Ode to the Unknown
He was the man I’ve met but never known,
While being the man I discovered from other people’s stories: he doesn’t know me, yet I’ll talk to him one day.
He is the man who lives on the other side
Taking pictures of amazing invisible creatures while being part of the picture himself.
Life is full of unfathomable contradictions:
We exist here but we will also live on the other side, we’re just not understanding it yet.
Our life is a constant travel through a tunnel called time, or a garden of endless flowers.
All is relative, nothing stops; we are all here, we’ll be all there.
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111 words, Adela Clancy-Galasiu, 2021
Dedicated to my father in law, Frank Clancy, a wise loving father whose words enlighten me often. And to all our loved ones who watch over us. ❤️
Photography-Paul Windsor
Writing Round Silences
There’s a skylight ajar
Mirroring Heaven.
Brick and mortar stop embracing each other
Where no trace of tombstones remains.
Light pours in with the sun
And sliding on the rain dripping from God’s eye.
Fire tumbles down on rose petals
Floating on His Ghost on Pentecost.
All the holy spirits
Rejoice here in His Presence.
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55 words, Poem and photos memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu 2017/2018
Italy, Rome, The Pantheon. On Pentecost rose petals are dropped through the Pantheon Oculus as a symbol of the fire of the Holy Ghost.
Free
essential readings flow over the sky
in scattered light feathers of transparency,
souls of angels dancing in abstract patterns of joy,
leaving behind the dull grey led of stormy clouds.
take the sun for a heart
to fill you with the rhythm of light,
overflowing the limits of your human syncope
and the chasms of your mind.
I am there, dissolving in the blue,
setting and rising, silent ray following the sempiternal shine,
eroding heart growing again to be human
remembering that I was once meant to be born free.
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90 words, Adela Galasiu, 2016
Photo: Adela Galasiu
Loner
Don’t be scared of life, of the cold anonymous world.
Cut the wires that feed your fears.
Live today as if it would be the last day left on the face of Earth
Even if everything may crumble around you.
Don’t listen to your clutched fists
Don’t hear the bad words flying around you.
Don’t hide from your dark side.
You have yourself and your gentle thought rising above your eyebrows.
Join your heart for a ride deep inside yourself,
Turn your arms towards who you really are and embrace your soul.
When you will be your own friend
You will never feel empty again in your silent corner of the loner.
111 words, Memyselfandela, November 2013
Photos: Pinterest
Spiral
I find myself often writing
with a trembling finger on the sand:
mortal finger on eternal sand.
the wind corrects my flaws
adding them to the infinite spiral that has
once recorded all His absolute wisdom.
at the end of time
every grain will be accounted for
while recreating another unique pattern in time.
54 words, Adela Galasiu, 2016
Photo: graceinchrist.org, Robert Gray
Silence
silver rivers flow
unbeknown to humanity
till the end of time
at the end of the world
turbines stand still.
silence covers it all
the light punctures
the solid darkness.
minutes to sunset
33 words, Poem and Photography: Adela Galasiu, 2016
Definition of Bad Luck
“There are paths looking for us for a long time
That are reaching us when we’re away
Looking for them on other paths.”
by Octavian Paler, Romanian Writer and Journalist
Translation: Adela Galasiu – memyselfandela, August 2015
Image; Photobucket
4 Silences
Source: Endo, twitter
The deepest silence / Cea mai adanca tacere
When you don’t condemn, criticize, nor judge, when you grow in more awareness of your thoughts, an intense watching of your inner world of thinking, you gradually find the thoughts will gradually lose its randomness. You will be able to see your thoughts. You will be able to see them separately appearing on your mental screen. You will be able to find the gap between two thoughts. As you are able to find the gap between two thoughts, that gap is the silence. That Silence that is there between two thoughts is the deepest Silence of this whole Universe.
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Cand nici nu condamni, nici nu critici sau judeci, cand cresti intr-o mai puternica recunoastere a gandurilor tale cu o intensa observatie a lumii reflectiei tale interioare, descoperi treptat ca gandurile isi pierd spiritul aleator. Vei putea sa iti vizualizezi gandurile. Le vei putea vedea separat aparand pe ecranul tau mental. Vei reusi sa gasesti spatiul liber dintre doua ganduri. Pe masura ce recunosti spatiul dintre ganduri, acel spatiu e liniste. Acea Liniste care se afla intre ganduri e cea mai adanca Tacere din intreg universul.
100 words, memyselfandela, 2012
Tranquility / Liniste
Sliding from the dragonfly wings
to the back of the fish
in the flesh of the shell
the pearl of light
becomes tranquillity.
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Alunecand de pe aripile libelulei
pe spinarea pestelui
in carnea scoicii
perla de lumina
devine liniste.
Memyselfandela, 2011
Marooned
Motto: “We are cut, we are fallen.
We are become part of that unfeeling universe that sleeps
when we are at our quickest and burns red when we lie asleep.” /
” Suntem secerati, suntem cazuti. Am devenit parte a
acelui univers lipsit de simturi care doarme cand suntem cel mai activi
si mocneste ca jarul cand ne intindem in somn.”
Virginia Woolf, The Waves/ Virginia Woolf, Valurile
MAROONED
I am lost like a stone
Submerged in the depths
Of this endless reality
In which our thoughts sometimes touch.
They come and go
Sometimes tormented like an agony
Sometimes calm like a madman
Marooned on an island of thousand silences.
Don’t keep me in your pocket forever,
Throw me far away,
Just enjoy the moment of
My passing ripples through your existence.
NAUFRAGIAT
Sunt pierdut ca o piatra
Scufundata in adancurile
Acestei realitati fara sfarsit
In care gandurile noastre uneori se ating.
Ele vin si pleaca
Uneori chinuite ca o agonie
Alteori calme precum un nebun
Naufragiat pe o insula a miilor de taceri.
Nu ma tine in buzunarul tau pentru totdeauna
Arunca-ma in departare,
Bucura-te doar de momentul
Trecatoarelor mele unde prin existenta ta.
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memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu, 63 words, 2014
Photo: Photobucket.
Kew Gardens for Palm Sunday
As today in Romania people celebrate all those with flower names, today I offer you all a lot of flowers and bloom.
Enjoy the spring and may your hearts bloom just the same.
Love and Light,
Ela
Photos: Adela Galasiu, 2014
Nebunii Magnoliene / Magnolian Follies
Motto: “Acum sunt mai pustiu ca totdeauna/ Now that I am more deserted than everDe cand ma simt tot mai bogat de tine/ Since I feel more and more rich of you
Si-mi stau pe tample soarele si luna/ And on my temples lie the Sun and the Moon
Acum mi-e cel mai rau si cel mai bine./ Now I feel the worst and the best”
magnolias, impeccably graceful
blooming a smile over your sad soul,
lovingly laying a kiss
in the palm of your hand
magnolias, telling you stories
that no fortune-teller could even imagine,
of feelings nobody would ever
believe may exist
magnolias gently blooming
like the young season that brought you into my life
with this warm memory of my restless heart
looking over you sat on a quiet bench on the boulevard
magnolias dancing quiet
loosing their white petals in a vertigo
in an infinite dream where we are no longer broken
but the two halves composing the same incredibly surreal folly.
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magnolii, impecabil de grațioase
înflorind un zâmbet peste sufletul tau trist,
asternand cu dragoste un sarut
în palma ta
magnolii, spunandu-ti povești
pe care nici macar o ghicitoare nu le-ar putea imagina,
de sentimente de care nimeni vreodată
n-ar crede ca ar putea exista
magnolii înflorind ușor
ca tânărul anotimp care te-a adus în viața mea
cu această amintire caldă a inimii mele agitate
veghiind peste tine așezat pe o bancă tacuta pe bulevard
magnolii dansand liniștit
pierzandu-si petalele albe într-un vertij,
într-un vis infinit unde nu mai suntem rupti
ci suntem cele două jumătăți compunand aceeasi incredibila nebunie ireala.
100 de cuvinte/ 100 words, memyselfandela, April 2014
Photos: Adela Galasiu 2014
I Am
In the white silence
In the trembling kiss on the corner of your lips
In the smiling look in your eyes
In the sound of speaking your name
There I am,
My Love.
33 words, memyselfandela February 2014
Lunatic
The absolute solitude embraces the caryatids but has not forgotten the smile in your eyes.
I spend my days with my rebel freedom, with the stone kings and the frozen time.
Life continues to pulsate in the depths of my heartless veins.
On the same stairs where you were holding my hand
The rain has replaced the sound of your footsteps beside me.
Your wish for happiness has not yet extinguished my soul.
I write like a lunatic on the corner of every table I happen to find,
In the silent places where I have once been with you.
Lunatic. Yes, I am a lunatic. The absolute lunatic for loving you.
111 words, memyselfandela, February 2014
Photo: Photobucket
Be
Come back Love, I have waited for you an eternity. I will wait till I’ll have no more reason to be…
Where I sit,
my windows burst with agony
only traces left of the sunshine.
Screams of pain,
from the bleeding heart within
smoke raising
from my dying fire,
life in a crude acknowledgement
and in the oblivion of my aching mind.
but all is left is this day,
within.
What is dull for others
is a deep dive in the consciousness for me,
my long-lost confession from deserted lives,
memories filling the deep blue sea
as a storm,
scratching lines on my face
and crevasses in my soul,
harbours of quiet
where sometimes only a lost echo
still lingers.
It is through this singular beauty,
the spark inside the chaos,
that I now witness
the only path that represents
sheer living.
I am consciousness.
Hanged like a shroud
eternity awaits
the sight of a life lived
with passion,
an escape from this colourless dimension
through the fire that burns deep inside every breath.
Madness it is, yet it is life
above just a carcass, into the soul
reborn –
pure existence
erasing all negative just to give life to life itself.
When I will finally open my windows
my silence will flood the outer universes
and my ardent heart
will cast far away the song of this ephemeral moment
so that my reflected souls outside
will know that we only had this day
to be.
Thank you Andre, Vandana and Luna Amara.
222 words, Memyselfandela, January 2014
Wash
God, have mercy, let it rain today,
My heart is so black, like my mind in ways.
Oh , there was a time when I could feel his taste.
His smiling eyes before me, tears down my face.
Sin for sale. Lover, will it feed your need?
Tell me, why you planted all these devil’s seeds?
What is now the truth? Can we get it back?
It’s was on the inside but you lost it’s track.
What was clean and pure is now left outside
On these paths of living we walk without guide.
What you knew and hid kills our frail tomorrow.
Bring your love back, lover, I may die of sorrow.
Bring life back, reborn, wash my love with tears
Be not scared to feel, love above all fears.
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
Life on a platform
I live waiting on the platform for my destined train. Sometimes I overslept in the waiting room and missed it, but most of the times I was here on the platform when it arrived. I have travelled for a while, I have learned new things but when I got off the train I have realized it has brought me back to this station with a name that I am still trying to decipher.
It’s just a normal train station like all others. With a huge clock, with huge windows, with many people carrying around small and big luggages and baggages stuffed with their own existence. Many run after trains they almost miss, others wait a bit restless for their journey, but the most rare kind of passengers are the ones that radiate happiness when they see their train arriving. Not many smile as they step in their train.
Above my head, on a wall, is scribbled Paler’s Decalogue, for some a blasphemy, for some food for thought:
“1.Wait, no matter how long.
2. Wait, no matter for what.
3. Don’t remember quite anything instead. The only good memories are the ones that allow you to live in the present.
4. Do not count the days.
5. Do not forget that any waiting time is temporary, even if it lasts for a lifetime.
6. Repeat yourself that there is no such thing as a desert. There is only our incapacity to fill the void in which we are living.
7. Do not put in the same pot both the prayer and God. Prayer is sometimes a form of hope of the one that does not dare to hope on his own.
8. If this thought helps, do not seek to admit that you hope because you don’t have something better to do or even in order to prevent the outcomes of doing nothing.
9. Bless the opportunity of completely belonging to yourself. Solitude is a whore that doesn’t blame you for being selfish.
10. Remember that Paradise was , most certainly, in a grotto.”
No days or nights are the same. They are all different and this is a blessing in itself.
Sometimes moths circle around the glowing beauty of a single light in the night, in a dance that fascinates me so much that I forget how much I still have to wait to see my train coming. Their mesmerizing dance takes me out of my world for a while.
Sometimes the dirty light reveals the faces of all the unknown people still waiting by my side, some worried, some cheerful, same frowning, some left with only few more drops of life.
Life goes on on the platform. The days grow, the nights slowly fade, the time sometimes pauses. The most beautiful light of all is the sunrise invading like molten gold the quiet platform, flowing between trains and passengers, flooding the huge waiting room in which some just enter and some still wait for an eternity to finally get born.
500 words, memyselfandela January 2014
Photo: Photobucket
memyselfandela 
