The Suicide of the VirginAugust is the cruelest month, breedingCypress on the campus, mixingChange and unfamiliarity, stirringPoison into these drinks.The promise of demise kept my heart warm, coveringSorrow with plastered smiles, feedingAn insightful mind with rotting tubers.Death came quickly, jumping from the highest building.In that soft rain; I came to a halt on the concrete,My memories of you in the sunlight, my last thoughts,And how we sat in the stairwell, for hours talking.Wie werden uns wiedersehen.When I was young, staying with my grandfather,Poor widower, he took me on a walk,and I was happy. He said, Maria,Maria, listen to me. And he told me never to fear death.For it is inevitable, a part of life.I went home and contemplated what it meant to die.Why does this feeling clutch at my heart, why does it growfrom what was once full of love? I am but a daughter of man.And I know not much more than the factthat I am broken, an image of what has been.And death merely gives the
WretchWretched soul, wretched soul.The clock strikes four-but never moves.You look to the window,for the ones you have lost(begging for the pity of your womb).Alone you'll perish;Empty as a dusty cellar.And although the fault lies with only you,it is something you shall never understand.
:R a i n:The rain fell endlessly from the sky, each drop rhythmically hitting the old roof. It was especially audible from the attic in which I sat, watching the rain hit the lake from the singular, cracked window in the dusty room. Slowly, I traced nonsensical figures on the window, using the fog made from my damp breath as a form of paint. Staring at it for a moment, I suddenly became incredibly unhappy at my art and wiped it away with my jacket sleeve.That was when I noticed a figure walking to the lake shore, small from where I sat but seemed like a girl in her late teens. Slowly, ever so slowly, she walked into the water, until she was waist deep. She looked to the sky, her now sopping wet hair sticking to her face. Thinking back, she seemed to gather some form of… Courage from whatever she found in that rainy sky, before she peacefully sank into the water. The villagers didn’t find her until it was much too late.“That’s the fifth one this year,” I murmured
RealityInner conflictsbetween the real and ideal,[lie] with the loss of innocence
HamletIndifference and political corruption,destruction is inevitablein the tragedy of a hero
WinterThese oceans of blood,consuming my soul.Like sheep to the slaughter,fear seeps into my bones.I ponder the meaning of the fewseconds my life isin the wake of these magnificent"gods"butmy pockets are empty and mymind is blank.
GrudgeMonsters crawl from the depthsof my soul.I find my mind cannot take the horrorof years past,while my heart pleads for silence[that I can't find]
A step above the restLook down at me from above(atop that towering plain) -and wonder why all those antsgnaw at you 'till you're falling like awave crashing to the shoreof some long-lost(whoknowswhere)beach, wheremy sun-bleached bones lay upon theashen earth.
Music ReviewIn this installment, Iexamineprominent, prototypical mangling ofechoing acoustics -hugely popular followingreflection of reasonby one ofgenerations past.
A DefinitionWords that mean the same as ‘gay’:Happy, bright, joyful.Queer and homosexual.Words that do not mean the same as ‘gay’:Weak, stupid, lame.Evil, abomination, shame.You got that?Okay.Because ‘gay’Is not an insult.
EvolutionEvolutionis a silent process of changingwe realise from the result.It Can't Be The Target.
I'm Going NoWhereI'm Going NoWhere, But My Way Is Certain.
AshesLost Your name.The fireextinguished.
NadirHis shotgun smilesays it all -smell of rabbits matingin the basementkeeps him up at nightand he likeshis neighbor's daughteras she stands on tip-toein the back yard,peering through his windowor drowning kittens in the river.He keeps a razorin his bedroom,siphons after-shave througha loaf of breadand calls it magic,remembering how his teacherfound him naked,shoved into a closetand how she putmarbles in his mouthto keep him from speaking.His mother only laughedand told him to washhis clothes outin the bathtuband not drip wateron her carpet.Don't leave a witnesshis best friend said.Pictures have earsand walls can feellike familywhen God has seen your secrets.
LostLost –Like a vagabond.Split – At a four-waystreet, past any signsthat I comprehend.If I had I had it my way,I would cruise on the highwayand never stop.
ExelixiΕξέλιξηείναι μια σιωπηλή διαδικασία αλλαγήςπου αντιλαμβανόμαστε εκ του αποτελέσματος.Δεν Μπορεί Να Είναι Ο Στόχος.
Team In our days the word "team" only refersto basketball and football teams.
pillow talkthere are thousandsof tongues i couldmemorize; new wordsfor love tucked betweenteeth often bitingtoo hard.my chapsticked lipscould learn to bow togrammar laws incountries i'llnever visit.i could master writingsymphonies in syntax,spend hours penningvolumes in languagesof longing and love,but i'll never find aphrase that fits youthe way your body fitto mine, back bent.i'll never find a namefor how our lips tuckedtogether, for my handsin your hair, for therapture in your eyes.
Debate"I can't do this."No retreat;No surrender. Broken winner. Claim in your [own] words (weakness of the positive/negative) Questions from the judge(andjury)Closing argument"And the court decides..."