Misplaced

After a year, everything seems still to be misplaced.
Like a carton of white milk outside the refrigerator, a Vogue subscription form lying wet on the bathroom, a camera inside the wardrobe, books under the table, dolls upside down, keyboard near the empty wrapper of instant cappuccino. Broken sofa on the crowded street.

Your messages, dated almost a year ago.
I still have them completely. Like stamps of dead philatelist but also like lyric of an instrumental song.
Your face, his face, my fate.

My little heart.

After a year, everything seems still to be misplaced.

A Very Short Prose about Rain

Rain is the most inspiring phenomenon in life. More than volcano, more than meteor traveling as a shooting star. Rain is blessing for the earth.

10. It is He who sends down rain from the sky: from it ye drink, and out of it (grows) the vegetation on which ye feed your cattle. 11. With it He produces for you corn, olives, date-palms, grapes and every kind of fruit: verily in this is a sign for those who give thought.
(An-Nahl 16:10-11)

***

And rain is blessing for the heart and mind. Especially mine.

Everytime it rains, it feels like I can draw a thousand words. About everything: About reality or reverie. About the present, or memories. About life, or suicide.

That is because rain helps me to feel more about everything: Warmer about the chill. More painful about pain. More lonely about being heartbroken, and far from home.

That is because, when it rains, everything becomes blurry so I don’t believe my vision as much as usual.
That’s when I sense my favorite:
the tone of raindrops,
the smell of wet ground,
the chill of the still,
and the taste of coffee.

I believe in you, Michael. The way I believe in Azrael.

This Morning was Perfect

This morning was perfect:

News was bad,
sky was dark,
bread was stale

Empty plate and dirty spoon,
rippled shirts and dusty window,
the old gramophone,
and swinging sixties melody

Nothing was in the right place;

My red heels,
our black & white Polaroid,
my mind

This morning was perfect.
Let’s get out of this city
Don’t die today
I’m calling you

She Doesn’t Care It’s Raining II

She sits together with loneliness
Where she is protected from the rain
But not from the coldness that absorbed
Into her every cell and referie

She sits with empty pockets
But still she can watch
Couples, wet, and in love
And her stomach just growls

Sigur Rós still sings Sæglópur
She wants to be bleeding just now
Who needs umbrella? She needs cutter
And she doesn’t care it’s raining

both I & II were made in October 23rd, 2007

She Doesn’t Care It’s Raining I

It’s when she is waken up in the morning
By the imaginary smell of hot tea
And the Arctic Monkeys’ intro
From the On-All-Night-Long PC

It’s when she puts on her skirt
Oversize tees + Spongebob backpack
And later she realizes it’s her fat day
And bad hair day also

Where is her Vans shoes?
She should go to his house
And steal some Rufio’s tunes,
A kiss and cheese cookies

So after that she can run
To a place where numbers are figured out
To look for some loves
And she doesn’t care it’s raining