Alin’s quick and easy ‘Orange Soup’

2014-11-24 15.07.09

My ingredients:

1- an organic orange pumpkin
2- yogurt
3- fresh garlic
4- some nutmeg
5- fresh ginger
5- oregano (origano di montagna – gift from Italy)
6- thyme and mustard
7- red pepper flakes (Turkish pul biber- super hot ones – gift from Turkey)
8- black and white peppercorns (freshly ground with a pepper mill)
9- some sea salt
10- some droplets of olive/nut oil
11- parsley for decoration
12- fresh lemon during serving – (I use the organic pale ones mostly a preference of size and shape of what I used to call ‘normal’ for a lemon)

cut and boil an orange pumpkin (if you are ready to say goodbye to it of course- I have hard time sometimes to let go OF a beautiful kitchen decorating pumpkin )
then add all the rest from 2- 10 during mixing with a mixer

Add parsley for decoration on top while serving (also for color contrast green with orange) and lemon juice while eating (nicely neutralizes taste by adding a pinch of sourness to the sweet).

My best measure of ingredients go by feeling, color, structure and some speed – JUST like dancing with the soup kinda energy – Oh and mmm and don’t forget some variation of bread and cheese on table.

Lucine*

That dark patterned line
crossing straight the moon,
centering the frozen sphere-gate
of a misty autumn night-sky,
is not a cloud to sink down on only
and float subtly for a while
< so I can feel the aura of your skin mixing with the mine >
but it is also a five line staff
and tells me an aurally perceived absolute secret so that ,
through my hearing ,
you will
rise,
glide,
twirl
and cross
other lines,
tune my gaze
and engrave a mystic score beyond your shine,
plant each of  ‘you’s,
note by note,
in ones, halves, fourths, eighths , sixteenths and ‘pi’s
in the heart of each
<beyond the clouds away from my reach>
twinkling star

so that anyone that could look up with a heart,
<maybe on a clear night sky>
would see a commencing song-
singing the dance of an ever weaving light-story
visible to those eyes with a knowing only that
<the knowing about a wish is
a wish that shall eternally be kept a secret>
has the enlightening technology to recreate a reflecting galaxy
with an authentic memory
that expands infinitesimally
<which we in our terms would say it expands by love
but in truth would not really know how
unless the terms are lost and we have got no time except to  > – be now-
be now
be now with me now
and now and only now
be now and with me now
and only now and now

Would you come and meet me then?
there?
but I don’t know where… just there?
wherever all these sky lookers are
and be one of them, again ?  as we did once– on a terrace
one summer night, we watched our own story under stars,  among crowds while I asked for your light and you kissed me awake for eternity and so
would you let me kiss you this time – one more time
just for the last time  and forget that eternity  eternally this time?

Silver Moon*

I live alone
in a room
my only friend
a rock plant.


A vase made of sighs,
converts sexy non-audible AIs
to an unknown hymn,
replaces a half broken arm.

or was that a dream
during a harvest time?
or was that a gift
from a dear one?

I live alone
beside a window under skies
in a vase
made of colorful spots
my only friend
a girl
meditates in the room somewhere.

She, my sole flower
is a shape of a pink heart.
Her subtle transparent edge
glows my petal of gleam,
filters a beam,
and makes a rainbow kite.

My leaves, center her single dream,
carry a code of a parabolic green.

At dawn, she sings a love song,
invites all the blues of skies.
At dusk, she migrates them towards tones of nights.
A dot sinks within the brightests of stars
and finally
into my heart of hearts.

She collects then pure droplets
from a precipitating river – crossing unknown realms
in which of each
every season
a silver moon blossoms
to reflect a blue-green star,
she ultimately waits for:

‘That one!’ she shouts
deepening her pinks,
beating rapidly,
shaking my photosynthetic organs
‘There… we come from!
from the dancing, shapeshifter one!’

She, my only friend is a dreamer for none.
A dream of dreams about an unknown realm.
A girl with big words,
‘Someday’ she says ‘Someday,
when we be one as a timeless time but
I hold a key of Now from you for now
as much as I am of you,
Love will be a technology then for all – as is
then we be of love and One’.

‘but for now’ I say ‘for now’
‘at least, be my only one’
and I dream…
dream about a shape of the moment of that very someday
when she finally understands
and ‘yes that blessed someday’ I say,
and as usual nod and tune my stem.