on waffles
there is a time for silence.
there is a time when i must struggle for words.
some days i must write and say as little as possible.
there is a season for everything under heaven.
but today, i want to shout your name from the rooftops.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
1967
melody floated on perfumed breezes
vibrant colors and patterns swayed from winds and hips
daisies haloed gentle people
cut grass and locusts
watermelon
cloud illusions and pipers at the gates of dawn
ella whispers not
it's easy
diamond cherries groove
are you a believer?
i'd like to know if summer is here.
vibrant colors and patterns swayed from winds and hips
daisies haloed gentle people
cut grass and locusts
watermelon
cloud illusions and pipers at the gates of dawn
ella whispers not
it's easy
diamond cherries groove
are you a believer?
i'd like to know if summer is here.
Monday, June 9, 2008
kizkalesi
turkey august 1997
i walked the shores of the mediterranean on a peaceful august eve. it had been a long week. i had a byzantine style bug after drinking something funny. i had walked the streets of adana alone shocked by the number of women and children begging. in mersin, an albino turkish woman and her two children dry and parched, begged me for food. for drink. for life. they will forever be etched in my memory like a tattooed soliloquy of the truest woe. the toothless man and the woman with one leg also stretched their souls out for filling. frail planet. frail love. frail compassion. failed mercy.
i carried the weight of the world as i pensively stepped forward in contemplat
ive wonder. i stepped forward past the pounding tide and the castle of ladies. i moved unaware of what was in front of me, unaware where i was going. and then an image stole my gaze, caused my chest to stop heaving, stilled every thought, every worry, and sighing ceased. she danced one way and he danced the other. their movements fluid and profuse. graceful. gentle turkish folk music guided their plights as they traveled away from each other. and then for a brief moment around this circle of independent tarrying, they would move together. just for a moment though. and when they would move together, the dance became more brilliant, more captivating, more. after several rotations, the music stopped. the man, the woman together in an understood embrace, a sigh-filled pause. when the music began again, this time they moved together. he led forward. she followed. and their movements were in unison. it was the most beautiful dance my eyes have ever witnessed. and i was stunned by the quiet elegance.
has the arabesque ballad begun?
i walked the shores of the mediterranean on a peaceful august eve. it had been a long week. i had a byzantine style bug after drinking something funny. i had walked the streets of adana alone shocked by the number of women and children begging. in mersin, an albino turkish woman and her two children dry and parched, begged me for food. for drink. for life. they will forever be etched in my memory like a tattooed soliloquy of the truest woe. the toothless man and the woman with one leg also stretched their souls out for filling. frail planet. frail love. frail compassion. failed mercy.
i carried the weight of the world as i pensively stepped forward in contemplat
ive wonder. i stepped forward past the pounding tide and the castle of ladies. i moved unaware of what was in front of me, unaware where i was going. and then an image stole my gaze, caused my chest to stop heaving, stilled every thought, every worry, and sighing ceased. she danced one way and he danced the other. their movements fluid and profuse. graceful. gentle turkish folk music guided their plights as they traveled away from each other. and then for a brief moment around this circle of independent tarrying, they would move together. just for a moment though. and when they would move together, the dance became more brilliant, more captivating, more. after several rotations, the music stopped. the man, the woman together in an understood embrace, a sigh-filled pause. when the music began again, this time they moved together. he led forward. she followed. and their movements were in unison. it was the most beautiful dance my eyes have ever witnessed. and i was stunned by the quiet elegance.has the arabesque ballad begun?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)