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thoughts & prose fragments
Lost in the mists of time
Once there were hope and nightingales' songs. There were citadels made of dreams and moonlight. But like so many other things, they have been lost in the mists of time. The sky fosters a bitter silence that comes from soulless stars and fallow gardens. The sorrow stained clouds will remain. And I know everything is unreal, but I just want to feel. The emptiness keeps breaking my heart. And I break the mirrors. You shouldn't look at my reflection. The tears I hide, the darkness deep inside - you can never know.
If only...
I fall asleep underneath ceilings full of dust and cobwebs. In rooms with locked windows, without doors. Strangers lay next to me. Whisper my name. I send them away before dawn.
During the twilight hours, I usher the last stars back on their sky, a sky that does not care for me. That it does not know of me. I wish I could sing. There are so many things I'd be able to tell you. If you visit me in my dreams, I will show you.
Cyprus: The Sky is too dark
They came one day with guns and told us our country didn't belong to us. They took our houses and our lands. They shot those who resisted. They captured the moon and tortured it until it bled silver. Friends and relatives fell like tree leaves in the autumn. We grew up with an invisible, yet impenetrable wall that wouldn't let us stand in the ground that was ours. I saw the soldiers. I saw their guns. I felt the pain and their hate. Time didn't bring relief. It didn't bring peace. Only oblivion. For less people care now. They've accepted thing as they are. It is easier for them. But there is still a hollow place inside of us. Still a black spot where the moon used to be.
Cyprus: The green black line that divides the sun
I remember once, Holy Saturday it was. We were around the church with candles in
our hands. Only half a step away from the border. I turned my head and I saw the
gun. The hands looked so friendly. So familiar. But you held a gun, not a
candle. And it was pointed at my heart. Unbending, life consuming hate wrapped
in metal. So cruel.
What a job you have my brother. Did you choose to be there dividing us eternally
or where you chosen and trained to hate us? We learn to hate you too. We were
chosen... when the stars were refused a place in their sky, when our homes were
taken so violently thirty-something years ago.
Have you been standing there since? How much longer will you stay?
You won't let us cross, let us go home. You blow our candles, outside the
church. Frozen I stare at you. And maybe I don't believe in God, but the light
was real and now it's gone.
My brothers how could you?
Summer Tale
Underwater light falls like a feather; the sun-rays drip and spill all around.
The sun's turning orange and crimson, burning the sky with the last of its light, before slowly fading to the infinite night.
She is white like porcelain with green/blue/purple eyelids. She has fallen asleep, naked on the sand.
We've been running all day. Underneath the sea-waters.
It's alright, she said. You can breathe. We are mermaids.
We can reach farther and farther, with figures ever-stretching,
ever-reaching and minds ever-wondering, ever-searching.
Just breathe.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Now she's lying next to red poppies and golden gravel. I kiss her lips and pay her in sea-shells and summer berries. I have to leave before she wakes up and swallows me whole, with her red-coral-hands and carnivorous starfish eyes.
