| Never been in city Noir, kind of lured to see your place - no detail should be ignored: whether shaking hands or a gaze... not a lot of words or actions, only thoughts intend to turn into feelings and emotions to attract excitement's thorn... clinging at the edge of essence, walking between scenes of crime, playing a hapless grifter presence, you detect the private eye... like a policeman, plain clothes, found the evidence - a card! a gift of poem's enclosed - witty, excellent and smart. | |||
| ...crumpled, squeezed in stagnation, skeletal muscle cramp, stunned by objective reality, repeating itself with persistence of spam, processing the present through the rhythm, found in Phillip Glass music - thirds and triads ostinato - pause - to hear the pattern pulse. Another reality an encounter, a synchronicity sign - the hungry coyote... a trickster, shape-shifter, transformer, high sensory wired, no tricks between us, we often contrary surrounded by buzz: too brave - a form of fear, a loud laugh or prayer, and weeping while happy in sync. Instincts. Trust them every split second, filled by breath, absorbed by new flare, of lost essence... what is that? how it tastes? firm? - we will fight it, soft? - not worth to attend. Burping, sighing, clinging for peaceful intent to deliver an instructive story, connect with reality here to teach us the endurance in a face of delay without acting, just stay to keep an energy and breath steady, to listen to any alternative thought... we need the pause, the silent mode. | |||
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What a sense of living? How to change the pattern? All world's moving nowadays for worse or better. 'Just wanna this beach NOW!' it feels...it sounds...how? Memory brings old times' vacations, trips... Traveling train uploading passengers, platform's crowded, my mom - the proud one, loud applause, first time I'm on the trip alone. A conductor announces: the train departs, greeters, please, leave the cars... I'm waving goodbye to the inner child of mine, that granted time, lovely, forgotten... Tight coupe, calming tea in the glass with coasters, strangers become closer, sharing the toasts, the talk and good luck, playing the cards... Taking the nap under the lullaby: steady soft rhythm orchestral wheels... crossing the border security cry during the night: 'stand up where you are' - and back to the dream... sleep till darkness, swallowed by dawn, burning sparks imprinted in glass picture of window frame in transitional traveling train... | |||
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Short day. So bright. Closed blinds. The sun's so high between the lines, meridians at North Hemisphere here, my skin gets dry, I feel a thirst of all cells, squeezed to smile and enjoy new makeover... defragmented... the small bits, stuck behind a diaphragm, knock in my heart - lower back pain, inner child cry, being archived, now released... under the skin new DNA crystal grid been activated - the flower of Life... now, ready to fly, hitching to rising sun my sled... riding with the natural course of events in New Era! | |||
| Aka vessel of wine the red strongest extract filled the body of mine your holistic impact kid me - not: couple cups kept the flame of possession, when you worked to release an inflammation in a session to restore the balance, and to ground an approach wooden board served as a scale for reality coach. | |||
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You think... if only everything could happened like in your dream: the right key on the right time open all the doors, and on the other side your world accept all rules and rituals for happy life... would you be satisfied then? for how long? guess.. until you catch the magic new spark at the corner of your eye... | |||
| ...next comes Cupido, full of Love, reminds about feelings, asking out, and begs: do not give up, be open to receive the Love is beckoning to you at very next fork at the road... | |||
Mild cold,
should the weather has excuses...
snowfall forecast as accurate
as Maya's data!
Winter vigorously introduces
new snowflakes design
by divine author.
Pine trees - boasters,
stretching prickly twigs,
strew the white invite
to crows,
pointing to
snow decor antiques,
wrapped in a cozy
winter clusters.
Too much snow,
piled up by the wind,
cars're snow-bound,
dreaming of new
winter tires,
slightly drifting as if
boats at the piers
at the boulevard
of false believes,
gone in eternity
the happy trials...
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Sunday pattern, wrapped in the fog, paint an images in sepia tone, plunge the brush in the heart, soaring above the clouds... a courage raises, prompts to a pathway, down, where hectic events are unfolding... overwhelmed, the crows, trying on different voices, wearing foreign hats, rehearse the main choral at the portal of new dimension... ...emerge, come to surface all, who can... trying to sort celebrities and not - test the intellectual boundaries, built to check, who dare enough to destroy them... the soul exhales freely - Saturn moved away from my sign - I'm risking to chase love and life - it's never felt so exciting... whatever the thought - insights arrive with one horned Pegasus... | |||
