The Belly

Garden in Jejudo
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These little hearts
that we carried

under our arms
since day one

has somehow
into a space
between our ribs
and we can’t see them much anymore

complexity is like
a bedside lamp
one that’s hard to find
in deepest slumber

but so evidently present

once when I was a lad-lass
a microbial tissue
seeking blastocyst

how did I know?
how did I know?

what the average was
what the extreme was

in nanoseconds I was born
with a cushion full of blood and guts
inside an armour and a latch
inside a woman and a man

I was born

to sleep inside a universe

fallen from the bite of the fruit…


Earth and Moon from Mars, imaged by Mars Globa...
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I am a human; tis an undulating mass of flesh
harmonizing salt and clay in my edification
bursting from an oval fruit — snapping out from a leathery tubing
I am undeniably mortal
undeniably sinful-prone
undeniably born pure
undeniably demons pestered
undeniably angel-poured

There is a glare between sun and moon
it’s both feroious and peaceful
there’s a valley between a star and satellite
it’s both nefarious and elegant
I am half of both dynasties
X and Y
Alpha and Omega
I am procreated bulk
from bombing supernova and yolking stars
my embryo was outgrown to limbs and smiles
but I am still a poached spectacle
of wombager on a fertile length of road

it was blessed that I take shape
it was solely for me

as a needle and thread talks to my destiny

the interview grafts me as the words…


A GPC separation of free-radical synthesized p...
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My emotions are a bit complex
a bit tangible and a lot loud
with a subtle card attached

you could be a dilemma
buying clothes from a store
tags on
closet worn
but not
body wrapped

and then the “yet” is not proposed
a free radical
ready to bond
ready to stir up
so chemistry prone
and chemistry denied

a bunch of clustered molecules
a bunch of clustered metaphysicals
physically done
spirit-like drawn
so up to it
up there
down here
like strings
or really

my emotions are a bit complex

so words are but emissaries
distant cousins

to what I feel…

Failed Poet

Anatomy of a leaf.
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I am the Failed Poet
I have nothing to offer
and “nothingness” seems to offer more
but I can’t birth something from nothingness
my instruments are sterile
fingers benumbed
heart bleeding
tongue, eyes, nose and skin

there’s no scent my nose dives as sacred
no eye-gaze to consider philosophy
to skin-prodding as stimulus
no word to keep my tongue in rapture
clinging to the leaf of taste
like a caterpillar bursting to a foliage of colours
no brain to synthesize these chemicals of spirits
nowhere — nowhere — nowhere

and let’s not begin with the brain
the heart its poor accomplice
their blood ancestral
their ties familial
yet they divide in kinship
and profession
at least in my house
brain confuses the internal affairs and externals
of “Jill be nimble” “Jill be quick” and “bright” and “light”
heart knows the antithesis of theme
for apposites and opposites and clay and water
Oil and Vinegar stories
only they know

I am the failed poet
I only burn in a frenzy
never in cool posture

I am failed poet
for I cannot please
anyone but myself

I am a failed poet
for I deliver
sans meaning

I am a failed, failed poet
as my lexicon is dry
and my being so empty
and if it be, my lexicon, so wet
it is the soggy papers
Of washed out ink
or food gone bad
for the rains

Dear me — Dear me — Dear me
I am a failed poet
with no cerebral impact
no emotive rotation
no hope to reveal

anything to unplug.

The Webpage

Adrenalin (Metabolisierung)
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It is a dotted matrix
it combs us through
patiently and rushing
in a hypertext

the button on the mouse
clicking in intervals
what curiosities arouse
in the bend between the skull

it is a traffic centre
a place to feed
a kaleidoscope blur
a night-day breed

and in my veins shot up
and words were heavily up
in creativity setting and rising up

Hoping To Gaze in a Star-Shine Equilibrium

Aurora Borealis, the colored lights seen in th...
Image by Beverly & Pack via Flickr
Running into motion
capturing your sound
your emotive translation
of your voice
of your being
and your blooming soul is happy
is gardening my inspiratory vault
your paradise | your immortality on earth
lights like oil on latern
lights like a moon on day
whispering night
To a delicately golden ear
and I flourish by
in your concave spectacle
that is your sentence
your ideology

we are running like deers
we are running like lions
and your solar and lunar baby that is your heart
Is beating on a momentum of the stars
its chrysalis of desire
its chrysalis of the cerebral
your tantrums of the tongue
Is igniting oxygen inside my brain
my tantrums of my tongue
is your oxygen instinctual brain
we complete halves
we complete wholes

morning in your eye
night in mine
and sun in my right arm
moon in yours

we are satellites
we are planets
we have honed adaptation

we are animals
we are intellectuals
we have honed equivalence

we have shared the lips of a star
we held the sails of our bodies
our pilgrimage is a lifeline
that has eloped to a new start

we can harvest eveything we touch
we live in a tactile realm
and all the concerts of dimensions we see

I am ready are you?
it’s time to breathe…

Reading Into The Horizon

Sing For Absolution 2
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Your aptitude for synchronization
is moulded by your passion of postage
you are beaming with a protozoan sun
miraculously glowing in osmotic pores
and having a lighthouse in your veins
signaling an ether and ozone of some faraway
symbiosis in intrinsic detail
pouring out sans cacophony sans co-conspiratory
you are a theorem
implied by gravity
and inter-steller dimensions
I am some shooting star
Orbiting around
a lethe-like world
weary and energetic
in the same artery
holding me

You are so tiny
and so large
in our own rights
we create equations
and solve hypotheses
in our own roundabout ways
paralyzing that thing we call
paralyzing that thing we know
bonding into significance
of some starry galaxy
that commutes
the hermaphrodactyl
synthesis in our brains
and the souls
we inherited

washing in black water of space
washing against the white matter of the stars
we see that melding
makes and explodes
all over our bodies
marking our births
into a new layer
marking us with

we were possessed once by a static indolence
now it pours honey in motion
it pours velvet in all absolutions
we are bridging our hem,ispheres
trading away from isolation
on a dawn-dusk plate
we recorded

we are ascending
in some quiet-noisy corner of the universe…

In A Bedside Of Indifference

Scheiner blind; a help for focussing an amateu...
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To be won by indifference
is a discontinuance  of humanity
perplex the soul
perplex the broth that is your
body on chemical fire
larynx is  echo
echo is oceanic
and bleeding a blue membrane
in a hissing heart
trembles the bone

it is distance | proximity wages war
like lifesigns in outerspace
invisble to a naked telescope
incongruous to a kaleidoscope
yet so permeable
in a osmosis of its own mechanical machinery

you were starved by indifference
you crept into bed
for a large biten lullaby
that held no rapture
of a organ gone wild
of a patient parody
in escalation
downing about
like a speared whale
a bolden tongue
knew well
yet you are dyed
by something

Existence is a key
needing a foundation
searching to be found
for what are the jewels
worn by a groom
believable without a bride

and thoughts can reshape
Break the stone that lies
in your skeletal chamber
you rid lies
can you rid malice?

you fought somewhat brave
yet avarice is your attention
you cloak remedy
for fear is your attribution

you cannot grow
you already wither

World’s Greatest Dad ♠ Movie Review

World's Greatest Dad
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When you have a movie with Robin Williams you usually get excellence and this piece is no different. The movie is unique, gently moving but its fluidity stays on in your head. Robin Williams is Lance, a “failed” writer, with a obnoxious girlfriend who is more of a control freak than an intimate, loving equal [not to mention she is a witch and bimbo in all sense of the word] and a really dumb, jerk of a son named Kyle. Lance is an English teacher, a poetry one at that, and it doesn’t help that another teacher of the same subject is more popular and successful than he is. The poor guy just wants to be recognized for his talents [which he has] but that never happens as he is always rejected by the publishers. Not to mention his attempts to be with Kyle  on some father-son time is a disaster for Kyle is really a satan spawn; a vulgar pervert with none of the merits his father possesses. Any person would be frustrated by such things but Lance is so eloquently in equanimity and patience that we see him take his disappointments in good grace — the only person he connects with is Andrew, Kyle’s only friend, who is a pretty mature kid and his next door neighbour. Well, then Lance life turns badly [when we thought he couldn’t be in more trouble] and Lance is unexpectedly thrown in a destiny where he must prove he is the “world’s greatest Dad”.

This was one of the best movies I have ever seen MASHALLAH for its critique of  superficial humans and really bad children — Lance is already a good father concerning that Kyle is one of the most awful, senseless, perverted and dimwitted kids around yet he tries to love that monster. Not only is Kyle mundane but has such a perverse addiction to all things foul that he is just a loser barfing about indecent practices, sex and views. The brat — I desired to hit him with an iron mallet! His girlfriend is another monstrosity — more like a mockery of a teacher and beauty. She is a vacuous dribble of a shell that really has no place in Lance’s life and should not really be anyone’s girlfriend. Even the teacher who is the rival may be popular with the kids at school and an all-round paragon but there even seems to be a defect in him that makes him sour and one cannot take him seriously. Even the school students are so dense and gross  that we can never really sympathize with them. Lance is surrounded by all these manipulative, malicious people of all ages but still remains a sweet empathetic person — in fact only one or two students are likeable and believable. Lance is more or less a naive, good natured, intellectual individual in a world filled with completely self-centred scoundrels.

The movie questions a lot about ethics in a certain non black and white manner {my cousin, Aunt’s son, inspired this analysis} because some of the actions people do may seem good but as they are not sincere they lose all their goodness. And negativities are not really negative at times but rather a protest against injustice. I really liked Lance as a human being and I liked how he shined through — his actions are nicely done and his creativities are beautifully anchored but ignored because probably mainstream culture cannot digest his ideologies or philosophies.

The movie posits is Lance really a failure? Or is it the consumer-oriented, corrupted- vice ridden and corporate hierarchic world he lives in?

The movie is a masterpiece MASHALLAH and something one should definitely watch.

I Hate Valentine’s Day ♠ Movie Review

Well, most of these romantic movies are considered “chick flicks” and only Allah Almighty knows why considering that many men like romantic movies despite the notion as women-only enterprise. I was considered a romantic by a teacher but I think it calculates to more Keatsian sorts because I don’t always enjoy “chick flicks” as some of them bore the hell out of me and are so clichéd that I prefer watching action oriented movies instead. With this movie I rather re-watch Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen than go through it again overall [watching it sparsely may be okay]. The initial parts of the movie seemed so promising — we have the same cast from My Big Fat Greek Wedding and eerily almost a same setup [can’t completely blame them there]. It was semi-nice at first but Genevieve (Nia Vardalos)   is so readable that I was bored instead of cheering on for her — the only likeable symptom was her vibrant smile etched on her face and her personality which was in conflict with her motto.

And her motto is “Just 5 dates with one guy then move on without emotional backage or sadness” [didn’t quote in verbatim] So, she isn’t really a player because she tells that to every guy and if the guy accepts she responds  and does nothing to upset them. Her sunny personality, a unique print to her philosophies, discard truly any bad will towards her except people who are monogamous may not really like her philosophies — but that is their perspectives. Then she meets the guy and he is the sweetheart from My Big Fat Greek Wedding who at first is really bothered by her dating thing but tries it out as he likes her. Though of course even these set rules cause them to have miscommunication leading both to withhold their feelings. To Genevieve why can’t everyday be Valentine’s day?  To Greg (John Corbett) a relationship has to be substantial. Truth is he acts a bit macho though he is supposed to be the more emotive one when he wants to call her even after the 5 dates he does not  — not only did that point ruin the film Genevieve’s hysterical “female PMS’ after the 5 dates are not good executionary forces for a romantic movie that did want to set itself apart a bit more by introducing a more assertive woman and a more mild-mannered guy who had a good code following in his head.

The actors’ dates are nice but in actuality the other parts were so dry and stereotypical with no true edge on character detail. One of the great things is Genevieve’s wardrobe, which has a repetition for realistic approaches, and includes her nice black-grey coat with pink edges/outlines though I don’t like pink mostly the effect on the coat was nice. The other is Genevieve being a florist with an awesome philosophy for flowers and Greg being a nicely executed restaurateur with good taste [his restaurant has a nice ambience due to the dedication he has for work]. Yet everything goes downhill with weird gender related issues which seem so unacceptable and mundane — it feels forced rather than authentic. Women are this: Men are this — but really just lame excuses and not truly important or normal in my opinion.

In fact, I was severely getting a headache watching this and felt it was a more labyrinthine version of Wuthering Heights being droned on. These people complicate simple matters and Greg is such a pain with Genevieve including Genevieve herself that instead of our support we might be spiteful against their immaturities — most of these feelings come later on in the film so initially they made a nice impact that was rid off in the middle. If you want more romantic uniqueness watch French Kiss, Lost in Translation and/or My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

If you wanna just pass time [like I did] watch this