About me…

They have said about me:

-silent back turner, coward, lazy

-artistic soul, unsure what he wants

-emotional leech, egoist

-bad person

-sleepy eyes and hazy head

-broken artist

…..

 

Who am I? For them different things, for me? I’m just being irrational/rational myself.

Who do I know to be? Only me…no, I’m not imagining scene from Sex and the City and me being “the writer”

Me about myself:

-a hint of a sociopath

-hopeless romantic, almost pathetic

-lack of social intelligence

-procrastinator

However, if you need someone to listen to you and make you smile, I am always that person, a buddy…can I even call myself that? Well, “I am fucking this cat, you just hold the legs”

I want to write so much more, to captivate this feeling so I can let it go and let go of the past, stop being stuck in an endless cycle of repetition, I used to say, Im broken, don’t try to fix me…I was just trying to find a purpose for not fitting in, and the reason for not fitting in wasn’t others, it was simply me. I can’t hold on to a friendship, I am grateful for everyone that passed thru my life for long or short, as I am learning and I never will stop, I always say that the time I stop learning is the time I die, when I stop swimming or soaring in the sky, digging a hole into an abyss to take a look to climb back…

Let go of the old, let go of the past, learn from it and move forward, there is no magic wand to create what you want, you have to make it on your own, fight for it, as life never gives up for free.

As I dig dipper into despair, let me savour the taste, the sweet taste of starless sky closed into a blue box with windows hiding behind blinds, I need to wake up and make the best of it, however, it feels so hard to get up, but I do it…I get up, go to work, come back home, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat…like everyone else…we are all special and none of us is…we are just human made of flesh and bone and chemicals in our brain to make us think, feel, want, hurt, feel the love and feel the pain…

 

People forget how much a hug can heal and how much can a hug hurt…hug your loved ones and tell them how much you love them, not in I love you…have you eaten? Dress up, its cold outside. Sleep a bit more…

We are all broken perfect imperfections of a human mind living our daily lives, some lay low, some soar high… In the end, we are all just us.

Who am I? Just a regular guy, on the first look complicated, in the end, a man of simple desires and small wishes, a unique fool.

What about you?

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“Color Me In Cyanide & Cherries” – The Book

Color me in Cyanide and Cherry

lulu-02“Colour Me In Cyanide & Cherries” is my first book of poetry and it is finally ready to roam the world.

I am heavily pondering about what to write about it, accustomed to most of my readers already knowing what poems are in here, when and why were they written and so forth, so I am having trouble finding the way that could perfectly describe what the poems are about to a traveler, a roamer, a stranger.

Most of the poems from this blog are included in the book, some I skipped, some I added. The book is,for now, only available as a print book. I feel incredibly bad charging for anything(even more so when the available platforms mandate a hefty price in order for the writer to earn anything at all), especially for an e-book, since,like I mentioned, reading through this poetic haven of mine is like reading this book…

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On the 25th Year

Color me in Cyanide and Cherry

a_cherry_day_by_noimage

*Image found HERE

Today I am 25 years old, but if you ask me, it feels like I am 25.000 years old. That is a lot of thousands and I wish that you translate them for yourself as good fortune, love, health, abundance and joy – that I wish for you, if by any chance today the World owes me a wish.

I would also like to share two poems with you, and I hope you enjoy reading them!Have a wonderful day!

The Moon

You can take the moon by the spoonful
or in capsules every two hours.
It’s useful as a hypnotic and sedative
and besides it relieves
those who have had too much philosophy.
A piece of moon in your purse
works better than a rabbit’s foot.
Helps you find a lover
or get rich without anyone knowing,
and it staves off doctors and clinics.
You can give…

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Don’t hug me, I`m scared…

coreinsta

Has anyone ever told you,
how much a hug hurts?
To feel that warmth,
and know, that you don’t have it,
that you can never have it,
that you can only feel pain,
as you are incapable to love.

Has anyone ever told you,
how it feels to be unwanted?
That you are just a mistake
miss-slip on a grand schedule,
that fell out of the box,
that you have to correct
other peoples errors.

Has anyone ever told you,
that pain force us to live?
Only thing keeping us sane,
to strive and fight,
at same time pulling us down,
forgotten how to feel joy,
even when blue wings spread.

Has anyone ever told you,
what it means to be alive?
To be selfish and care,
another enigma that dares you;
How to open this open box?
How to await another dawn?
Sit down and relax,
let me take away your pain…

Smile for me…

Just one smile,
made me smile,
when world was falling apart.

 

Just one smile,
made me smile,
when all inside was dead.

 

Smile for me,
with that dumb expression,
sitting on your face.

 

Smile for me,
even tho you can’t see,
that I`m looking, your way.

 

It is lonely in here,
years passing by,
learning to live.

 

It is lonely in here,
people passing by,
none ever stays.

 

Move along,
wont be long,
before you’re old and dry.

 

Move along,
wont carry on,
that burden of life.

 

Come on now,
you’re not alone,
same as any other.

 

Come on now,
even all alone,
live and live by.

Sometimes, even when you don’t even see, one smile can lighten someones day, so smile, even when you don’t feel like, you never know who might be passing by…

Ode to rain drop…

Fight,
forgive,
forget…

Why are you alive?
Battle yourself again,
why?
Why do you keep on loathing,
tormenting your soul?

Again and again, stop,
just stop being a spoiled brat,
longing on nothing but itself;
every time same old,
try to understand yourself;
don’t be afraid,
it is real, what you feel,
wordplay, curses and tongue twisters,
not a dream, but real.

Awake your eyes,
open lids and rise curtains,
you can’t keep on running away,
why is it hard to live?

Nor music, nor games, nor even food
makes you feel…

She is going away,
none else to hear you moan and pout,
over same old shit;
even birds learned your cry…

Grow up, be a man,
soak it up and soar,
high, as before.
Remember when you were a child?

Then why do I want to die?
Afraid of living, feeling sick inside,
praying on this phone
just not to ring.
You`ll make a mistake,
let people down.

Confide in me,
wind, rain and cloud,
mourn me when I`m gone,
for now, I`m alive…

Paper walk…

Image0753

Set ablaze this sky
my mind has given up;
surprises never end here
maybe I`m not listening
to voice of sanity,
did I ever had one?

Sing and sail
bleach out any mistakes
that all this is reality;
only time will tell
how to colour in between the lines.

Bank every ounce
of this body;
jump as high as it gets
before you break your neck
put a collar on it,
red or blue
to hide the walk;
limp broken heels
blonde hair and forgotten dreams
another dawn comes home.

Reap my tears…

Today, my mother was crying,

I didn’t go to ask why,

to see her tears and heart falling,

I couldn’t bare it even in mind.

 

Today, my mother was crying,

and I couldn’t care less,

I`ve dried out all sympathy,

and my stone cold hearth.

 

Today, my mother was crying,

I woke up with a bad omen,

same problems every day,

only change is different coat.

 

Today, my mother was crying,

will she cry on my grave?

When willows touch land covering,

my dead body long away.

 

Today, my mother was crying,

how does my hearth ache,

linger for sweet denying

of this sorrowful life pain.

 

Today, my mother was crying,

I wish I could just leave,

with all behind me and rue declining

time to never become.

 

Today, my mother was crying,

I`ve lost my touch with words,

schemes and plans molder filing,

another death today.