Monday, July 11, 2011

That'll be all for today

On the escalator, I’m going up

Steel planes, folding collapsing

Dying into the jagged teeth.

Reborn at the bottom.

For a moment, I want to be

A recycling immortal.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Inside the steam room, the figures loom large

Dwarfs Demons Minotaurs

Breathing like engines

The round lights glow smudged

Beyond iron cages

An underground train passes,

The ground trembles. I feel like

Toiling inside a steam ship

On storm tides.

…………………………………………………………………………….

I shower and tremble.

Cold water crawling down

Like a hundred serpents.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Walking on the street

I jump over the obstacles,

And the ditches. I tell myself,

This ain’t the life of mine.

Thursday, October 8, 2009


The bleak corner unfolded its arms and embraced her into a dark, inescapable womb. It served as her sanctuary and her prison, an endearing chalice of dreams and nightmares. Thin, intermittent streaks of saline tears gushed out and sparkled down her blushing cheeks like a pair of tiny, shimmering waterfalls. The pink rose rolled and bumped on the floor in the manner of a head slaughtered off the torso, until it came to a rest against the crisp wallpaper plastered over the wall long, forgotten years ago. As her soft, innocent body broke into spasms of silent sobs, Timmy retreated further and curled himself beneath her snow – white shoes that had been blemished with a few and rather forgivable streaks of dried mud. The instinctful, vigilant eyes of the canine darted in between the fat, large human approaching with a shiny, coiled leather belt in its hand, and the path outside the open doorway that sprawls into a realm more benign than this enclosed, torturous fortress.

Her thin, endangered lips trembled and whispered out frightened sentences that crushed underneath heavy stomps of unadulterated fear, thus becoming irregular constellation of uncommunicable syllables. The flower vase rested on the tiled floor in pieces, manifesting itself into an evident testament of a recent misdeed. “ It was Timmy ” she tried to say, which was true, but her voice drowned underneath the low, menacing growls that was gurgling out from the two – legged beast stepping towards her with the patience and tenacity of a hungry predator. She knew her mummy was somewhere nearby, sipping a good cup of English Tea and reading a Botany Textbook on nomenclatures, with the indifference of a Python that watches the other Python devouring its offspring in voluptuous, fateful gulps.

The beast gripped the buckle so hard that its knuckles went sweaty and bloodless, and he let go of the loose end. The warm, yellow sunlight ushered across the glass and gleamed brown above the polished, swinging surface. She tremored and shrunk into a helpless cocoon, muffled into tears of terror, wishing she could somehow dissolve into the wall, along with her friend Timmy…

Daddy, please….. she whispered….

Story: Andy Robin

Original Painting: “In Disgrace” by Charles Burton Barber (1893).

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Letter One: You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse. Then come close to Nature. Then, as if no one had ever tried before, try to say what you see and feel and love and lose.

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Tuesday, August 4, 2009


All religions deny everything else. Do they have ANY idea how big that everything else is?




Monday, August 3, 2009


As long as you love me very much but not too much, as long as you earn a lot of money for my comfort but not so much that you will have busty blondes crawling all over you, as long as you’re a gorgeous hunk but not muscular enough for other bitches to drool over you, as long as you can fuck like a pornstar and you fuck only me and only when I’m in the mood, as long as you give me the freedom that suits me and you also have the freedom that suits me, as long as you can afford to provide me with a boob job as a marriage anniversary gift, and be foolish enough to think that only you’ll be looking at them, as long as you’re an educated man, but not too much into it ‘cause you’ll prefer books over my looks, as long as you are a virtuous man, but not virtuous enough to fornicate only in weekends, as long as you are very understanding, but do not become a vegetable that nods to everything, as long as you say yes to everything I say, but show otherwise in front of others so that they don’t think I am married to a carrot, as long as you are very funny, and only I laugh and giggle at your jokes, as long as other lassies look at you and you don’t respond to them, as long as you can give me a child whose future only I’ll decide, as long as you love your parents but visit them only on a yearly basis, as long as you love and respect my parents and family and let me to take care of them, I’ll love you more than my life in a metaphorical sense.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Hemingway's Torment


There is a time to end everything, isn't it, Mr. Great White Hunter?

Wednesday, July 15, 2009




I love you, I love the way you twingle your naughty flock of golden mane, I love the way you sharpen your right eyebrow  when amused, frown when angry, and spread when wondered, I love the way you bite your lips when thinking, tighten them when angry, fill them out when horny, I love  the way you tilt your neck to the right when you see me reading the newspaper, when you embrace me in a passionate hug when I come back from work, squeeze me when I am at bed, caress me when I am lonely, I love it when you and I are alone at the shower, your slippery hands ventures across  the curves and crevices my open body, I love the odor that oozes from your lingerie, from the daring valley that lies in between your heavenly breasts, from the ocean of curls where I dive my nose to loose myself, from the tuna fish shop that only I know too well, from the pits of your arms that you shave five times each week, from your breath when you fill my existence with endless kiss, oh, you are only mine, mine and mine, your pair of lustrous lips that whispers in my ears in words that only you can say, and you wet my ears with the tip of your tongue that seems sharper than a blade, and when you put your hungry nipples inside my mouth and I see you quiver with ecstasy, the way your mouth opens up when I give it a tickle, when I put my finger into your bellybutton and watch you giggle when I do a whirl, oh how you take me into places that only you can take,, I love you more than anything, my mother, more than anything in the world. 

Monday, July 13, 2009




"I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been."