Daily, Writings

Blushing Storm


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Fearless in my own skin, I struck
I swept in, caught you off-guard
My sounds showered your mind, sent shivers through your spine
We rumbled together that night
drenched in the moment
absorbed by each other
I was a lot for you,
covering the sky with my presence
you encouraged it
We calmed down
the morning settled
you slowly rose
I became aware of my actions, of my excessiveness
As your vast gaze met mine,
you painted my cheeks in a hazy red
New to me, I became a blushing storm
struck
captivated by
somebody else

 

– J

 

 

 

 

Photos, Writings

a Sweltering Summer


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I came naked out of the shower when I noticed;
the first rays of summer-sun shone onto my bed.
As if they were a blanket, I crawled underneath them and let their gentle warmth caress my body.
This body which had yearned for their touch throughout a winter’s eternity.
As she spread her energy all over me, I let out a tender tear. One filled up with all that longing, released into a powerful sensation of belonging.
Little did I know, that summer would be…

At last,
rain.
I noticed today that the leaves on the branches were bleached
that their comrades had fallen to the ground
A dry summer leads to preterm death
I learned that the sun can take lives
just as it gives life
that everything in abundance,
causes imbalance
and so I greet rain when nature yearns for it
Just as I release a drop of my own
when my sun-deprived body is touched by the first rays of summer-sun

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Writings

I found my smile in Paris


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The vibrant swaying of the bass-strings, they lure me in until I’m thrown out and caught by the whimsical beating of the drums.

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Rhythmic, never harmful.
Dumbfounded, I smile. 

I watch the drummer as I imitate his moves with my arms. In response, he raises an eyebrow in amused confusion.

I’m swept up by the vibrations of the guitar, or more so, by the guitarist. His stance, leaning against the piano, emanates sex. A woman in the audience is captivated by him, she has caught his eye. They flirt in the invisible open, I ponder, in the background, over all that can be said without words.

Somewhere in-between the jazz-bar, the red wine touching my tongue beneath the heat lamps and the sunny steps of Montmartre, I feel it. The long-forgotten, self-inflicted happiness comes surging through me.

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Writings

Content Overload


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We’re thoughts circling the insides of a beehive
Colliding, connecting, introspecting
We think to achieve, to thrive and believe
All has been said, I think, as I lay down my pen
No thought is unique, it’s all on repeat
My words are shadows of scribbled notes,
of poems, novels, of scripts from before
But, what else can I do than to play some more?

Daily, Writings

See and make seen


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I didn’t know you for long.
A day after your death I backtracked how long we actually had known each other for.
I counted two months, an insight which lead to instant disappointment because in this world we put the length of any relationship on a piedestal.

I pushed that annoying inkling of disappointment away because in my world I treasure the impact of a relationship, how we affected each other during our time together. I now know that two months can be as wholly as 5 years.

We were becoming friends but more than that too because you were the first person I dared to think of as a possible mentor.
Your manners toward others inspired me. You made everyone feel seen at the same time as you jokingly teased them about a minor detail in their own manners.

I witnessed how you brought those manners to the surface and I saw in the persons face that no one, except himself, had ever noticed it, which in return left him smiling.

You saw and made seen, in the most loving, joyful of ways.

As autumn came marching in and the first rain fell heavily, we stood waiting to go out for lunch. I said something in the likes of “Into the darkness we go…” you looked at me with a half-smile and a shrug, saying “I know many people don’t like this weather but I’ve always seen it as something beautiful because it’s as if the world becomes clean.”

I never told you how much I appreciated you, I never had the chance to ask you if you could be my mentor, even after I would’ve quit. Because we thought we had time, you said it constantly “focus on this now, we’ll dive into that later” but Gustaf, you know, later never came.
Thank you for teaching me, in the most horrid of ways, never to hold back on declarations of love.

Rain was pouring down when I walked home from the subway tonight. Out of nowhere I was struck by your words, as if the rain itself whispered in your voice “The world gets clean”.

So from here on now my friend, I promise that I’ll forever keep that glittery view of the world in mind whenever it cleans, I mean rains.

Daily, Writings

Momentarily Truths


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The eyes we meet, the words we speak
in the now we guess
in the morrow we know
the words were spoken
but the guessings were broken
the eyes we met fret nothing
the mind to which the eyes belonged,
listened to understand
did its’ utter most to grasp
drew conclusions even

but you know, as I know
we’re built off of momentarily truths
for change is inevitable as such
it boils us down to nothing
until tomorrow gives us something
and so the story goes on
about those who knew
until they knew anew

Daily, stories, Writings

Sizzling Connection


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Between two souls lie a path
it’s riddled with obstacles
they hold hands and on the path they
play
jump
run
dodge to the ground
one looks forward
one looks backward
so to keep an eye open for all that may intervene
they hord experiences along the way
picking fruits from each other’s brains
They’re feasting off of each other
Cherishing the moment they found one another
the ones they’re in, the ones that will come

One day one of the souls hopes it’s hallucinating
for in the horizon the path is sectioning
From forces, as well as reasons, unbeknownst to both
they’re forced into separation
Not by will for who wants to end such a thrill?
Rather, an inkling of something undeclared
perhaps a future not shared

They cry and grasp for each other
scream and shout as their fingers disentangle

Behind them the path dissolves
onto their own they go

In the torture they find comfort
if they met by chance ones
it may happen twice, if not;