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Here
are some of my old poems from the collections
G-Major Prelude,
A Grayer Shade of Blue 
A Perfect Justice in the
World
A perfect dilution A perfect solution Of a problem A disillusion A conclusion Confusion
A grayer shade of pale A darker shade of blue A grayer shade of gray...
A perfect administration Of a medicine To all and anyone And wide, wide, wide by Huygens Principle One quark to every one In the world In real and virtual spaces alike
All have right to be glad and smile and avatar
A Dragonfly A Witch A Snow White
As Snow What As Snow Grey?` A grayer shade of pale A darker shade of blue A grayer shade of black
DESERT DUNES
Labyrinth trapped in a world of otherworldly maze she was searching marble emptiness searching running searching running and public otherworldly public was shouting from above her head [as if to lead her through the maze] hooray hooray hot cold cold cold hooray hot
what way was right? what voice was true? who's friends? who's foes? she she was searching endless emptiness on her own she was alone one in the world one in the maze one on the earth one who could not see herself from above and a Minotaur? __________________________________________________ An Old Song
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And Gods they admire wise men and saints
But they love singers where they sing and play*
How wouldn’t they.
Even we know knowledge
Yet we feel feelings …
We feel knowledge and
we know feelings..
As feelings need no reason …
Feelings reach the world first.
Expecting ones brains
Be stronger than ones soul
What a wishful thinking!!
Even Gods they admire wise men and saints
But they love singers where they sing and play
Yes, indeed //\\
*Actually, in Socrates’ discourse on the path of the soul in Plato’s Phaedrus, he says that those souls who catch the clearest glimpse of ‘real beings’ in the highest heavens before their first descent into a terrestrial condition begin their cycle of incarnations by living the lives of philosophers, musicians or lovers. These three lives are considered the best of a possible nine kinds – a range which falls towards the nadir in the life of a tyrant.
__________________________________________________ Bio - Logical .... Mereological ..... Song
In My Life as a Slime Mold I never know: who am I? Am I one? Am I m a n y? Others are given blessing of knowing. Knowing for sure… They see on me (see on us?) from above …. “Above” is p o w e r …. p o w e r of knowing …. W h o y o u a r e … w h o we a r e ……….. {If ……. we are … .one…. [ just in case]?} Smashed into p i e c e s could I be me? Could I be we? Who are we me?
Anyone?
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Game Over
“I
have seen with my own eyes the Sibyl hanging in a cage,
-- "Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak. " "What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? "
"I never know what you are
thinking. Think."
--
"Are you alive, or not? "
-- And we shall play a game of chess,
Pressing lidless eyes and
waiting for a knock upon the door.
-- Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight. Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
T.
S.
Eliot,
The Waste Land,
all the same, number 7 was significant. The 7th letter of the alphabet is G, Which stands for God. There are 7 continents, There are 7 oceans. In the 'Seventh Seal' the Knight plays chess with the Death,
His
Life depending "And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven" (Revelation 8:1). White against Black sides, Good versus Evil.
Should a lady
play dungeons
Should a decent
lady By the way:
"How
2007-10-25 11:27 PS Where have I been all these years? Any guess? _________________________________________
Anadyomene, Diana "Min egen Sjæls Gudinde, som alene bør lydes, hvis Navn er som en Salve, der duftende udgydes ... igennem Skum af Minder, som Storm og Strøm begraved, min Eva Afrodite er opstegen af Havet."
Sophus Claussen, Anadyomene,
Lyrik Diana Goddess of the hunt, with bow and arrow, Diana goddess of the moon, with a stag, Diana virgin goddess and an earth goddess, Diana - Artemis. Diana, twin sister of Apollo, goddess of the woodlands, Every grove was sacred to her! Goddess of nature, and of the harvest,
Diana guardian of springs and streams Goddess of Light, protector of the suffering, Diana healing goddess! Artemis, who nursed her own twin brother Apollo, Artemis of untamed spirit! Artemis Phoebe, the bright one!
Diana carrying a candle or a torch, And yet.. And yet cruel jealous Apollo tricked her into killing her dear dear Orion,
that distant object on the horizon to be hit with an
arrow.. [She was way too good an archer!]
"Wer, wenn ich schriee, hörte mich denn aus der Engel Ordnungen?" (If I cried out, who would hear me up there, among the angelic orders?) Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies
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Dance of the Seven Veils “In any other world You could tell the difference” (Mika, Life In Cartoon Motion, 2007) Yet in this single world here and now Differences seem to be fading away step by step Objects cluster and slowly vanish into flimsy fabric Of impervious veil of informational maya Behind yet seven veils of disinformational maya And so also on April 24, 2007 Or was it 25? - I don’t remember exactly again. Sorry. Someone else making sense? Just, just where am I now and what am I doing? A nameless unnamable world not responding to my call. Interestingly enough, tears seem to have a name. [Even though they never suffered themselves They were given an identity from the beginning!] Unlike Me! Unlike my world which I don’t seem to recognize. Anyhow. ||: [fine] So I say to my sister, Magistra Ludi, please note it: This leopard-colored toy purse from a hypothetic far-away country You say you bought on a bazaar for ten kunas (12 crowns or so by the way) Is just a print of a faceless exploitation [Hidden behind an impervious veil of informational maya Behind yet seven veils of disinformational maya] I will never forget! “My face is no sad” [Da cappo al fine]
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Jacob's Ladder
And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on
the earth, Angel of God descending on Jacob’s ladder a ladder to heaven or to the second floor He in all his divine beauty descending so slowly
He behind a bullet proof mask of just a bit confused smile
And I slowly go, I slowly go all the way up to my room,
So, confused by the first assault,
I close my eyes. It is about noon: an invisible
line dividing my day
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Fata Morgana
F. G. Lorca, Pequeño Vals Vienés
White long-necked swans heads slightly bowed I see an image of those eyes again Sad smile seeking to look encouraging and so ... I smile myself wary in return And I wonder
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Disenchantment suddenly vanished while viewing cherry blossoms matsuo basho
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Memory (haiku) Spring flower-beds hazelnuts hidden: squirrel! still remembers?...
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G-Major Prelude
As if in a Dream, Your Life... Your life is running ahead of you giving you a brief look askance are you awake or is it a dream? have you ever got a real chance to recognize before your inner glance by the same token a silent scream? are you awake or is it a dream???
it was your life!!! it was your Life
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Studio Scene, Fantasy A hollow clay jar with brushes empty canvas on my easel palette smells turpentine half transparent warm darkness through the curtains with blue and pink mawkish roses breath of air sometimes moon shadow slips down and continues on the tips of its toes... painting about to materialize oscillating between being and non-being
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Bagatelle Remember... Not all is so important The way the shadows cross the docks in the evenings while transatlantic ships eagerly await to start their journeys The reason why butterflies bear Euclidean prophetic signs Not much Not the fact that they played just just Chopin Haven't you noticed: Not much matters. Even if it would be true that hearts of the dead by necessity decay minerals continue to grow alternating with indifference as tides with high efficiency At night kerosene lamp will shed some tiny light sometimes Then the next day maybe It will be springtime ceremony for kite flyers Remember Not all is so important
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Sunflower Alley
Yellow Skies are bright yellow Leaves cadmium Girls golden locks Naples. The eyes mirror reflections & dream in yellow ochre: { Pale yellow grass meadow in sun: [ Wind slowly waves its vibrant lemon yellow poppies ] }
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Entirely Prosaic Impression You have no idea how empty violet-bluish contours of an evening can hurt in low voice as if the breeze expiring in the woodland says something ... hardly audible... teardrops in the teacup... Escape! No matter where! Escape! Worn to a green shadow green as someone's felt pen
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Summer Miniature II Night If possible even more immovable than ruthlessly betrayed lilies We are going to build sky high sand towers of green silicon dioxide crystals Some kid smiling will destroy the whole thing and we will laugh aloud (did I hear: no way? Let's start from the very beginning. Night.
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Don't Don't let me go don't let me disappear, dissolve in the vacuum full of zero-point oscillations don't let me turn to ice to crystal bowl of silent tears again to empty hollow jade jar don't let me fade away in mist See me tell me your name tell me.. tell me.. tell ...me
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EPISTLES to .. Summer Still Young Early June morning in gardens greenery in birds lovely singing in distant threat of an increasing distance in summer dress sitting on a veranda eavesdrop a deep calm relaxed dialogue in ample rooms where resonant walls sound making mirror reflection somersaults an early June morning is beginning
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Reading.. Broken pieces of heaven blue china on a sunny day Hours of flickering concentration in the night Cobwebs in the early morning's eyes So many... So many... So many incredibly lovely pieces blue china in my cobweb pockets.. I must avow - I am a rich lady Yes, I am. Indeed.
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Nach dem Ball No.13 (Gretchaninov)
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Beforehand Payment That is how I know you. You are what I know. Jeanette Winterson I did everything in advance [without ever knowing] Paid my dues in despair with no explanation at hand [without ever knowing] Cried and screamed and disintegrated under my own fury enraged, exasperated, disconsolate and all over again [without ever knowing] Vicious circle or perhaps perchance rather cirkus cirkör [without ever knowing] All into a context-free language form ababb...acacc...ababbbbb....ababb....... [without ever knowing] and so...finally petri netified.. no wonder... [at last learning] strange but all true!
Because truths we don’t
suspect
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Reality TV (10/1/2004)
I
spend much of my time
i live there in
that virtual world.
what i love about
it
is
oh, god help me i
really do belong to this
i can write a poem
Or, in French.. _______________________ Télé réalité Je passe beaucoup de temps de l’autre côté du miroir je vis dans le monde virtuel ce qui est bien dans tout ça que j’aime bien est que tout y possible. tout ce que j’imagine peut être là plato aimait ça aussi. le monde de l’autre côté du miroir monde idéal stérile sûr insaisissable malgré tout cela en fin de journée mon cœur revient vers ce monde plat euclidien trivial sale asymétrique dissonant prosaïque inexact irrégulier unique monde sur terre ordinaire et réel ce que j’aime pourtant en lui est qu’il y existe un consensus général minimal le mont everest est là où il est pour moi et pour rabindranath tagore et pour quiconque qui se sentirait concerné charme discret de la réalité incomparable charme des faits de la vie rien n’est aussi séduisant que les faits oh mon dieu je fais en fait partie du monde réel j’y appartiens réellement y retourne régulièrement lorsque j’en ai assez avec des idéalisations des illusions des vertus du virtuel lorsque je dois choisir je choisis toujours le pire je ne suis pas bête il ne s’agit que de l’amour en fait c’est difficile à expliquer je peux écrire un poème de l’autre côté du miroir un de ces clairs matins pendant que tout coule et plane gazouille et babille tout sauf mon cœur mon vrai cœur qui se trouve du côté du réel sanguinolent vulnérable comme la vie elle-même toute ma vie (Translated by my friend Suada Tozo-Waldmann)
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Life on the Nile As if left to crumble away infinitely slowly in the stone Returning to the sands of Saqqara Ramses the Great Amon Raa's protégé in Tales of schemer long ago commanding attention. Did commoners hope to live like kings in the afterlife? Here on the sunset bank of the Nile this moment gaggles of geese gilded by the sun dissolve in slowly supervening dark...
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A Winter's Day in March
E. Dickinson
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The Prisoners Dilemma Early Sunday mornings one might feel like imprisoned in the own cell in its nucleus and what is even more in its chromosomes and even deep in the DNA so twisted in a double helix One may feel chained and deserted exposed and vulnerable One may ask if determinism makes sense and why should I care at all It's none of my business, anyway,
I wouldn't say so!
Shall I be blamed? If yes - what for?
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GDC
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