beg for more

Out of legendary fantastical past tense,
things worshiped in violence,

amazing creatures that never made sense,

and outwardly sights that spanned the horizons,

we broke free,

we broke our idols,

and now we beg for more.

hope you know how to build Igloos !

Not much said, not much at all,
it't not much to say,
as simple as loosing your way,
and towards where the winds throw you,
fall...

sands

sketched 4 days ago, shot & painted on the 2nd of May

Too much had passed, too much foretold,
of swords, of fallen ones, shields and banners,
Honor, trust, belief and faith,
too little to grasp, much less to hold,
sands, dust, and firestorms,
brazen, blazing horns,
this life holds a future untold.

of what to expect

I have no hold on the future,
nor will I tell you my past,
I only live in the present,
this present of which you asked,

many faces, many places,
many questions and wonders I have had,
not much answers,
not many that would last,

I do not know what to do with my self,
I'm spell bound, attached,
I take if freely given,
and give back with chains in hand.

to be continued,
* can't remember exactly when i wrote this, but i think it's from early 2010

a fast moving thing,...

when i was fourteen, still exploring my new found world, still wondering about this new place i was in, i was once walking what looked to me like a desolate road, lots of sand on both sides, and lots of wreckage everywhere, not a soul to be seen, i can’t recall what i was thinking about, but i do remember what i felt, i was down, i was upset, i was looking at my feet as i walked, not really paying much attention to anything around me, and for an unknown reason, i kicked something i know i didn’t see, or even realize what i was kicking, it entered my vision as a fast moving ... thing, that just sped up ahead, the way it moved caught my eye, it was moving in a straight line, didn’t waver, didn’t bounce, and just cut through all the sand a debris without being stopped, stopping, i followed it with my eyes till it lost it’s momentum and fell to one side,

i moved towards it, i still couldn’t tell exactly what it was, it did seem like some kind of disk, or something,...

hastily i walked/ran to it, and i found it in the dust, a solid earth brown globe, it was solid stone, it’s surface was near perfect, almost flawless, it’s oddly symmetrical globular surface was poked, but not in a way that made it any less perfect, it was a perfect ellipsoid, with a perfect circular diameter, i marvelled at it for i time i cannot remember, i thought about how odd this stone was, as i have found it in a street, obviously not man made, i kept thinking about how many miles did that stone roll through to gain that shape, a shape that to my teen eyes looked very much like what the earth looked like, i was so mesmerized with it, and how it’s weight fit perfectly in my hand, i cleaned it up and put it my school bag, and headed home,...

when i was twenty three, i remember finding a sort of holder for it, it seemed to crown it, i had just applied to Architecture school, and was tasked with a what it seemed back then to us, a difficult project, i remember being up all night for more than 3 days thinking about that project, until one moment i noticed that i had placed that stone on an amber glass ashtray, and that the light was playing inside the amber glass in a way that made the stone catch my imagination again, to my eyes it seemed like an awesome dome with a huge party filled with lights underneath it, and Bam! i had an idea, and not only an idea for the project, but as i held that stone in my hand, i felt it’s familiar weight and symmetry whispering to me again, i felt like i had had one of the secrets of this world in my hand, and all i had to do was look for it, touch it, feel it, and let it out,...

in the following years, i recall thinking a lot about that stone, and how i never got to the point of designing that first building i saw in it, i came close at times, but never the original idea, always when i had in my hand, i would float off to another thought, it’s perfect weight and symmetry somehow stimulated me and calmed my usually contradictory thoughts, ...

it became my dream-stone,

every time i can remember my self finding a good solution to some problem, or a way to understand some bizarre thing i had to face, it was there, in my hand, or just in my eye sight,

it made for a great handy hammer as well, and a wonderful if a bit insane decoration to my room,

when i was thirty, i remember sharing it’s secrets with a friend, i remember him being startled as it worked it’s magic on him, and what was a discussion about his fucked up love life, transmuted into a discussion about how insanely amazing this stone was, and how it’s proportions and weight were so perfect it was almost unbelievable that it was not man made, ... it did the trick.

during all these years that i have had it, i almost never allowed anyone to touch it, i was more protective of it than anything else i owned, only this friend of mine, maybe an ex. or two, but generally i never allowed anyone to much around with it, ...

until two or three months ago,

i had met someone,

the day i showed it to her, was a very special day for us, the minute i put it in her hand, i knew it fit her, as perfectly as it fit me, and for the first time ever since i had found my dream-stone, i wanted her to have it,...

she wouldn’t take it, i tried and tried till she took it, and i told her that from this day, this stone is hers, i told her what it was, and how dear this piece of earth is to me, ...

for a month that stone was not in my room, the first month ever,

and i was happy to know that she had it, i hoped it worked it’s magic for her, the way it did for me, i was ok with letting her have my dreams, to fit them in her hand, and hopefully find the weight reassuring, and steadying,...

the months passed by,

one night, she called me after a terrible fight, and wanted to pass by to drop something by,

i knew what she was bringing back, i told her to not bring it back, to keep it, to throw it back into a desolate street, i couldn’t take that back, i couldn’t take back a dream that was once mine then freely given, ...

after a long long night, she won the argument,

i was freaked that she had put it in a box, a little black box with a star in a circle in top of it, i freaked that she had locked it up, inside a box, when i have never put in anywhere but “out there for all to see”, her answer to that was that she kept her dear things in a box, while i kept my dear things in the open, ... she couldn’t understand how upset i was about stuffing a dream a thought a feeling into a box, we were too different,

i took my dream-stone and kept it in her magic-black-box, as a symbol of keeping things the way she wanted them, for now, ... or so i told her,

things between us went downhill from that night,

in a couple of weeks, i found my self taking my dream-stone out of her black-box, washing it clean from her perfume, closing the box, and putting it in a partition next to the one with my stone in, ... i couldn't bring my self to throw away her box, nor did i want her perfume all over my stone,

now, after a while, after i had almost forgotten about that box, and had kept my self busy as not to think about her,

i find my self not opening her empty box, i don’t want her scent to come out, and wear away, or that i would get used to smelling it again, but mostly i fear it evaporating the moment i open that box, the same way i have avoided looking inside me at what has happened between us, as if I'm afraid i would wear out that memory, i do not want to touch that memory, for fear that it would become less,

her magic-black-box is still right next to my stone, which now smells again like coffee, tobacco and paint,

i still smell her sent when i walk past the black box,

i ignore it,

and move on,

or so i say.

sketch drawn and added on 04.11.2010
didn't feel like showing you my real dream stone ;)

i'm going home...

we talk,
we connect,
we walk,
and our paths intersect,
we sat cross legged, under the stars, in a bubble that is ours,
the deeper we looked into our selves, the more of each other did we see,
we smile,
we reflect,
we laugh,
and no one can interject,
we held each other dear and near, against other’s frozen eyes,
we don’t understand it yet, but there is just not a trace of fear,
we look,
we detect,
we laugh together, all over again.

26th of Sep. 2009
26th of Jan. 2010,
20th of Jun. 26th of Jun. 30th of Jun. 2nd of Jul. and every other day since,...

and the truth shall set you free

Through glazed eyes i can see,
the daemon that is inside of me,
the blazing evil about to break free,
to hunt them down for all eternity,

as i look in the mirror, to what was once me,
should i stand aside, as i watch me destroy thee?
my soul is mine, how much more will i pay to be free,
keep your enemies closer, to this i agree,

i am only what you make of me,
to you i'm only the reflection that you see,
to the mirror, that i told you is me,
i might be anything i will it to be,

i'll pore out my honor, regretfully,
i'll grab on with both hands to that which hurt me,
i'll let it burn through me, till you all see,
to slay the beast, a beast you must be.

Thursday 14th Jan 2010 1:10 am

in the sun

I'm but a mirror to what you might see,
i'm only all what you see in me,
nothing more than an exact shadow,
of the outline you deem is me,

my heart, my soul, my love,
my future, my past, and my current day,
all that you at this moment can see,
is a shifting paradigm of light over moving ground, a pedigree,

i cannot help who is me,
i cannot ask you to always agree,
i can only ask you to join me in a meadow,
for only the sun can really show you me.

14.12.2009 5:19 pm

redundant

Nothing good will come out of this, i fear,
always telling, a sad story, i hear,
what do you search for, what do you seek,
more of your intent?, more proof that the world is bleak?

a perfect conversation,

She storms into the room,
I pause,
she calmly informs me of nothing,
I nod and thank her for that,
she screams her fears, almost crying,
I ask her why,
her heart explodes with agony,
she blames me for everything,
I ask her again,
she turns around,
slams the door behind here,
and I thank her for that,
I resume.

and a child shall lead them ...

something about a baby's smile just puts things into perspective for me, the way they look at the world with that unfocused gaze, and suddenly smile, just drives home the point for me,
it's not about the now, the now is too much of a mess to really do anything with it but move on,
and if the now is so transient, then the past entirely looses significance, and much of it's weight,
the past also becomes the womb of which we had just left behind, still a little too close for close examination,
the future is what remains,
ah yes,
the future,
as vague as it might be, only babies seem to see it with those unfocused eyes, and what they see makes them smile, and that is a hopeful sign,
if it makes a baby smile, it just can't be bad,
and if the present is this transient, and the past too close, well ...
it only leaves the future open,
maybe with a little less focus on our worries, insecurities, and fears,
maybe we too can smile.

thank you, Maryam Akram Ghalib Bikzadeh (my long time accomplice's little girl and my God Daughter :D )
even if you might not know it, you have made my day with that smile, i hope that one day, you might teach us things, and thingies ... and thingie thing thingies ...

on the origin of species

We dream,
we hope,
we fear,
we lie,
we rage, then we act,
we believe,
we connect,
we don't understand,
we project,
we expect, yet get hung on fact,
we talk,
we walk,
we love,
we don't communicate,
we react, and hardly ever interact,
we hurt,
we bleed,
we hate,
we avenge,
we take revenge, with disregard to who is being attacked,
we watch,
we learn,
we sow,
we reap,
we assume, and we never wonder if we are, actually intact.

forsight

Too close ..
too close ,
too damned hurting bleeding close
too much of the same,
your pain resonates with mine ...
inflames it into a blazing fury, gnawing at my armor from the inside, turning the beast loose.
this I cannot allow .
I fought too long to barely mute mine, I can't make it go away, I merely mute it .. tone it down into something that could periodically be ignored, and grant me moments of precious rest.
I have been in this cycle for far longer than you have been, I know exactly how you feel, I know precisely what you face, I know, I have lived and ached through the pitfalls that await you, every single one of them, every poisonous thorn, cut, slash and ache that you face, I have been through , over and over and over thrithe times your journey was mine, forgive me if I cannot bare no more, I must flee you like the plague that you are to me.
I don't blame or hate you, I fear how your pain would affect me, I would bleed for you I would be there to take your hand and pull you over the pitfalls so out of you vision, I would pull the thorns out from your torn and ripped body, I would pull your torn remains back together and make you whole and well again,
I would do that and more,
only if ...
shh..sh...
do you hear that ? Just nod if you do .. it's faint I know ... but you could try .. yes .. yes you finally hear it .. the horrid moaning the insistent wrenching sound ... it's noting to fear ... it's you! *chuckles* yes it's you my dear .. just in beast form .. you haven't recognized your self have you ? It's hard at the beginning, hard to believe, and harder yet to admit .. listen to me *gets angry* Listen to me! Don't fear it, don't run away .. for whatever you believe in's sake you cant run if you tired! , haven't you heard or understood anything I said ? It's YOU! You can't runaway from yourself! And don't cringe from me .. you are the danger .. not me, not yet at any rate .. Listen .. i'm trying to help you, against everything I know I am actually doing this ... now stop interrupting and listen, first step is to stare right back at it, don't turn away ... it's you, you can't be afraid of your self, just use that logic for now... it's comforting,
now .. force yourself to the second step, recognition ... identify yourself, beware of that , it is you, true .. but it's not the you you want to be nor the you you should be, it's just the you that is .. you must not fall in love with the beast, only identify it.
Now that you know and identify the beast in you, it's time to admit that you are not fully human, you are half beast also ... all of us are , at the beginning,
you cant talk yet ...don't worry, it wont stay that way, you may not feel it now but you had the entire cavern wall fall on you when you took that last turn ... two of your limbs are torn and shredded ... moderate damage , your last partner, probably? I saw some youngster shrieking away in beast from , headed back towards the labyrinth ... sounds familiar ? .. not very important just this minute, how fortunate are you to be found by me .. me of all the wanderers is yet to be seen, I honestly don't know .. now you need to understand that you are hurt, badly hurt, that makes the beast surface, become in control, the only way to restore you again is to calm down ... I need to use your own strength against your wounds, nothing else would work, so work with me ..agreed?

written on Saterday morning, 5.1.2008

in responce to the grave digger's first letter

So why am I upset ?

Why am I twisting my self into knots, bending over backwards, and managing to keep blaming my self, soul and entire existence for something I cannot logically be held accountable for ?

And why do you even ask me ?

It's not as if you give a rat's ass what happens to me, my psyche or my emotional balance ?

Dear, you see me as a whore, and sometimes you see me as your mother, more often than not you see me unreachable, impenetrable glazed solid rock,

and you treat me as such ...

So why am I upset ?

Oh I'll take any blame you throw at my feet, gobble it up and lick my lips in most whorish way I can make up just for you, I'll even let you look at me in mesmerized disgust for as long as you want, and when you ask me to do it again,

I will, just to entertain you ...

I'll let you see me in the most malignant light your sick imagination can cast on me, as long as you feel better and happier, hey ... it's your kick , your mind, your soul that's going to burn in the deepest shithole in the deepest level of whatever hell there is,

So why am I upset ?

it's because I am a whore, I am your mother and I love you.

The grave digger's mother.
4.1.2008

Important for a minute ...or so.

Death begets life, and life begets death, why do we fear either, why can't we see it

i can only blame my self, i should only blame my self, only i could be blamed, only i can carry this weight that i have so masterfully crafted to suite and fit and lodge precisely over my own two shoulders, mine and mine alone, how could i ever consider my self anything but a failure, how could i see anything other than the "could have been", or hang it over the "should" have been , sound indigent about it, firmly and resolutely defending a crumbling wall , all what remains of something i cannot recall anymore, only a dim memory of a beauty my conscious mind is aware that it could have never existed, should have never existed, making others believe in visions i cannot see anymore , i cannot hear anymore, i cannot even dream of anymore, do i lie? no, i just describe each moment exactly how i see it, with every nuance and detail in infinite descriptive behavior , pretty boring and should be outlawed if you ask me ....but apparently the only thing I'm good at, not that I'm personally convinced, they call me a visionary , they hail my analytical prophesying , and all i see is the idiocy of the others , and my personal self made fallacies , the only thing i actually accept and understand is that i know nothing ...and it drives me insane to see others claim knowledge, enough ranting, time to get back to work.

extract from an anonymous diary by some grave digger who was important for a minute ...or so.

August 19th 2007
I once could make the steel sing, now my fingers would bleed,
i could build castles in the air , plant the expanse with multitudes of green , now only bare sand and rock could be seen, and some rubble in the sheen.
i could stand in the freezing wind naked and warm and sing to the wind, now my heart would yearn for warmth in the sun,
i could hold and contend with a hundred foes , now one friend would be the worst of my fears,
i would storm the walls of the mightiest keep, plant my standard high, now i wonder if i could lay down a trench and die,
once i could see one path so sharp and clear , now i can see a thousand steps ahead sprouting like clusters of weed, none sharp and non clear.
i could touch and taste, feel and express, now i sit, watch and hope that i don't remember,
i could hold and love, believe in my own dreams, now i can only let go,
a heart once warm and full, turned now to shiny stone .. has become an example that i would use,
i still sing
i do bleed
i will watch, touch and feel
i still dream
i do need
i will love, hate and scream
it's just that now it hardly seems that it's me.

I ride, i ride, through the western tide,
i stare at the sunset, let evil things hide,
i yearn for joys that cannot be, will not be, so long as they hide
firelight, body warmth, laughter and the loyal company,
night be outside the hearth,trust and love that you find in me,

I turn, i turn, around what is now a burn,
i feel the darkness waiting, what-nots inside,
i long to see them, to free them, yet from fear of me they will hide,
faith that is shaken, light that will fail, and they huddle before me,
dark be outside my heart, hope and warmth that i bring with me,

I hide, i hide, from the morning blaze,
i know the light shall burn, the evils inside,
i reach for my mask, helm hauberk and shield, in the light i hide,
shadows i cast, dreams i dream, inside my armor, inside me,
dark be inside my heart, for those i love, i carry them in me.

song of the flame that lives.
19th of April 2007

long overdue

sometime in September 2006
Hurt ..
hurt ..
raw throbbing pain,
panic,
the last fragments of the old discipline,
were needed, to not allow that final link to break,
he cannot allow that ,
already too much has been lost, too much anger too much pain,
a sagging shoulder blade is pathetically quivering to rise,
pitiful .. how could it take all what was ever his energy stores just to gather his stray thoughts, only to indicate a status he already knows so well,
he was broken, torn and ripped in so many places that his acute senses could not keep track of where the pain stimuli was emerging from, all was a bloody haze, all signals to his brain were messed up, confused in a manner that was so much unlike the self he knew as his own, it was his worst nightmare, his worst expectation, the unthinkable all rolled into one, and it had happened..
but he was alive, as illogical as that state should have been,
he was still alive ...
faintly aware of that,
dangerously close to loosing what grip he had on what was left of himself,
but against all odds his life has not ended .

note: related to "imprint and a short story"

Barren

16/3/2006
Amazing, just amazing
all ends, all rends
fictional revalations ...
she .... ,
it always seems to begin with a she,
revolve around a she ...
she walks in scilence,
face cast downwards,
looking for her misplaced toil..
it's just a fictional thing,
i feel barren, unable to produce
only can confuse ..
**

Why do we do what we do?
what forces drives us, what madness lurks within us

Ashes

when every step you take is in a direction you have not foreseen
a direction you resent, with consequences unseen
when every voice you make is a command
for more things to go awry and not withstand
when silence becomes bliss
while you try so hard not miss
when anger is your constant friend, sorrow your unwanted companion
when nothing seems right anymore when no one is there anymore,
when it's almost too dark to see
where you thought you would never be
just then when it's as bad as it can ever be ..
it gets bloody worst