A Cat Story
In a far away land lost in depths of time
Owning handwritten books was a golden mine.
In a far away castle on a God forgotten shore
Ruled a very cruel master who wanted ever more.
So he forced all his scribes to work hard day and night
Never caring if poor people might have even died
Asking them to decipher and to write from pain
With the ink and the feather and the blood in their vein.
Any minor mistake was so dreadfully punished
That in short term of time most his scribes simply vanished,
And when having all books he still asked for a last
Threatening all with cruel tortures from past.
As his time to die suddenly next day came
He just then understood that it was all in vein
With his last breath holding his most precious book
An incredible guest by surprise him just took
For no matter how strong he has been, he saw that
The last word was not his, but belonged to the cat.
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
Last Night I Loved You
Last night I loved you, Love.
My heart still beating, we were still alive.
No oblivion had yet stained the look in your eyes
And your heart was the spark igniting the blaze in my hollow heart.
I knew tomorrow will mean nothing for you, yet last night I loved you, Love,
With all the passion that fueled my veins.
In the night I could not sleep as I could feel that our time is short
And I was scared not to lose any moment with you.
Last night I loved you, Love.
If you desert me don’t forget to kill my fire.
100 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
2014 – Happy New Year World !
The New Year has come, on silent toes or with a great noise, the New Year is here. For the happy ones that will party all night surrounded by the loved ones. For the forgotten ones that nobody calls. For the angry dominant man that beats his wife just to make her more obedient. For the lonely granny that feeds her cats and all the stray cats every day. For the tired doctor who deals with more and more drunk people and accidents tonight. For the tired mother who has finally managed to make her baby sleep. For the happy lovers that make a special night out of this change of the year. For the young bullied girl who wishes that this year her colleagues will stop biting her. For the ones that got dumped on Christmas or New Year. For the ones that know that this year their cancer will bring them on the other side. For the babies that have just got born tonight. For the monks that spend all night in prayer for the entire world. For the poor who today may have found a bit of extra food from a rich people’s party. For the abandoned ones that nobody accepts in their home. For the soldiers who may receive today a card from their family. For the ones that can still love with all their heart and for the ones that can only love themselves. For the ones that always smile and the ones that cannot stop crying.
God watches us all at this very moment and sighs as the New year comes. For some full of pain, for some full of dreams, the same sun is rising upon us all. And from the ashes of yesterday new hope gets born.
Happy New Year 2014 World!
Photo: Andre Schlauch
300 words, memyselfandela, January 2014
Did you smile today?
No matter what life has done to you remember to smile.
Not from the lips, but from the heart.
Have a wonderful day dear friends! 😀
Ela
Lord, come Lord, to see what’s left of people…
One more year has passed… 24 years ago…
23 years ago….
“It was 23 o’clock. News from Bucharest:
Started in Timisoara with a peaceful demonstration repressed brutally by the system , authorities and security forces, the Romanian revolution spread rapidly throughout the country, the army passed on the side of the civilians on the streets of Timisoara, Sibiu, Bucharest, Brasov and other cities. The number of young people killed and wounded in the fight for freedom continues to grow. ”
Lord, come Lord,
to see what’s left of people…
Nights long and sad
I think of home
And there I see you
There are nights full of dread
For me in the war.
They are nights of tale there for you.
And Lord, for what a life of nightmare.
And for whom they die in vain?
There are nights full of dread
Where I am afraid to scream
Nights of fairytale
of which we no longer know.
Lord…
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Ioan Galasiu – In Loving Memory
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
Lasting Happiness
Lasting happiness… Have you ever wondered what makes happiness last? This question has bloomed in my mind again these days.
Lost in a crowd of strangers I was watching them in the middle of a very nice Christmas party organized by a very generous family. Young people, old people, children, mothers, fathers, some showing off more, some less. Standing in my corner, quiet, like a cat, I have analyzed their gestures, their interests, the likeliness for some to gather and some to not to stand each other. I have listened all evening to really interesting conversations in which some have made me angry with their lack of respect and others have amazed me with their fantastic knowledge and passion.
I find it always fascinating to lose myself in a gathering of people. I don’t find it always necessary to completely open in front of people I don’t know. I cannot explain why, but I tend to join the conversation on selective bases, and it may be that I am looking for a passion and depth in the person I talk to. I know many things, maybe different things, maybe I will never fit in the profile many would expect, maybe most would not be able to even perceive the poetry I have seen in this life.
I was looking at that crowd of people and I tried with my curious mind to read beyond the appearances. One could see the couples that were happy, and opposite the couples that had problems. The care some had for each other and the indifference that thrived in others. Some were there just because they were dying of curiosity. Some had followed their partner just to avoid a scandal. Some because they had to come as neighbors. Some because they are related to the owner of the house. Some because it’s nice to take advantage of a good food or great drinks. Some were strangers with far away roots. Some were people who lived there all their life. Some faces were emotionless. Some were preoccupied with several worries at the same time. Some ready to dance. Some dead tired. Some were there only to say hello and be polite. Some came too late. Some left too early. Some invisible. Some flashy.
In all this puzzle of souls, I wondered though how many have been happy. Genuinely happy. And I think that the only happy ones there were those who didn’t come for the food or drinks or gossip or feeding their ego, but for the privilege of being alive. The happy ones were the ones with joy in their heart. The ones that have sacrificed time and effort to make others happy. The happy ones were the ones that didn’t care about how tall the Christmas tree was or how expensive was the food. The happy ones are the ones that had something to celebrate. The ones that have hope and love in their heart. The ones that have lost many battles but never the war.
When you think you would like to be happy forever the answer is very simple. Get back to your passions, to your blessings, to your hope. No two people are the same. Be proud of who you are. Be proud of being unique in the big crowd. Does it matter that you are not the Beauty Queen or the Super Man in that crowd? No, it definitely doesn’t. Deep inside even they have big sad unspoken problems, they just happen to wear beautiful masks.
True happiness is the celebration of your blessings and of who you really are. 😀
"I love your eyes, my dear Their splendid sparkling fire When suddenly you raise them so To cast a swift embracing glance Like lightning flashing in the sky But there's a charm that is greater still When my love's eyes are lowered When all is fired by passion's kiss And through the downcast lashes I see the dull flame of desire." Dull Flame Of Desire, Fyodor Tyutchev ---------------------------------------------- 600 words, memyselfandela, December 2013
ROMANIA ROCKS!!! ROMANIA E MINUNATA !!!
Today is the 1st of December, National Day of Romania. / Azi e 1 Decembrie, Ziua Nationala a Romaniei.
I may be far away with my body but today, as I go to work, I will show a whole world my passion. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve today, I wear it in the open fully exposed! 😀 / Poate ca sunt departe cu trupul dar astazi, cand merg la servici, voi arata unei lumi intregi pasiunea mea. Nu imi deschid inima azi, ci o port la vedere complet expusa! 😀
Happy Birthday Romanians!!! / La Multi Ani Romani!!!
I Love You Romania!!! You Simply Rock!!! / Te iubesc Romania!!! Esti pur si simplu minunata!!!
Photo: memyselfandela December 2013
Night
I have lost my way often lingering on cursed unknown streets
Hoping to find the invisible path that leads to you.
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
Mess
If I would have to tell you who I am now, I don’t from know where I would start. I was probably swinging too much between the light and the darkness, the good and the bad in me.
Long time ago I loved you. It was the time when all was beautiful and open and real and honest in every way.
Then things changed. A time came when I saw how you were looking at other women, how you were playing me, how you were inventing excuses just to gain time. But I still loved you. I was giving you my time and energy while you were leaning back. I was imagining our life together paddling on my own.
I did love you but then I hated you. Every time when you let me down. Every time when I felt forgotten and unloved. Every time when you rejected me or didn’t see me , every time when I suffered because others around had the happiness you have never bothered to make happen for us, you and me. I will always remember how I hungered for your embrace, but it never came. For a phone call from you, but the phone never rang. How you took me for granted, how I became a mess.
I did love you and then I hated you. And then it didn’t matter anymore. And that day all was over.
If I would have to tell you who I am now, I don’t know from where I would start.
I am no longer light, I am no longer darkness. I am the quiet above. I don’t need you anymore, I’m fine without you. I was a mess, I confess. And now I am only the dream of a love that should finally be meant to simply be.
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300 words, memyselfandela, November 2013
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
Reverie
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
Clueso – Zu schnell vorbei / Over too soon
“I could hardly start,
Days stuck on me.
I come back
Now it’s the other way round.
Spread the sand in my shoes
In my room.
What can I do,
The memories always come for me,
Can’t resist.
I wanna get what feels good,
And that for ever.
Over too soon.
Tell me how fast
The time passed again?
I enjoy the moment.
Over too soon.
How quickly it happens
It’s impossible.
Over too soon!
I break away,
Here it looks the same way as yesterday.
I’ve got to ge away from here
I leave nothing behind.
I wanna experience more than
Only recalling.
I’ve seen enough
Who dreams is sleeping.
Today for it only counts for me
If something new is generated.
I wanna get what feels good,
And that for ever.
It’s madness,
‘Cos I can’t tell
How everthing runs faster
Nothing stops these lines.
Wanna have no doubt.
Draw thousands of comparisons.
When war the best time
Too much that remains forgotten.
I hardly dare closing my eyes,
Don’t wanna miss something in future
Wanna remain wakefully and enjoy
Don’t wanna think of tomorrow anymore
Live every moment,
Today is the day we’re gonna talk about later.”
——————————————————————-
Translation: memyselfandela, 2012
The Happiness Diary – fragment, by Nicolae Steinhardt
“1968: Outside a bakery an old beggar, small, discreet. I give him 3 or 4 lei*.
He takes off his hat, respectfully, and thanks me for a long while. Why, I don’t know – the memory of my father, the physical resemblance (small and stooping) – his gesture – so polite, the shame of being saluted by an old man for a few lei, the onslaught of images of prison in my memory, revelatory of the human condition’s wretchedness – but I burst out crying in the middle of the street, like a madman.”
The Happiness Diary- fragment, by Nicolae Steinhardt
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Translation: memyselfandela, 2012
* Lei was the old comunist Romanian currency. In the present we use RON (New Romanian Lei).
Definition of a scream
Definition of a scream, Octavian Paler
“I would tell you something,
about us,
about the snow outside,
about our love.
I would tell you something,
anything,
only to stop the grass of silence grow between us.
I would tell you something,
that you knew,
or that I know,
but the grass of silence has started to grow between us
and the sounds in the late word got lost”
……………………………………………………
Definitia unui strigat, Octavian Paler
“Ti-as spune ceva,
despre noi,
despre zapada de-afara,
despre dragostea mea.
Ti-as spune ceva,
orice,
numai sa nu creasca iarba tacerii intre noi.
Ti-as spune ceva,
ce-ai stiut,
sau ce stiu,
dar a-nceput sa creasca iarba tacerii intre noi
si s-au ratacit sunetele din cuvantul tarziu.”
——————————————————
Translation: memyselfandela, 2012
Finger
An old church man used to always end his prayers saying :
“Lord, please put Thy finger into the chest of the unsaved and bring them on track!”
After many years the man is asked again to close his prayer. And he sais: “Lord, please put … ” and stops.
After several embarrassing moments he only says “Amen.”
Asked then why he did not finish his prayer as usual, the old man says:
“God told me then: YOU are my finger! “
a 100 times you
you, my bohemian dream, my beautiful paradise
who entered like a bomb in my life
you install yourself in my heart, taking every bit of me
shaking my whole existence like a storm
you, with this light in your eyes, with this joy upon your face
with your burning fingers on my neck, setting me on fire
you, so strong and so delicate at the same time
holding my heart in your childlike world to grow it in your love garden
you, making us explode with your grain of craziness
you alone make time an eternity and life worth living
(100 words)
without you
no more space under my eyelids to hold on of you
I’ve lost you, you belong to the wind
you were mine when you didn’t even know it
when no one saw us
when we were lost in time
empty and marooned I am left
with the trace of you through me
torn heart that does not know anymore
how to keep on beating
without you
somewhere behind the end of the road
when the nothingness will recompose
we will rise again, you and me
the last pieces missing to make
the eternity real
She is still on the bed
She is still on the bed… White and still like the water of the deepest lake in the most peaceful morning…
Light flowing, dripping from behind heavy curtains… cool air caressing her face, entering her nostrils… sunshine touching her shivering eyelids… his hand on her back, his breath on her hair, his strong perfume floating, his voice, his sweet voice lingering in her ear…
She opens her big eyes, tries to sit on the edge of the bed, tries to keep her back straight and sighs, gasping for more life…
She closes her sad eyes… He left only a memory.
(100 words)
The Rain
I have passed…
…one day in front of the attic
of our lost moments, where not
even the time wants to stop and remember
that we have once been there, that we have
made love, that the sentimental rain
in our eyes was screaming
on the roof red of emotions, screaming
loud “I love you!”…
… and now I look at the sky and see
no cloud that could
bring us back such a rain…
… and even if the skyline could bring me
again the clouds of my soulful birth
I don’t know where you may still be now…
… my Love…
memyselfandela 