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.
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.
300 words / 300 de cuvinte,
Story and Translation / Poveste si Traducere : memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu October 2013 / July 2015
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.
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.
heavy white snows of silence fall like a blessing
covering us when you hold me,
my heart, pressed flower that will never decay
between your secret pages.
dreams flow across my burning sky of night
and all the nightmares fade when you look my way.
rebelling fears fall aside silent, broken, cursed to die
in forgotten corners where anguish dwells.
on heavenly strings my soul plays the unheard ode
of all my universe getting born again and again,
blooming as I close my eyes and melt in the sweetest sleep,
safe in your arms, hidden in soul, home at last.
100 words, memyselfandela, December 2013
I am the shadow inside and the one behind the moon
Trying to live with passion as I feel that life can end soon.
I am my lover’s lover and the fire within the fire
Looking for answers and paths that go beyond any desire.
I am the lunatic that spins thoughts in the sleepless night
Fallen and broken but always ready for my final flight.
memyselfandela, November 2013
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.
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.
Photos: memyselfandela, November 2013
Carnations. Red bloody curly petals all over the cold hard floor. Pain filling up her aching soul, an acute sense of bloody uselessness, her life breaking to hopeless pieces, dead flowers covering the ground, remembering her of a love that used to mean everything but that has become nothing. She felt no longer his presence, no longer his loving words, no longer his loving touch, she felt abandoned like a piece of unwanted trash, rejected like a broken mechanism that could no longer tick with sounds of life once known. All left was only the disfigured shadow of the man she loves.
Pain. A way out she prayed to see again. No idea how tomorrow would look like. Not the vaguest strength to carry on with this tragedy. Him, laying sleeping drunk on the floor, holding still in his fists the rest of the carnations brought to tell her what he didn’t know how to verbalize anymore, him all surrounded by the rest of the bleeding shreds scattered allover by her in an attack of passionate rage ignited by seeing him coming again in a state that never stopped to humiliate her in front of family, neighbors, strangers.
She, in a corner, crying, endlessly cursing her own life and wishing she would have never been born or no longer been alive. He, in another corner, sleeping, seeing in his dream her beautiful face, radiant with the love she used to give him, as he caressed gently her cheek, feeling so bloody guilty but so in love with her while kissing her forehead, this awesome woman that could no longer see how much he bloody loves her, how much he is depressed because of not knowing how to turn back the time and start it all over again. With her. From scratch.
morning wakes me up like a barbarian
memories of my once living language
draining from my soul.
night kisses day goodbye
and succumbing dreams fade
in the emerging reality of the conquering senses
33 words, memyselfandela, August 2013
This was the feeling of a cold morning, of the bluest hour
when my breath evaporated bashing against sad painted grey skies.
I was crossing a bridge over deep dreams and cascading thoughts
and over places I wanted so much to see.
Framed in the broken frame of an old story, the dream heard life calling
but stronger was your whisper consuming my body, lost in time.
You were there yet miles away, steps behind in a past unforgiven,
while I was waiting for you, hanging between life and death.
And I kept asking you, calling you, yet your absent mind
didn’t have any answers, only silences carved in cold stone.
In the midst of this nightmare I closed my eyes. And as I tried to imagine you smile
my woman’s heart embraced you crying.
When He created me out of your rib
He did not realise that after waking up
You will wander in other worlds, in other arms
Basking under other suns than the one created for you.
I am out of your being, marooned in another dream
You cannot feel my pain anymore
Yet even if I am invisible
I am still your missing rib.
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
Icy fogs melt
Over the endless fields of unknown
Covering my trembling soul
What will tomorrow bring?
Will I hear you
Or lose you again?
In your lost dimension
Do you even hear my voice?
Of loveless nights
Of exploding buds that have no more patience
Of tears and nightmares
And journeys I’ve never made…
Yet light arises
And in this solitude
Painful hours when the night falls asleep
Only purple lights cram my window
Purple thoughts rolling circle under my eyes
All my birds have gone silent
Purple hours when the lonely night goes to hide
I set like a dying moon
Eyes on this big eyed moon
I bathe in silence
Looking at you
My dreaming love.
Lost in a silver reverie
Only this moon remembers how I missed you
How many times I lost you in past lives
Dying in torments just to be born and get back to you.
Dripping away her blues from the sky
The moon smiles
And my soul shines
For you’re always here with me.
70 words, memyselfandela, 2013
Claude Debussy : Clair de Lune, for Piano (Suite Bergamasque No. 3), L. 75/3
As I find myself with no trace of sleep in the middle of the night I can hear my thoughts passing through my mind.
I have not listened to this fantastic song in a very long time. It tells me many stories, it has many tastes and colors in my mind and soul. It makes me remember certain days, sensations long forgotten, thoughts long put aside get back to me in the same manner like Proust was revealed past memories while eating tea soaked cake. I am searching for the lost time as well, and this essence of the past invades me as well very often as I try to put together missing pieces of this puzzle I call life.
The mechanism of the memory is fascinating. It’s incredible for me how certain things have remained imprinted deep in my mind, while others seem to have vanished forever. Only that sometimes, from long forgotten dusty corners of my mind that I even forget that exist, images, memories and moments rise again. And this takes me back in time and most often makes me happy.
May your night be good, may your dreams be sweet and your wishes come true.
200 words, memyselfandela, 2013
Good Night. Sleep Tight. May All Your Dreams Come True.
heavy eyelid drops
over the world and my soul
dreams on the skyline
“Hello my love,
I have just came back from the lady. She is amazing. I was absolutely stunned.
She barely saw me coming in and already recognized so many things about me. She even knew how they used to call me when I was a kid. I mean how could she possibly know that? She must have a sixth sense. As she looked in my eyes and read my palm she told me that in my previous life I was a man. Maybe that is why I am so stubborn in this life? I had an artistic soul, that would surlely explain why I am still so very much into music and art. And she told me “you know how you love typing on your laptop, the feeling of touching the buttons? well, in your previous life you had no computer, you had only your piano. And you have spent more time with this piano than with any person in your life”. I guess that’s why I love piano music so much. It must remind me of that life.
I asked her about you and me. She took a long look at my love line and said: “I cannot tell you what this love will be. Some things I’m not allowed to say”. But as I was going out the door she said: “He will find you again. Don’t be afraid. Everything happens for a reason”. Must be so, love…
I’m so tired now. Talk to you later.
After finishing her email, she found online the track she loved the most and pressed the play button. Laying her frail body to rest she closed her deep shiny eyes listening to the notes echoeing in the room and falling over her body and mind and soul…
Eyes closed the room was spinning as she slipped in a most strange sleep. She could see in her sleep the room and her body resting with a smile on the face.
Then she saw how her love was coming inside the room. He called her. Funny, why? She was there. She could see him, why could he not see her?
After trying to wake her up, with tears in his eyes he held her tight. Then called the ambulance. Then rested his head on her frozen heart.
The music… incredible music… Lord, what a fantastic feeling, the divine music kept on playing…
400 words, memyselfandela 2013, Picture it & Write
day closes her eyes
her lover in dreams.
It’s been a while since I’ve started this blog. To be more precise it’s been one year.
It has been quite an extraordinary experience for me. Quite a wild ride of the spirit. Though a very beautiful experience. I have connected in the blogosphere with beautiful minds and amazing souls and I have learned so many fantastic things…
12 months of reflection have passed so here I share with you 12 things you don’t know about me:
1. Back in my country I have a University Degree in Librarionship and Archives. I have spent a long time in the State Arhives and in many Libraries and I have been living among books since I’ve known myself.
2. I am a very strong empath. This can be in life both a blessing or a curse.
3.I have started studying English in school when I was 12. Still the theory is never enough, so few years later I started learning English on my own. I owe what I know now to a magazine that has changed my life. It’s fabulous and it’s called National Geographic. Every week I borrowed from the library and read the new magazines with the dictionary by my side, translating every word I could not understand. I am forever grateful for the wonderful articles, the amazing photographs and the beauty of this experience. For a child born in the grey communism like me this looked like and still is a miracle.
4.I believe in karma. I have seen it working in life . You can call it God’s hand or the law of compensation. All I know is that it works, we receive what we give and we pay for our debts and errors.
5 I am working on becoming a vegetarian. I can live without meat. But I will never be able to give up on cheese and milk, also because I was born in an area where the cheese is one of the best local things that are produced only to be sold all over the country.
6. I have a great respect for nature and all creatures, I do my best to never harm and to protect all living creatures.
7. I write poetry since I was about 13 years old. Most of my poems have got lost as they were written on whatever piece of paper I could find.
8. I love plants and wildlife in general. I grow myself few plants and they bloom often. I have grown in my life many many plants like cactus, Hybiscus, Rose, Clematis, Orchids, Chrysantemum, geranium, ficus , bonsai, cyclamen…
9. I absolutely adore children and animals, they are the most pure of souls.
10. I love art and I had a time when I did paint a lot.
11. I am addicted to music. rock, pop, classic, new and old
12. My first post on WP has been “Rest my soul…”
Though despite my need for inner peace my soul will always be fiery restless.
Thank you all for stopping by and reading my blog. You all honor me. I feel blessed and I am grateful to have met each and every one of you here.
Much love to you all,
let the night swallow
the last traces of my smile
fading slowly as I dare not to speak anymore
let the darkness devour
the last thoughts, so that my spirit can rest
let me die for today. turn off the light
so I can get back to life when I see you again
The blanket over the inner blankness
Sensation arriving beneath ribbs
Of stopped seagulls, hidden white starflowers
And white lilies of the valley…
Never mind corporeality,
The relief wrapped on his child mind.
This is my entry for Trifecta