Eyes / Ochi
In a far away land there is a city with hundreds of wise houses. Each house has a roof, a soul and an attic with two windows. Eyes scrutinize the birds that get back to their nests late at night, the grannies that bake homemade bread, the blatant children playing outside, the flowers raising their heads in the sun, the cats that purr in hidden corners, the dogs hiding their precious bones, the women that dream of the return of their husbands and the husbands dreaming of other women.
Every day opens a new color, a new hope, ends a life and begins others. Every evening sends to sleep all the rippled memories of the day, all the children and cats and birds and wives and husbands. Some of the grannies will sleep longer, other babies will get born out of the dreams of past nights. Some of the flowers will grow seeds, others will bloom, the stars will seem to rotate on the sky awaiting the rays of the same sun that has opened the eyes of all the children and women and cats and husbands and grannies and birds.
When morning comes the smell of coffee invades the streets. It fills up the sky and the staircases of all houses. As eyes open life vibrates, noises clash in the air, birds sing again, cats lick meticulously their paws and wash their furs with slow movements on the edge of wide open windows, dogs inspect every corner of their territory, children moan instead of waking up, wives pack lunch for their husbands, husbands go to work hoping that the day will be better that the other days. And even though life seems the same, it is always different.
In the city where houses have eyes life can still flow in unexpected patterns. 
Houses have eyes in Sibiu, Romania.
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Intr-o tara indepartata exista un oras cu sute de case intelepte. Fiecare casa are un acoperis, un suflet si un pod cu doua ferestre. Ochi privesc cu mare atentie pasarile care se intorc la cuiburile lor noaptea, bunicile care coc paine de casa, copiii galagiosi care se joaca pe afara, florile care isi ridica frumosul cap in soare, pisicile care torc in colturi ascunse, cainii care isi ascund mult iubitele oase, femeile care viseaza cu ochii deschisi la intoarcerea barbatilor lor si barbatii care viseaza la cu totul alte femei.
Fiecare zi deschide o noua culoare, o noua speranta, sfarseste o noua viata si incepe altele. Fiecare seara trimite la culcare toate amintirile ondulate ale zilei, toti copiii si toate pisicile si toate pasarile si toate nevestele si toti barbatii. Unele bunici vor dormi mai mult, alti copii se vor naste din visele noptilor care au trecut. Unele flori vor face seminte, altele vor inflori, stelele vor parea ca se rotesc pe cer asteptand razele aceluiasi soare care a deschis ochii tuturor copiiilor si femeilor si pisicilor si barbatilor si bunicilor si pasarilor.
Cand vine dimineata aroma de cafea napadeste toate strazile. Umple cerul si casele scarilor. In timp ce ochii se deschid, viata vibreaza, zgomote se ciocnesc in aer, pasari canta din nou, pisici isi ling meticulos labele si isi spala blana cu miscari foarte tacticoase pe marginea ferestrelor larg deschise, caini inspecteaza fiecare colt al teritoriului lor, copii gem in loc sa se trezeasca, neveste impacheteaza pranzul pentru barbatii lor, barbati merg la lucru sperand ca ziua va fi mai buna decat alte zile. Si desi viata pare la fel, este mai totdeauna diferita.
In orasul in care casele au ochi viata poate inca sa se scurga in tipare cu totul neasteptate.
Casele au ochi in Sibiu, Romania.
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300 words / 300 de cuvinte,
Story and Translation / Poveste si Traducere : memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu October 2013 / July 2015
Photo- Photobucket
Night
Mass of stone
I become
as my night falls
dreams of memory, dreams of life
travel through my frozen mind
a solitude greater than life
invades me
as I lay down and
die for another night.
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memyselfandela, 2013
Phot: google, Ben Gossens
Christ Is Risen! Hristos A Inviat!
Happy Blessed Easter !!!
Black & White
I’m tired of pretending
That my soul didn’t pulverise over you
When you betrayed me.
I’m done with dreaming of deliverance
After you’ve been one side and the other
Of my love universe.
Keep my stolen trust
And the dying smile in the corner of my eyes,
I’ve been only one in your big jar of hearts.
Dazzling pain struck me
I should have never loved you, stranger,
You who’ve never been and will never be true.
Withering days will pass, light will pierce this night
In another life where it will be
Your turn to wander in the dark.
100 words, memyselfandela, January 2014
Photo: Mal Smart
The Sound of Missing You
The sun paints a last trace of life before dying in agony. With it’s last drops of shadow it lingers under my tired eyes.
I carry within the memory of what love used to be. I can still hear our fading steps on the same old roads, on the same grey pavement. I can still feel your arm tight around my waist and your laughter.
Near me other couples chat like we used to, holding hands, blessed to not know how futile and doomed this moment of happiness is, sentenced to only live for a glimpse in time.
*
I was a fool to believe that you can make a choice. No. I chose you. The one you really are, not the one that hides his face. The one in which I believe, not the one that never believes in himself.
Darkness rises all around. In thoughts, in the shivering cold, in the unspoken emptiness. My once loving heart bleeds at the thought that you’re gone, yet nobody can take me the smile that you used to have in your eyes.
Maybe in your dimension you dance now with other masked faces and other smiles give you a passing smile. Yet deep inside you will never find your path on your own, there’s no path without love.
**
Rain strikes my cheek like your fingers once used to, falling cold, quenching the marks left by your ardent kisses. My lips whisper the shadows of the same name that never ceased to linger in my mind since I last saw you.
Countless prayers go your way, but you don’t even know it. If I would have stepped off the edge of my life I would still have never found you, for you are far, much further than my thought can reach to kiss you good night.
Memories of a madman fill up the sky as I lay myself to sleep. But even in my dream there will only be this burning love that has never ended.
***
333 words, memyselfandela, January 2014
Sleep
As I lay down in the darkest night stars circle over me.
Purple-green waves crush on the air shores
And the frost bites deep in the stone of my core
Petrified, inert, forgotten, wearing deep inside
The runes left behind by your loving touch.
Heavy mists fill up the dancing sky,
Lead shroud of silence
Engulfing my breath, closing my eye,
Covering in a distance the last blink
Of the newly born stars bursting in the heartbeat of Orion.
No caress left to touch me, gone is your summer,
The dragonfly of your soul has long forgotten me.
Visions of light sparkle weary in my mind
As I fade in the endless dream
Of your warm finger drawing circles on my frozen heart.
123 words, Memyselfandela, January 2014
Walking In The Air
Come dance on countless whispers, in the pure atmosphere
High above, beyond all worries.
The same lonesome trumpet illuminates my night
Come float with me beyond all words.
I won’t forget you, weary soul
In this dimension where we found each other.
If I would turn the distance in a golden thread
It would lead me far away to the moon.
Our clay existence, the cage of our bodies are nothing
In this realm where our deepest thoughts ignite.
Sleepless nights sublimated in the dark shadow under your loving eyes
Will never ever keep you from floating in the air.
100 words, memyselfandela, November 2013
Photos: memyselfandela, November 2013
Sibiu. My City. My Love
I watched you sleep
Like only one that passionately loves you ever could.
I was there awake watching over you
When nobody was around
And no sounds were disturbing your deep sleep.
I was there when you opened your smiling eyes
And when hungry pigeons came to feed at your feet.
Sibiu. My city. My stone. My root. My love.
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Te-am privit dormind
Cum doar cineva care te iubeste cu pasiune o poate face.
Am fost acolo vegiind asupra ta
Cand nu era nimeni in preajma
Si sunete nu deranjau somnul tau adanc.
Am fost acolo cand ti-ai deschis ochii zambitori
Si cand porumbei infometati au venit sa manance la picioarele tale.
Sibiu. Orasul meu. Piatra mea. Radacina mea. Dragostea mea.
120 words, memyselfandela, November 2013
Photos: memyselfandela, November 2013
Power Story
Once upon a time there was a very cruel prince of the sea, a manta ray that had no feelings at all. Even his parents were mortified by the thought that he was such an insensitive creature. 
He had no mercy at all for other sea creatures, not even for his own family, he was only interested in power and himself. Never in his life he gave a second thought about killing another or about showing some feelings and this was the only life he has ever known. All known about him was the countless number of his murders and all were afraid of the day when he was to become a king.
After many years of waiting in line for the throne his dream has finally come true when his father was killed. And so he became king and nobody dared to get close to him, everybody obeyed him in fear.
One night, while chasing a female he liked in the blue shining waters lit by the full moon, the king saw from a distance a skinny creature. 
It was a human being swimming. It was an old man diving there in the hope to find the shipwreck of a boat that sank long time ago, hiding in the watery tomb the bones of his beloved father.
As the old man was frenetically searching on the bottom of the sea using his special torch, he was concentrating only on the pieces scattered on the bottom of the sea. He was much too absorbed by the search to still be able to observe the huge shadow approaching him. 
Nobody could have seen but the old man had the eyes full of tears as he finally found what seemed to be the remains of the long lost boat. And he was crying as he missed his father and he wanted to say goodbye, because only a child knows the longing and emptiness caused by the disappearance of a beloved parent.
Angry that the human dared to pass his way and venture in his kingdom, especially in that special night when he was mating, the manta ray got close to the old man. He was so very close that he could feel the energy of the old man’s beating heart. Understanding that this was the core that was keeping the frail human alive, the manta ray stung him straight in the heart with his 10 inches long barb in a split of a second filled with rage. The sharp dagger has found its path in the heart of the man that didn’t see what hit him from behind.
The seconds that followed were filled with silence. The manta was angry that his world has been disturbed by a filthy human. The old man turned and finally understood what had happened. Knowing that these were his final moments he wished the manta ray to live also without what he loved the most. As the waters turned red around the dying man, he fell on the bottom of the sea, his last glimpse at the found boat, his heart filled with sadness for not being able to embrace his father one last time. His eyes slowly closed on this life as a cloud gloomily covered the full moon.
The very next day, as the king swam serene, a huge fishing net caught him and there was no more escape. He fought his way out but the net was too strong for him to be able to break it. Sharing the same fear like many other sea creatures, the manta ray found himself laying powerless on the dirty deck of an old fishing ship surrounded by a loud crowd of men, all laughing and making bets on what will be sold for a better price. Other mantas were captive too, and of all the king tried the most to kill again, but the hand of a human with a knife as sharp of a sword has cut his barb and left him hopeless.
Many stories ran through his mind. Old stories of humans being afraid of the sea monsters, of their quiet approach, of their majestic presence. Old stories heard from his father and from the father of his father. Old stories telling how stupid humans were, how weak and vulnerable in the depths of the endless sea. Laying on the sand in the dying light of the day, the manta ray king faced the same death like others, butchered into pieces and sold to a leather handler who made the best out of his skin.
Every little piece was wisely prepared just to be sold on the market for luxury materials.
And so the king’s skin was cut into 10 pieces, as many as the years when the old man has been searching for the boat of his father. One piece was sold to a tattoo artist, who used it to cover his tools with a special skin. 
Other two pieces were sold to a designer who created a belt and a purse for the same cinema star, a gorgeous blonde famous not only for her movies, but also for her love affair with a president. 
Two pieces were sold to an Arabian shah who asked his people to make a sheath and cover the handle of his favorite dagger. 
Three pieces have become three famous wallets given as a present to the three finalists of a Formula 1 contest after sharing with the public a champagne bath.
And the last two pieces, the very best, were sold to an exclusive shoe designer who cut them into shape and transformed them into a unique pair of custom made shoes for a modern king, ruling over an empire where the sun never sets. 
And so, the manta ray king got what he wished for, he was closer to power than ever before. So insanely close, but as it has been wished by the sad dying man, never having the chance to ever embrace it himself again.
1000 words, memyselfandela, November 2013
A Million Shades of Blue
Shades… A million shades… The afternoon was made out of so many shades between the black and the white.
The sky was not perfectly blue, the heart was not perfectly light, the hope was not really a hope.
If it would have been love or no love at all, all would have been so simple, but the heart was flooded by all those shades of colors and feelings and electricity boldly lingering in their touch. It was a delirium of things and images passing before her eyes while she was processing the remains of the previous days.
“Why is life not simple like in those romantic movies where all is fine?” was the thought lingering in her mind while watching him stop in front of another little shop, with the amazement of a child that has just seen something he was hoping to discover for a lifetime.
Entering the shop she realized that it would make a beautiful present to compensate his birthday. She missed it, it’s true, but not because she didn’t care, but because she didn’t know him yet back then. But still, she would have loved to have been there with him that day, and in her heart she was.
He loved them all. It’s true, they were all beautiful ties, hand made, real, just like he loved to feel authentic and sharp and real…
With a smile in the corner of her soul she sent him to have a look in the back of the store while she took the tie he had admired in the very first moment. 69 pounds, that was the price. It was perfect. The colors were perfect, shades of color, shades of life. The price spoke volumes. To him it would have probably meant an erotic thing, but to her it was a tangible translation of the moon dust trapped inside their bones, of their breath as they were kissing and talking about the muses watching over their love, of the raise and fall of their entwined souls, or the incarnation of all the things that were present in that very second when she wished him happy birthday, now, better later than never.
In the back of her mind there was only a song lingering talking about the raise and fall of the same moon dust that was still shining in his eyes just like that night when they have met the first time, not even knowing if tomorrow will ever come or if there will be a chance for another minute together.
The day was fading, in the corridors of the city, in the tunnels covered in graffiti, as the two lovers were getting back from a city adventure that meant all and nothing, while lights were shining on the side of the road, like fireflies dancing songs known only to themselves.
And the light was dying in millions of shades of obscurity, while the moon, all alone, saw the loneliness crawling back in the souls of the eternal loners.
500 words, memyselfandela, September 2013
Firing
Share with me your afternoon
A bread, a knife and a bunch of dreams that might be melted
In the same living mold.
Share with me all your passion
A bed, a night and the construction of a reality that could burn
All the emptiness.
I may flood your space, you may not have the stomach for me, our gates may fall
I may never be able to contain all your beauty
Or we may end up hidden in each other.
Dare to open your eyes
Open them wide, you may find
that we happen to share the same madness.
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100 words, memyselfandela, September 2013
Night With Love
It’s dark and I really don’t care. I feel your hand holding mine and we have all we need. We don’t even talk and we have all we need. I have the taste of your lips on mine and I cannot stop smiling uncontrolled. It’s long after midnight. The moon smiles with a white powdered face glowing at us. On the way home your arm holds my shoulders and I put my arm around you. Tipsy and happy we return home. Home is a place in Heaven. We are.
memyselfandela, July 2013
” Three matches one by one struck in the night
The first to see your face in its entirety
The second to see your eyes
The last to see your mouth
And the darkness all around to remind me of all these
As I hold you in my arms.”
Real
I don’t know how to tell you
All that I feel for you
Only my breath touching your breath
Gets close to this truth.
I dive in my heart
To spend time with my feelings.
I love them all, I embrace them and heal them
And set them all free.
Beyond dark days and hardship
I rise like a sun to guide you
My lighthouse shines for you in starless nights
So that you can find your way.
Don’t try to understand
The mystery that feeds this light
Just embrace it and smile
For it’s alive and real.
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memyselfandela, June 2013
E lucevan le stelle
Even if our wings would ridge the heaven
we would not melt the cold chains pulling us towards the ground …
I pass my lead fingers through your hair and lose myself in your arms …
Your forehead alone radiates heat on my forehead …
I’m hiding in your eyes, extending the light of my eyes, bridge for our sorrow and joy …
The fear of collapsing in ourselves is looking at us over our crushed shoulders….
Come, open wide your eyes, let’s not get lost …
What could lift us anew? Self-denial, the hope in the world, hoping in someone else? …
Do you still remember the path?
We got lost in words, come and find me …
We had a glimpse of the way back to ourselves, from me to you, your heart beating in my heart …
And the stars were shining …
memyselfandela, 2010
Stay With Me
Life should be a sunny day
Not the endurance of a painful flow
Nor prison of cold memories
Or doomed place that holds us enchained,
Nailed to a sensless ground,
Numb and hopeless.
When we look at our glass
It shouldn’t be half full of misery
With bitterness on the rim.
After loss and sadness
We can refill our glass
With the most beautiful dream.
Close and real, beyond all,
Here you stay with me when the lights go down
You, the only glimpse of light I foresee
After nightmares.
And the sorrow melts
As I breathe you, Love.
memyselfandela, June 2013
Shooting Star
I used to be so much born to die
And hell, yes, I even did
Lost and found and abandoned millions of times
Blind child, lost sigh coming from another life.
I had no time for wishes in my past, so I died
To get born to you, LIFE,
And to abandon all the crap and broken dreams
Just to make space for you, LOVE.
No need to tell you how much I love you, for you know.
Just because. Or for I reside in your very heart.
Under a sky of hindered frozen stars YOU are my singular shooting star
Fallen, with your smile of a wish, on my soul and in my arms.
memyselfandela, 2013
The Letter (A Duet Post)
When you read someone like Troy you can’t help but be amazed by the ease and complexity in describing the most intense or painful moments. I have been mesmerized by his cool view on life. So me, dreamer and poet , I could only try to imagine that someone like him would consider writing by my side. It started as a thought, then it became a dream, then a request and then it ended up like a post forged by two minds and souls. I am honoured by his grip on reality added to my dreamer perspective.
Here’s the Duet, actually “The Letter”. And I invite you, after reading this post, to follow As Long As I’m Singing, the awesome blog belonging to an even more awesome Soul, Writer and Father: Troy.
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The Letter
doing so, It once again did what It shouldn’t have done in the first, and glanced at the letter once more.
“My Love,
You have waited for me an eternity
Trying to see me in a million faces
Yet you never could, for it was not the time for us.
Tonight sleep peacefully knowing that the nightmare is over
And that I am on my way to you.
Tomorrow, when you will open your eyes
You will see my eyes mirroring you.
No pain, no chain, not even Death
Will stop me this time.
I thought I saw you millions of times
In millions of lives, my Love.
But every time I lost the illusion
Like a smoke scattered above the frozen waters of my broken heart.
For you were nowhere else but here all the time, waiting for me.
Tomorrow, when you will open your eyes
We will finally start to live.
Let the past die and rise from this tomb of agony
For Tomorrow is here
And I am coming.”
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Ela&Troy, 2013
Good Night World
” Sometimes we find things we’re not looking for
And we lose the sense of reason
Sometimes we lose what we are caring for
And then face the day without them
My life, my hope , my you
Sometimes we fail to say how hurt we are
When the word we fear speaks treason
Don’t wanna be there when my cupid dies
From a wound by his own arrow
Here’s to life, my hope, my you
I raise a glass and drown my sorrow
When I’m on my own
I dry my eyes on a shoulder
But it’s not my own
I cannot hold you
My tears are made of stone
I feel a tap on my shoulder
But tonight I dance alone”
Sleep
Before I lay myself to sleep
In places where noone keeps me
I check the time
To see if the seconds are still there.
It has been an eternity since your last kiss.
Sad hours linger
Not knowing if to come or go.
They would run to you
If only they could hear
The heavy sound of your footsteps.
In unparalleled moments
Time stretches the solitude
Breaking me under its weight.
Your hand is no longer here
To turn my key.
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memyselfandela, 2013
The Night
The night with its swarm of heavy thoughts haunts me
How many eons we’ve been passing by eachother
Blind to the reality that we are here , that we are one?
How many lives and how many miles we had to live and walk
Again and again just to find the truth?
The night has witnessed the loss of my soul
But my fallen heart, it was only you there to claim it.
This broken heart, shattered, black of the dust of the past
Maybe once so very beautiful and perfect,
Now broken watch forgotten, yet yearning to live again.
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memyselfandela, 2013
Miracle
The nights of wine and beauty
when you were hiding your face in my
Guinness coloured hair
are to be someday reinvented.
Life flows, trees bloom
and empty glasses get broken,
your table is deserted just like your life
while I try in vain to intoxicate myself with illusions.
It would take a miracle to retrieve you
yet love will bring me one day to where
I will find again your strong essence
In the entrails of the smallest bottle.
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memyselfandela, 2013
Night
Night creeps in our veins
And we can only think of us
Your arms , my breath
Our eyes telling without words stories from other lives
Silence covers all creatures
Like a thick heavy velvet absorbing every sound
Night of stars, night of dreams
Cradle us in your paradise
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memyselfandela, 2013
memyselfandela 
