This post is written in the memory of my beloved father Ioan Galasiu who passed away 24 years ago. My mother was 36 at that time, she had the age I have now. I was 12 years old then, young enough to not realise what was happening, old enough to remember everything for the rest of my life.
If I could I would bring roses to my father, as he loved them so very much. But since I am so far away I bring him the roses of thought and I remember him with all my love.
Every year when Christmas is near I humbly remember what was then and I try to imagine what may have been if dad would have been still alive. Yet I think that God called him earlier because He loved him too much.
Till the day when we shall meet again rest in peace dad, I love you.
In loving memory of Ioan Galasiu, *25.06.1949 +22.12.1989
memyselfandela, 22 December 2013
I am grateful for the gift of being alive
For the roses I bewilderingly find blooming under your blue sky.
When night comes, when my eyes cannot close
They can sometimes seize the star that lights up your dreams.
As it twinkles high above you, almost fading,
The distance to you means nothing anymore.
One day when my soul will look for a place to hide and to rest
It will find the shadow concealed between your loving arms.
100 words, memyselfandela, November 2013
mute words speak
for the tears in my soul,
so You take them,
make them a river,
make my heart a stone,
crush me, make me a pot
to burn all the pain.
33 words, memyselfandela – August 2013
Some might tell you it’s only noise
Others will say it’s just music
Yet don’t believe a thing, simply listen.
Hear this grave voice, this is no longer a bare cello
It’s my very heart, this metal heartbeat is my very life
This sound is the blood running through my veins.
Rather than take it away from me just kill me,
This is my passion, the voice of my love.
memyselfandela, June 2013
Ashes of my past still smoking, yet I refuse to lose my innocence
Nobody will break me or teach me how to hate.
Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
No chains around my heart, no limitations on my spirit.
The only everlasting love is the one you unconditionally give
True love needs no pretexts and is never postponed.
I have loved and I will always love
I’m in love and I will always give love
At the end of the road just remember me as a burning light.
If people would only learn
To listen to their heart
To see deeper than skin
Never allowing physical eyes
To fool them
If they would know
The burning power
Of the inner eye
Life would unfold
In front of them:
No more misery
No more pain
Only beauty and light.
Snowflakes dance outside
On a tune known only by them
While the wind sighs.
Warm and bright inside my heart.
The day blooms her eyes full of light
Smiling upon us like a waving flag.
In my hair and on my soul
Shine blue ribbons of
I often not tell you a word about who I am.
Long way to get to my heart,
pondering wether you are born to make it.
Take the comforting smile and never ask what lies behind it.
I exhaust you with monsoons of thoughts to keep you safe
so you never hear the deepest silence burying my soul alive.
Countless innuendos paving the path between us
trying to teach me more, bypassing straight answers.
The one and only will walk the last mile.
one day with sun and with no luck
a glimpse of its shine drew you near
seeing it fallen in the old bazaar
lost from the chain around the neck of an old woman
getting closer you took it in your hand
wiping away the dust and the ashes
you bit it and admired the genuine gold
and kept it as lucky charm between your trembling fingers
you’ll never know that it holds
the touch of her beloved hand and her kiss,
the beautiful gypsy, your only true love, fleur de lys,
and her love spell whispered to find you
he used to watch me for hours
failing to capture the real magic
craving for my sack of bones
skillfully missing my soul
don’t call me beautiful
essence is invisible to the eyes
heartbeat of an agony
living out of the same inexhaustible sunsets of being
untamed pulse of torn days and nights
of languages submerged in deep strings
me and I in my own arms, under my own wings
I shine the smile of freedom
grant my hollow soul
my black heart
my lost hope
from where comes my pain of living?
from the depths of my heart
my one and only eye left intact
in this sick blurry world.
through snowing ashes I can see a shimmering sky,
midst death and distruction I can still dream
of a whole life, of different red sunsets,
of colours rising from the white noises.
torment, for I can see the truth,
for I can feel my heartbeat
D’où vient ma douleur vivre, Benjamin M. Prewitt