Showing posts from 2011


Life is seeping away like water
Running through fingers 
Trembling with fear

Illusive lights 
Show the road untraveled 
Full of promise, new and enticing 

Blurry vision of days and years 
Slowly falling in memory pockets
To be retrieved some other time...


What can you do when you are chained to a speeding train that only accelerates. To jump off, continue with the insanity or find the way to soar free. 
If all the hours of pain and despair taught you anything it's to wait, hoping 'what if'. What if the next turn will have the answers you are looking for. Hope, peace, sanity.
Illusions are floating in the air even when there isn't any strength to hold on and you are just instinctively clutching at the last reason.
Survival is so deeply rooted that it wouldn't let you go easily even in the darkest of moments. 
What makes us endure, stand up from broken knees over and over again, against all odds, against time and ourselves hiding deeper and deeper begging for mercy of an oblivion, from past, present, memories, faces...
But tireless carousel is spinning ever so faster, and world outside is just a set of blurry images of what was, is and will be...


Sometimes it's small and non-intrusive. It follows you around quietly without an argument. You hardly notice it exists. 
At times it's bigger and more pronounced. You see it when taking photos under the bright sun in short winter afternoons. It's stepping in in front of you to make a point.
And then the time comes when it starts to hover above you where it's getting harder to ignore it. It covers your sky, just a small part at first,  then slowly spreading like a big stain and taking away the sun and the sky, taking away warmth, light, color,  playing with your mood and finally getting your full attention.
It starts sipping through your pores, getting inside even deeper. You are suddenly very aware of the probing intruder searching for something with its alien fingers. The cold is invading you like a doubt, occupying your waking thoughts, not allowing to forget its presence even for a minute...
till the next sunny day that is suddenly here washing away all the dark spo…


World is too crowded.
You notice it when it starts to make you claustrophobic even in the wilderness.
It leans on you with all the people, buildings, vehicles and endless excessive noise depriving you of the minimal personal space that is just yours.
Everything and everyone seem to be carelessly infringing on it at all hours of the day and night.
Too many, too much...
Getaways from it are through and back the same thick layer you need to squeeze in in order to briefly escape and then soon return so they seem more and more unreachably illusional in its temporal status that only enhances the feeling of being forcibly trapped in the world that is too close to breathe.
You start to run and hide in the corners of yourself.
More often than not. To live with the sense of being watched and heard you learn to speak to yourself quietly inverting all your being, keeping eyes only on necessary. 
Sometimes you'd stop to notice the change in season, distractive colors, the sky that is ever more…

Deep sleep

What used to be 
may never return
May hide in shadows 
Sleep deep inside 
Where you will need 
all the light of sun
to see its contours 
Burnt in recesses 
with colors and taste
Though always there 
However scared 
to come to surface 
And Be


When touch of autumn promises the end 
of scorching heat, 
long days in green and blue, 
the fading echo of cicadas song
with skies so close 
you almost touch the fabric 
and brush aside clouds 
to see the sun
We linger outside hesitating 
to go back home
Prolonging the experience
and hoping 
This time winter 
will forget to come

Just a thought

Some things will stay with us or go 
And vanish slowly out of sight
Transform reality we know 
To someone's anguish or delight

All memories will slowly fade
To our sorrow and dismay
To come again and be reborn 
One freshly crisp and sunny day


Somebody shouting, roaring motors are up and about, people are scurrying around, and cicadas make this screeching sound in a desperate attempt to find mates.
It's busy and loud... and lonely like hell.
Inner emptiness is clouding the sky, greying it and making it cry sad tears. 
Life goes about and not everyone is a part of it. We all try of course, to navigate this temperamental river, giving up and coming back for more. 
Driven by hope, despair or fear to be left behind we try and try till the last straw breaks urging to let go.
Does this desperate run has an ounce of a meaning?
Does it help make things better for someone? 
Are we kidding ourselves in a futile attempt to find significance in endless monotony of hours to be lived and done with?

Cicadas are having a break. 
Shiny Moon looks reproachfully down on all of us lost in a sleepless abyss 
still hoping...
Introducing New Literary escapades 2 prose: 'The Big One comes on Friday' (completed)


Must sleep under sound of rain And dream of things to happen Slowing down to remember Before it is too late


Who's not asleep? Who won't let Sunday go? Who's dreams are a reflection of the day That hasn't started yet But promises the world...

A walk in time

Is it possible to have a nostalgia for times you haven't lived in or being too young to remember?.. Why is it then your heart aches a little at every appearance of certain scenes or sounds of music tune?.. Memories of the past that aren't even yours. How is it even possible to relate this much?.. Is it something imprinted in your genes...
Once in a while you long to return there, walk the streets, smell the air, feel the vibe, see people at the peak of their youth... A surreal time travel where anything is possible in an excitement of anticipation.
Stepping in, finding your way around, siting in a small cafe on a warm summer afternoon and watching people go about their business, all the while knowing you are just a guest, a visitor, an occasional passerby and roads are open to you in any direction.
Walking familiar streets and seeing them in a different light.
Listening to an old song in its first release. Watching a movie though knowing the ending and still be surprised. Enjoyi…


Why do we hope and dream in the middle of the most unbearable experiences...
Life hurts, leaving scars dividing us from our own past.
Memories fade but remain hidden underneath,
waiting to be unleashed at the moment of weakness
when pictures will be so sharply vivid, so painful to touch.
And still... this unexplained need to go back
and look at the long lost realities persists.
Life is an insane run, desperate, breathless
with almost no time to stop and look back...
or notice those who fell behind.
With the wind in the ears, blinding sun,
and burning in the flames of autumn maple leaves.


Nowhere to run
World's too small
Time - short
Out of breath
Behind stars


Like dinosaurs watching the asteroid hit the Earth, helpless to comprehend or prevent the inevitable, we live in our small worlds until the unspeakable happens destroying life as we know it.
And what left is - just to watch in quite desperation what unveils next, wiping away surroundings, getting closer and closer, with the hot breath on our lips, until the last glimpse of light will fade dragging away memories, consciousness, the self...

Evasive tomorrow

Life won't ever be the same from this day forth. 
No matter how far we'll go without looking back. It's not even over yet. The crashing change that makes you see the darker side once again when you thought these times are far behind.
You can't turn your back yet. It lingers in the shadows with uncertain promises and cold reality freezing your mind that races endlessly from the point to point in time - back and forth - from before to after.
 'The way it used to be' isn't happening, it's long gone, left behind the rubble of the past to only be revisited in memories.
 Pain and sorrow haven't yet sunk in deep enough. 
It'll all come later, the true realization of the scale of this loss, 
it'll take your breath away, filling the heart with unbearable struggle 
to answer one crucial question - Why?
Like fragile steps on the sand washed away with an afternoon tide, 
life itself seems so small and insignificant. 
Evening sun on an empty shore in cau…

March 15, 2011, Tokyo

In the pitch of night, speeding further away
Blurry images melt and merge
To create an elaborate patchwork and stay
Long after they seize to surge

Chasing crazy wind, on the edge of nerves
Exhausted with dangerous path
With uncertain dreams of the times to come 
Where the day at a time is enough

Winter song

I'm dreaming in my winter cocoon Of warmer, sunnier times Gliding across the sleepy Moon With colorful butterflies
Under the blanket of piling snow Wishing for greener days Open roads to the unknown In all the infinite space

To a friend

Wishing you snowy dreamsSweeping away the pain
Wishing you golden sun
Drowning in blue of day

Feather-like touch of wind
Ease and freshness of sleep
Cradling you in its arms
Bringing the hope of spring...