I meet you in a globule
beyond worlds – beyond perception – beyond body
and mind

I meet you there
in our melodic silence
inside an uncollapsible sphere
to continually refract our
illuminating plain light
and reflect
along the perpetually
manifesting membrane
of our ever evolving  
ever changing
color codes

when we imagine we make love
endless coordinate points join
to sculpt this dream
it is visible along this subtle interface
as the fugitive perpetual color
of true love

I come here and see you just
inside the divinity made by us

you and I on a brow we are
beyond the eyes we shall always meet
as the complementary formula
evenly made anew by you and I
and  here we have always been
axiomatically you are I

so let’s forget and return to our lives again
on this plane we shall write the experience
peacefully apart  in each other’s presence
to gravitate and untouchably reshape  
our garments which shall be dropped someday
not as a fate

in the hub of this supreme orb
made of the sound of our eternal peak
we are as if two separate selves
trails of my illusory dance
shape all your dream girls
until that all fades
like in the true blue of the sky
all in one I am now for you

and you

you do for each of I
as if you are
you …you …you

of all and with whom
I am in love


ink and watercolors on canvas - AIR #3-(Augmented Irradiations 3-1) 35x27 cm

ink and watercolors on canvas – AIR #3-(Augmented Irradiations 3-1) 35×27 cm

I was falling in full speed
lured and pulled by
thoughts of
“I love you” s 

along the edges of sharp rocks
of some unknown grounds

“i love you” s
animated inside out 
of a delusioning  
concave-convex shape

you don't know 
by which one 
you were 
in or out 
“i love you  uuuuuuuoooooaaaaaaaaa”

as I approached 

the ouuuuuuuuoooooaaaaaaaaa 
part of y 
getting bigger 
and larger 

ready to gobble me in one go
by the shape of the sound
lost or blind
foggy or dark
through the deafening speed
or storm 

I heard someone repeatedly say:

time sleep

time sleep

and so
I wished
for time sleep 

while learning
what it means
to wish for
one thing

I got pulled up

by a cloud 

by the friends 
of the cloud

All constituting a blessed chorus 
of clouds
singing something like:

loves youuuu 
but youuuu'

however I wishfully imagined it to be something like:

'No it’s s/he that loves youuuu but not you' :D 

flattering the remains of my ego
but neither of the two was what they were really telling
they were singing to make a shape!

a shape that I could be placed in safely
a shape that could ideally form
at a point :
when rainbows know that they are being 
wished for 
and show up on the surface of a sphere
my voice would serve to become the seal of the gap
that could even effortlessly freeze a soap bubble!!

“I am slowly getting it”  I said

as I approached
and as the micro units to the crash
got doubled then tripled 

you know how it goes 
as he (or a thing or h or x or i ) approaches to zero

my breathlessness diminishes

and I slowly perceive the truth
of the words  dreamily saying :

'who are  youuuu
who are youuuu'

and  ingeniously making a curly shape 
with the form of the sound of the 
'whoareyou' s
connecting one edge of the sound to the other 
until it could sound like 
'I am you' !

so when the “who are you”s
got equal to 
'i am you'  s
when and where
again ingeniously
all the “he” s in 
'he loves you'
got equaled to 
“I” (` I love I)

That point
became a coordinate
of a perfect bubble 
which I got placed in
and pulled up 

and so that all
just before the crash
just before the crash
I became something 

and joined to their song 
as the lead 

singing with a sound
between a squeak 
and a Hum

only and thoughtlessly an 
'I love you'
which in reality must have sounded
something like:
like a fish bubble

matching to 
- as I said before -
each “you” of ‘I love you’  
to an  “I”  (` I love I)

while embracingly
all the “you” bubbles got replaced by the “I”s 
the winds got balanced
to a black haired
blue dressed 
ancient wind goddess
performing the dance of
fierce fun for fun 
and shaping the wind

Fun continued 
until I became it  again 

a shine 
on and of 
a bubble

all the whatever
I seemed to have been  made of

getting rid of the remains of 
the trace 
amounts of heavier elements
(and keeping
those that which has the ability
to hold me together authentically by my own gravity)

I got hydrogenized

and pulled up
by a parachute
strumming in 6/8s
manifesting nude 
the duality
I crossed layers
of loving

it all stopped
some darkness
followed up
beyond skies 
beyond sounds
beyond forms
as if I lost sight
for a moment just
until I crossed
an imaginary ray
from a child’s gaze’s
descriptive point of view
a billionth unit
light years away
twinkling colors
an unnamed
star I am
music continues
Silence remains

A Trail of a Light

we fell out
at dusk
rose the moon
celebrated its phases
and meditated
we danced
the twilight

and saluted
the rising Sun

with the lovers’

we wait
for true light

to shine right
at well sync and
sacred junctures
of mutual comings
that elevates us both
to holy lands
with holy waters

there we make love

all nights
to create mornings for you

we imagine
it brings love and healing to you

while we say anew a traveler’s goodbye
and a blessing

for maybe until another moon.

photo by Alin – Sunset in sky

a myth of Air and of Metal

living particles
made of color
hang light
on top of an unknown

I do not have any space of time to cry (because I maybe miss you)
there you stand right in front of me (at a distance that I can see)

a clearing made for us is made of us
a stage of well fit grass circling us

you stand strong long hair maybe
a suit resembling iron
a suit that is a part of your being

you a warrior from timeless time
you came to me now
to stand across me

your gaze
that I surrender to
validates each particle
I am composed of

at rest is I innocent
pure balance
of peace and of joy
magnetic is our love

all the static is you
airy converting all the temporary is I
your endless silent gaze is now
our unconditional presence
made of a posture of standing is one

Red Lamp

As I walked
the usual
dark alley
I looked through
the living room
of three figures
standing around
a table
under a huge
glassred lamp
discussing something
maybe about the glow
which seemed nothing important
to discuss about
but crucial
to keep them together
implying the warmth made
of their circular bright light

I did not slow down to look further
just rendered quickly
the visible to eyes subtle details
of their well chosen wooden furniture juts and
the color combination fitting well here and there
to complement the tones of the woods as if
things were meant to be useful for them
were in fact secretly placed to color

I will also have a red lamp when I grow up I said suddenly

Just the fool’s remark longing to reserve a
placeless thought in my mind
Placing me in a long forgotten abandoned time
in no time
and realized
only after they all passed
as  if a ship faded
I remained
within an illusionary mobility
swept in waves
dizziness like sea-sickness
through a fresh splash
of tiny airy droplets that
I am already grown up

Were these the call of the stars
I looked up
and left a frozen smile amongst

No I am not intending to own any red lamp very soon
Owning things require an objective responsibility
to build their unleashed memory
to be passed over to nexts
by smells by touches by lives to commemorate

Stars justified just
They were my ceiling since a while really
of streets that  I live in to dream only
about tales about houses about little things mostly words
then again cannot really rely on or be relied on

Words follow each other and not always can I stop to pen
I immerse and be one of them
that’s then home for me
for a while for a moment
as is life without a purchasable red lamp
or haven’t I yet found that very roof
made of all of me’s each fully longed
there is one obviously one
sometime when time is not questioned
and that’s only when I can make one
maybe yes make one
is an egress
like she always says
draw one
write one
as I do now
or maybe one physical one
that may be the dream of someone
who knows
as long as it grows
to something that can be passed on
full heartedly
with its imperfections
signed by the spirit only
for hearts
may they interpret it as freedom
and yes that’d be something
to travel with
further than the reckoned
counts left from now
39 maybe
if I am lucky
and for that kind of measure
if I am one
there still is some 18 counts more to go
till the Red Lamp
would that number also be good enough for growing up
or was the logic vice versa
hmmm so
obviously there really  is a subject matter of growing up still
the fool was right  in the end
right again in fact
with its flourishing heart
so I can then also stand to see
the you
in the glow of my red lamp
with me
Would that be in the light of eternity?

A poem by Alin