living is about

living is about

being able to offer

everything in one second,

and nothing

the very next.

i love them still, though,

i am surrounded at times by
friends who make me feel alone.

How i found love

I found love
(illuminated) on a
bathroom wall, during
a blackout in Leh.

clouds i see, gods gone soft

the clouds
i see
mystifying the mosaic of
designer balconies
mean
the gods
gone soft
in blessing these working-class
storeys aloft

still life

if it makes
sense
is it still
life
?

all things are in love, for all joy wants - eternity!

Did you ever say Yes to one joy? O my friends, then you said Yes to all woe as well. All things are chained and entwined together, all things are in love;

If you ever wanted one moment twice, if ever you said: "You please me, happiness, instant, moment!", then you wanted everything to return!

You wanted everything anew, everything eternal, everything chained, entwined together, everything in love, O that is how you loved the world.

You everlasting men, loved it eternally, and for all time: and you say even to woe: "Go, but return!" For all joy wants - eternity!

- Nietzsche (1969: 331-2)

Groundhog Day

What if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: "This life as you now live and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything untterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence - even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!"

Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: "You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine." If this thought gained possession of you, it would change you as you are or perhaps crush you. The question in each and every thing, "Do you desire this once more and innumerable times more?" would lie upon your actions as the greatest weight. Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more feverishly than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?

- Nietzsche (1974: 273-4), The Gay Science

流年

有生之年 狹路相逢 終不能倖免
手心忽然長出糾纏的曲線
懂事之前 情動以後 長不過一天
留不住 算不出 流年

the world is an oyster!

i looked up and there is was:

the inside of an oyster shell, suspended, as if someone had accidentally torn off some of its mystery to auspiciously reveal beauty in awkward scraps of 7 colours.

i held (onto) my breath while breathing.

why i breathe

i only seem to
exhale so that our
breaths can
meet somewhere

sun in my mouth

i will wade out till my thighs
are steeped in burning flowers
i will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air alive
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
in the sleeping curves of my body
i shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of seagulls
will i complete the mystery of my flesh

- from 'impressions' by ee cummings

you therefore i

you needed to rest your bones,
so i retired
you seldom wavered in your tones,
so i perspired
you somewhat mentioned tomorrow,
so i desired
you happened to choose to borrow,
so i misfired
you wanted to let me know again,
so i respired
you insisted on using the brain,
so i expired.

good night

a spanner in the words
will fold, lift,
and
submerge
the blueprint
maps of talk,

until they soar towards
a good night's
landing.

cold turkey

i will
tell myself
to
wait
until
saturday

all i hear at once

all i hear
if i would
is that you'd
date me
if you could
and all i
wonder is
if i should
hear you
all at once

questions about your face

how long ago did the crow land and step beside you,
when was the moon from underneath your cheeks due,
how are the wings of Peter Pan when the wind blew,
and where are the crooked lower walls i hardly ever knew?

paces

should our

faces meet

again,

should our

paces still

remain?

do tell me

do tell me
when you
realize that
you are
walking along
and
alone again:
i might just
walk with
you.

thread

it is a fine and mighty
thread that is either
borne out of unison
or spun out of
hope in masturbation;
still, a thread so fine,
one can only be tugged
by it and strive to
be blind

(been) moved

even as the bark peels, i peel it. as if

it needed the help. even as i sit perched,

i am shedding and exchanging breaths. even as

i look and stare, i dilate

with the changing lights. as if

i could fool myself into being exempt.

even as the locomotives encouraged each other, i could

only hope to cast a retrospective eye. as if

i had not (been) moved at all.