows away the papers in her folder
I help her gather what she has lost
And in so doing I lose myself

I grab her,
Papers full of notes
I clutch them hard towards my chest
The more she screams
The more I race to grab her,
Papers with some scribbles
My sweat is smearing between her lines
Creating smudges that tell a different story
Of how our lives have intertwined
And how it’s bound to end in glory

As her skirt flutters
She yells with passion
“Quickly, Quicker!”
I grab her papers harder
They’re emptied now
And in their blankness
I hope to write
The story of our love affair

Instead she pays the taxi fare
And walks away
I realize the cab’s still on
And drive away

What’s wrong with me?
I sure as hell
Need to get laid

Another curb
Another stranger
Until I satisfy,
My lustful escapade

Marmalade & Toes – Story of the young widow

Fuck this.
I haven’t showered
For so long

My soul drenches in its own sweat
I’m treading over the remains
My small white feet
So cold and wet
Are ploughing through the mud
I feel it ooze
Between my toes
A gooey spread of marmalade

Where the fuck am I?
Last I remember I was in his hands
He smiled and let go of the wheel
We drifted for some time
And then a bang

The children in the back
I heard them cry
They stopped after some time
For quite a while
They never cried again
I wonder why

What the fuck!
He never touched me
Like he did her
They used to lay together
For the day
I used to lay the day together
For him to stay

Let’s dance bitch
I cut the breaks
With a smile on my face
I let go of the wheel
I staged it all
And so we crashed
And with us
All out bitterness
Exploded into pieces
All our memories
Were undone

But I survived
With a clean slate
To start again
A new beginning
Its sweet!
But I cannot seem to wash away
This dark red marmalade


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Eternal Gray – last testament of the junkie

Monstrous tentacles ploughing through my veins
Reaching into my deep thoughts at night
Hunting me relentlessly and without stop.
As I peer through the window sill
I catch a glimpse of light and smile,
Its been dark for quite a while
But somehow I still have not forgotten
How color looks like
Even though I now perceive the world,
In shades of gray
I guess that gray is a perfect mix
Between two ends that do not often meet
Or at least for me they don’t.
In its banality I feel at ease
Or probably rather more accustomed to
Why look for color?
When you can paint your life in gray
Why even bother to improve
When you can always use the gray
Into my veins it clenches tight
Onto my very blood cells
There is no need to fight
Soon even the color within me will disappear
And I will become one
With eternal everlasting mediocrity

International Disorder – rambling of the deranged scholar

(To be rambled very quickly)
Regardless of the debate regarding
the effectiveness of international legalization,
one cannot deny
from a descriptive point of view
that the cultural values of the renaissance
and enlightenment eras in Europe
act as the building blocks
of our modern international liberal order.

To the extent in which
the international normative environment
is contingent on the sociocultural values
of a specific form of polity
(that of Europe to be precise),
an anomaly arises
when such an international model is used
to govern diverse polities
with different understandings of social values.

One could assume
that only when an international order
that better reflects the notion
of uneven and combined development
comes into existence,
then such an anomaly can be solved.

In this respect we may conclude
that the current liberal order is anachronistic
with the logic of social evolution
and of humanity as a whole.

Bedroom Bliss – sonnet of the man in love

Combined with smiles and laughter I release
My inner anger spreads into the air

The stench of fear is overcome by peace
The calmness of an empty dragon’s lair

A smile so innocent from her lips so pure
Unclothes the pieces of my inner gloom
The more she smiles the more I feel secure
Undressing me as spring bursts into bloom

She shakes as I exchange her gentle touch
We mate and I ascend into a haze
The fire burns as we lay whole and clutch
Our passion keeps the dying flame ablaze

Forever seems to linger far away
All I ask for is another day