Signs and riddles

Can you read the sound?

Hear the breeze - softly whispering in your eyes.

 

Can you feel the picture?

See the puzzles - strongly placing every piece.


Can you bite into the absence?

And touch your thoughts - hiding secrets - which are not.


Can you smell the sweetness? Bitterness?

When you taste the silence – screaming out a thousand words.

Can you predict the perfume?

Smell the heart – pumping the veins of a young star.

 

Can you see by daylight?

Or is your intuition trapped within your busy truth …

Messages stay unread.

Never felt.

Without the taste.

Without the smell.

With no predictions

and never seen.

But please. Play with me.

If you trust your thoughts.

A FAREWELL

Men and women live.
With so much pain, stitched poorly on and under the skin.
Over and over again.
Open wounds can't heal on open wind which brings the dust of memories.
But still we live somehow.
- - - - - - - - - -
Were we children once?
Were we careless? Innocent?
Do you remember?
- - - - - - - - - - -
Sometimes we wish to dive in the arms of the river,
which we told all our secrets to.

Listen only to the sound of the overflow.

To escape from the dust.

Wash off the bad memories. And screams of the soul.

But still we live somehow.

- - - - - - - - - - -
Some of us must stand on the wind. And others must dive.
But when it comes to this ...
We don't have the power to decide what stays and what fades away. 

But I would do anything to take your place so your children wouldn't cry when tending over the river's surface.

 

Be at peace, my friend. I wish the river sings you most beautiful lullaby.




 

A LETTER TO MY ANGEL

Days are so long. Every minute is like a raindrop, slowly sliding on the leaf.

 

I was dreaming of you. As a little girl. You came from the darkness as a quiet silhouette watching over me. Not saying much. You were just standing there with your sharp dark eyes and gentle, hardly visible smile. The softness you radiant on me paralized me forever. In my life I've felt safe only with you.

 

I've been looking for this presence in this other world ever since. There were years I thought I must be crazy. But I've been faithful. I've never abandoned you. I've kept this silhouette deep down, hidden in my body where nobody could touch it or reach for it.

How do I live like this? I live on faith. No matter what happened to me ... I was always holding on the purity I was given by the universe. I was strong because of you. Knowing you're watching, feeling my every thought. I trust in our connection beyond the known. You do things with the same soul as I do. You see the world through the inner eye as I do.

 

And even when my skin dries and bones hardly hold the meat … I'll be still keeping you inside until my mind leaves this corpse for the last time.

 

Years are so long. I live on the life you breathe in me while I sleep.

 

I've been looking for you. But I will never find you. Unless you decide to wake me up and not leave.


 

Črni vitez

1.      Prizor: Klara je visoka, vitka, ritasta in prsata dvajsetletnica z dolgimi zlatorumenimi lasmi in srnjimi nogami. Njena najljubša barva je roza. V roza ima pohištvo, stene, ploščice v kopalnici in tudi nekaj kosov posode. Njen najljubši hobi je razvajanje in skrb za svoj videz. Sebe visoko ceni, predvsem pa se preprosto rečeno: obožuje. Fantje jo morajo obravnavati kot princeso, saj je to edino kar si zasluži. Na današnji večer se v svojem "Barbi" stanovanju pripravlja na zmenek s 40-letnikom – uglajenim gospodom, ki ga je spoznala pred tednom dni v diskoteki. V kopalnici si pred pripravami skrbno ogleda njegovo fotografijo, ki ji jo je poslal na telefon. Črnih las, počesanih nazaj, temnejše polti, s prodornim seksapilnim pogledom pozira na svoji postelji. To fotografijo si je že večkrat ogledala. Ampak tokrat v gospodovem ozadju Klara prvič opazi gmoto nekega  blaga z vrorcem rož, ki spominja na kup zaves pred pranjem. Svoj pogled ponovno usmeri v črne oči, ki jo slačijo s pogledom. Zadovoljno se nasmehne in odskaklja do omare. Vesela in  živahna se vrti pred omaro in izvaja disko gibe. Za ta poseben večer bo oblekla oprijeto belo koktajl oblekico, da bo zagotovo opazil, kako krasne noge ima. Še pred tem pa na svojo zaobljeno zadnjico povleče najbolj seksi roza čipkaste hlačke, kar jih ima, in ujemajoč push-up. Nato živahno odskaklja do kopalnice in se zavrti še pred ogledalom. Tako si je seksi, da se bi kar pojedla. Udari se po ritki in zamijavka. Z največjo natančnostjo nanese make up na svoj obraz. Mora biti brezhibna. Zamisli si, kako bo potekal njen večer: šla bosta v diskoteko, ona bo seksapilno plesala okoli njega in ga »rajcala« s svojo popolno ritko, on ji bo častil koktajle, potem pa, ko jo bo odpeljal domov - v svojem črnem audiju - ga bo pohotnega zapustila in zadovoljna odšla spat. Klara je pripravljena in vrata Barbi stanovanja se zaprejo.

3.      Prizor: Odprejo se vrata zelo starikave sobe z baročnimi tapetami. V sobo stopi starka, grbasta, zgubana s skuštranimi belimi lasmi. Njene oči so oči ovčice, njen obraz je mil, umirjen, nedolžen – skoraj naiven. Pod desno pazduho tišči koš za perilo. Zrak v sobi je zatohel, smrdi po alkoholu. Namršči obraz in si z roko pomaha pred nosom. V oči ji pade nagnjena slika na steni. Na njej je star portret nje in njenega sina. Popravi sliko in z roko na srcu zadovoljno vzdihne. To je njen otročiček. Pred njenimi nogami se znajde majica. Starka jo skrbno pobere in položi v koš. Ob postelji najde še moško spodnje perilo in ga položi v koš. Pobere še hlače, ki pa imajo že rahlo kiselkast vonj, zato se njen starikav obraz ponovno namršči. Po sobi nemoteno pobira razmetane obleke. Nato jo predrami nenavaden zvok iz omare. Odpre vrata in najde črn, širok in debel tresoč se predmet v obliki cevi. Prvič ga vidi. Z rokami ga strese, si ga ogleduje, ga prisloni k ušesu in ponovno strese. Odloži koš in z drugo roko podrgne po zaobljenem vrhu tresoče se cevi. Sumi, da je neke vrste sveča in išče vžigalno vrvico. Povoha vrh predmeta in zdrami jo močan, ribji vonj. Ponovno zguba obraz in vrže cev nazaj v omaro. Cev se nenadoma preneha tresti. Starka pobere koš in pospravlja naprej. Najde še en nenavaden predmet. Iz predala omarice ob postelji visi črna, usnjena vrv. Starka jo povleče ven. Začudeno jo opazuje – le kaj rabi sinek bič v predalu? Prime bič in z njim zamahne po zraku, nato ga pospravi nazaj v predal. Ob biču v predalu zagleda nenavadne črne spodnjice. Dvigne jih kvišku in obrne proti svetlobi. Spodnjice imajo eno večjo luknjo, dve manjši in dva čudna špičasta izrastka. Obraz se ji razjasni – to pa niso spodnjice. To pa ve, kaj je. Iz njenih ust pride beseda: BATMAN. Ob ugotovitvi zadovoljno pospravi masko nazaj v predal. Odide še na drugo stran postelje in ponovno ji pozornost pritegne nenavaden kos oblačila. Ta je roza barve. In čipkast. Ženske hlačke. Starka se gibčno skloni proti tlom. Njena ogromna rit s starinskim krilom je videti kot gmota blaga z vzorcem rož, ki spominja na kup zaves pred pranjem ...