others may never come back to the
larches of their mendable childhoods,
to pending memories of separation,
of exhausted electrical love.
they depict the phases and shades of
shared lips, of their mulberry otherness.
they consecrate their ephemeral luminosity to
foretoken histories, to never ending formalisms
of romantic luster and window-covered sharings.
where is the stolen reciprocity, our rechargeable
union, the lust, the recently achieved make-belief,
the eye-service and receptivity we’ve longed for ?
how can we mediate between our
thrustings, recriminations and the common
will of recreating a past of ecstatically
written glorification : theirs is a history of
transformation nourished by shared
senses and the harbors of embrace.
lap of honour
a slightly green window opened in my
mouth. i’ve clothed the yawning circumstantiality
of my sentimental warehouse. i’m about to
reopen my heart to the city lights of
unstable nights. i double the sound of my
flashlights : they would always like to be found
and shifted from misgrounded modernity. there’s
a need of multiple forms, bodily modality, otherness
and sacred closeness in times of gravity. who can
comprehend the methods to measure the
diameters of eternity? i’m constantly
reenchanted by the contours of their
rationality seeking the auxiliary lines
of passion. life is a travesty, a foliation of
ancient forebodings flowering in completion.
a faraway cry echoes in my eyes ; a yearning
of distant lands, a future recitating glory, a
foot-walk of fire repotting the ribbons of
my soul. we can’t talk about trancendence on the
phone. i’m funny in my jogging shoes, stretching
my limbs to reach the box of the wishes of the
well-known others. we all need to smile
when the exposure burns limits to the moment ;
a new horizon pops out of the time-honoured
blues of skies. we’re on an expedition
of hope with an evolution ending in forgotten
dimensions. we surrender ourselves to the
constraints of inevitable roundabouts : being-other.
but how could we save the energy of innovation?
a glowing symphony lobbies for a
future of flickering flashes, swaying in
the late afternoon breeze, inflaming our
lost visions. we desperately need the
music of calm summer sunsets, composed
by other, unknown artists, to blow our
secret wishes in the wind. how could we
strengthen the basement of our spirit,
amorously plaster the skim peeling off
of our abandoned illusions.
we never give up the hope of
comforting the jagged knives, the
sworn wives, the mass that stumbled
halfway charmed by the light of
unscholarly celestial phenomena. aren’t
we always in desperate need of the Other
to exist? i was hoping that you were going
to be indulgent with me and slip into
my bed. unperceived. intercurrence.
a hiatus in time. on your chest. you
are definitely indispensable in your
light blue bra. the concert season will
commence with a slight rain of thoughts.
a rain to wash away our agonies, our
indignation and incredulity. we’re always
seated among others. i found you when
you were blessed by the passing
storm. a lifetime. a glance. oceans of
clouds. the everlasting asks for admittance.
i’m bricked up in you.
photographies > Eszter Katalin Szép > http://eszterszep.wix.com/photography
textes > Károly Sándor Pallai > http://pallaikaroly.com/