This November there seems to be nothing to say.

Untitled by Lover-and-the-Wild

November you are my favorite color. You are always the late folk that is unremembered. Cold but gentle. Some people don’t get your purpose. Because you are not for everyone.   You are the judge of fall. You are the look of hunger in a man with heat, is enough to lift an old woman from her knees. As a piece of confusion, he’s been looking for. He was declining to die, but now he’s coming back for more. The speculation of an old man when gets you apart, you can’t see what is coming, but there is a tree standing all stick and bones. You are a blind joke, which purpose is not to make you laugh. You are the saddest of the year. Of wailing winds, and naked woods with foggy air. You are the confusing echoes of people screaming and birds crying for homes. You are a closed window with fire in eyes. You are a weak heart of which injury was made back in spring when everything is born, and it blows in the summer, fulfilling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the coolness thunderstorms come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight when you need it most, it stops. What an old soul you are, barely can move but never wants to die.

This November there seems to be nothing to say.

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Our souls don’t sleep at night.

The Somnambulist by NataliaDrepina

Time they said… Time will heal all wounds but they lied.

 So, you go on, with your broken parts, trying to find someone to fix them. No one can fix, or heal, or bandage you.

– What about me?

-Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds? If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked. I know you can kiss my wounds with your soft lips that can numb them. But the numbness is not forever. Because to heal, you have to get to the root of the wound and kiss al the way up. The only thing that could heal that deep scar is me by taking you there.

– Do you think you are strong enough?

– Stronger than you. I know by looking into your eyes. I can see frustration, nervousness in your red veins; you can’t hide your sad part. You are transparent. Whenever you feel you can be happy, sad, joking, high. But for me, I am always a happy smile with sadness in the eyes. The good part is, nobody looks there to see.

–  Why are you always happy?

– I am not. I am just stronger. My soul is a hidden piano that plays at night by a blind little girl. My soul is crying while I sleep. He is mourning in quietness so nobody can see, hear or feel. Crying without words, in peace. Slow, as a late rain in the middle of the summer. He is letting go all my pretended smiles, all my thoughtfulness, all my issues, everything that my body is trying to deceive. Down to the river, while everyone falls asleep.

He is doing gently because he doesn’t want to wake me up. He does not know that tears sometimes leave marks on my face. This loneliness of my soul crying at night is like a balm for the wounds in my soul.

For Women Who Are “Difficult” to Love’

Sadness by FabriziaMiliaPhotos
He compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
Says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you to forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with the memory of a taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more, tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him traveling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love? split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

I’ll keep it forever.

anina_bird_128_1_by_anina_bird-d64zf43Would it be fair if I don’t say anything right now? Just give me this moment, I swear I’ll keep it forever.
Would it be fair If I don’t say a word, but at the same time there are thousands of words digging in my soul?
Could you tell how come we let this happened? Could we tell that we are wrong?But God, when our soul is touching each other when my skin is his skin when my smell becomes his smell when his lips go down on my neck. Could you tell me what is this? Would it be fair if…
I forgot what this moment looks like, I forgot that can be so strong.
I am afraid to ruin it, I am afraid that will never happen. I afraid to break it.
Shhh..don’t say anything, nothing matters when your there. Stay there, and I’ll take each inch of you. You know how to be with me. Nobody knew. But stay there, let’s drown in a sky full of stars, let’s see how they shine. Stay there, lets breath this crazy air that breaks through our veins.
But stay there, let’s run after our dreams, and laugh if we failed them.
But stay there, just like that, the way I see you, the way I saw you, with light in your eyes and dust in your soul.

I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.  Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around our souls. We are crazy enough to run after seconds and stay still when hours pour down. We do care, but we don’t build the future. Why? Because we know God has better plans for us.

Our veins are on fire. We forgot who we were. But we found out another version.
Don’t promise anything, but can we just keep this moment forever?

Just words on his mind.

 I declare myself an useless ego, right?

There is nothing new for me under the sun,

Am I wrong again? Who am I?

Or just an empty box with some dusty goals.

Being hungry in your life, remember?

You forgot to ask your old soul, why?

There is a clock, and there is a time,

Please, young soul, live the life.

All this was a long time ago, I remember

Throughout the whole life of us, one must continue to learn to live, and one to die,

And I could live it again, everything again,

With my old soul and a hundred times broken heart,

Down there is my life, running from the bottom of my pots, screaming from the top of my lungs,

Can’t you hear young men?

Are we supposed to find the seeking meaning?

I was borrowed by the wind, with a dead body that does not bleed.

I feel again the propel of life, God made my soul with the 3rd eye,

I followed the rules and made myself blind.

And now I see my life from far away, ridiculous time is playing with you young man,

As you don’t know yet how to play a mental life game.

Don’t blame on others, what you can’t see

Don’t blame on others, what you can’t do,

Because you don’t have time!

Selling a second-hand soul!

Seen by AndreyBobir

I sell my second-hand soul. Old soul. Poised few times. Sick in November. Kidney problems. Heart too big. Blind and deaf. Likes only silence, and maybe sometimes in the mood for wind. Usually does not make sense, but almost all the time active. Low blood pressure, losing contact with earth, at least once a month. Cold all the time. Can be fixed if you believe in it. Screams in his dreams. Strong to break each soul once it falls in love. Can’t run, not anymore. No parents. Looking all the time for light, but chooses darkness to live in. No social media, only nature in his pockets. Broken bones, and not much fluids in his veins. Loves Pinot Noir, but is always on antibiotics. Not hungry for food, but eats breakfast on Ludovic Einaudi music.
Does not sleep at night. In love with the laughing of children. But does not laugh at all. Smiles a few times, with sadness in his eyes. Reads a lot, people, books, time, animals, kids, and nature. Looking for sad people.
Takes bath only in the rainy days of autumn. Hates summer. Doesn’t believe in love, once was broked. Enjoys how people drown in their lies. Sits all the time on the top of the mountain, and watches how ridiculously people waste their times and lives. Owns a home in the woods, and a big library.

It is empty and waisted but can work at nights when everybody sleeps. Rechargeable, with the light of the moon. Full of old dust, beating on the old music that can heal hearts. Hollow.  Absent-minded. there is just an empty echo if you need to scream. Dose not have tears, dry as deserd. Can feel the touch of moonlight, wind, and rain. Very talented to keep silence. Escapes every cave. Can’t live alone.

I am not asking for anything except, healing with natural treatment. Acupuncture might help to kill the numbness if you are lucky. Chinese herbs don’t bother to buy, he been there. Anything you want, if you think can help.

The sad clown of this time.

the_sad_clown_by_aiden_ivanov

Don’t worry little clown with sober world under your eyelash,

Don’t be afraid of your reflection in mirror,

If you can’t take this life without the mask, it’s okay,

Just don’t lose who you are in your mask.

Drown your face in your pure tears,

Paint your sad face in color of happiness,

Cover your body in bandages for open wounds,

And live their life, but not become like them,

And play their game, but not lose like them.

Questioningly he expresses the need he feels to walk by your side

In the crowd that stare at his stupidity

He sees his own reflection

Crying for his rejection

And you laugh.

What a show, a true delight

Cannot be he cries at night!

 

 

President Trump didn’t bought America!

jabba_the_trump_by_gunsmithcat-danq6mt

It’s a big regression for America. Yesterday I was sure that America will chose liberty,democracy,  free society where we are able to make choices, where we are able to respect each others, doesn’t matter if we are white, black, men or women, where you can give individuals freedoms and holding them accountable. Yesterday I was sure that America will never be something that you can buy or sell, that for first she can be history before to be a good economy. I was sure that America will be a good place to make your dreams, but not a dishonest way to make good money.

America wasn’t just country where you can make a really good money, she was another planet if I can say that, planet that had the most perfect form of government, the most exciting sporting events, the tastiest food and amplest portions, the largest cars, the cheapest gasoline, the most abundant natural resources, the most productive farms, the most devastating nuclear arsenal and the friendliest, most decent and most patriotic folks on Earth, where you could discover yourself in a good way, where she pushed you to work for yourself and to forget about self-pity.

But now America will be a great country for white people,middle class-and male, heterosexual, now we know that they can do anything with us ( female) because we won’t be respected anymore.It’s not America’s victory! This is their victory, they won and it’s not funny anymore for rest of us.For America today 11/09/2016 is a degeneration, I can say that.And I don’t know how that could happened.

It’s that way we should learn history in school, not just mathematics. Did America needed that, or to be a country which stands on principles?

America you will never be great again, and I am afraid of those 59,589,821 votes that after all, if the president of the “I can do anything”world can grab a women by the pussy, they will ask why can’t I ?I am afraid that Trump’s ridiculous and vacuous language will be normalized.It may be ridiculous to fighting for a reduction in sexual assault when the president of America doesn’t care and can do whatever he wants. I am afraid of those people that for them it’s more important a economic situation then morale principles.

Maybe there is something that we can take from Trump. He believes that nothing is impossible; that you can do anything, you can be a Reality T.V. star one day and President of the most powerful country the next. So I ask, why should increased gender, racial or religious equality be an impossibility even under a Trump presidency? Today is the type of day we have to say  ‘we may have lost the battle, but we haven’t lost the war’.

Who am I America? A woman who wanted to be respected but start from today I can expect everything from them, and I can’t even say something because my words doesn’t mean anything.

And who you are America?

When Americans say it was great I know it was good. When they say it was good, I know it was okay. When they say it was okay, I know it was bad.And today is the day that we are okay!!

The important job of American voters yesterday was  to determine which hearts, minds and souls command those qualities best suited to unify a country rather than further divide it, to heal the wounds of a nation as opposed to aggravate its injuries, and to secure for the next generation a legacy of choices based on informed awareness rather than one of reactions based on unknowing fear.Read again, and think if that famous “poet” Trump with his poetry was the best choice for America.

I can do anything!

‘I just start kissing them.

It’s like a magnet.

Just Kiss.

I don’t even wait.

And when you’re a star they let you do it.

You can do anything.

Grab them by the pussy.

You can do anything.’

Can he become a real president that America needs ?

 

Don’t run.

dusty_moths_by_nataliadrepina-d9facna

Dear Soul,

I know that with every single day you lose your breath. I am trying to create for you an abyss, maybe you can hide from this world.  If you can wait for me a little longer I will take you in that place where you should be. I can feel that you are afraid of this world, of these fake people who pretend to be real, afraid of this life. I can feel you in every single second. I am afraid too.

I know, you cannot breathe in this city, and I am so scared to lose you. Every single morning has the same reason, and you know that in your place it is autumn almost.  I close my eyes for a moment, in that only moment I feel how time passes through me. The sky dies in every single sunset, the sunset dies in every shade of moon, and I lose myself in the ocean. Just the ocean can listen how my soul sunken and cries out loud.

I can’t escape. Don’t run from me. I will give to you silence from shades of a moon, piano, sky, and ocean, but don’t run. I will give you peace, the one that you have been looking for. I will give you words, in all the languages. I will stay still with you until late, I will be honest and no one and nothing will change me.

I am nothing without you. I’m nothing, just bones. A lonely ghost burning down songs of violence, of piano, autumn, love, and sorrow. I’m just a broken piece.

Sometimes I just can’t breathe without you. I am so scared about this life and how people can use each other. I was used, and still, I have nothing to use. I am down, down.

I am scared that I will never find who I am. Who I am really? One day I will be so tired to wake up. I am so scared that I will never go where I want to be. I am scared to lose my soul.

I feel pain in all my body, like rust that is in all my bones, my veins and breathe even. I feel pain in my mind when I am trying to sleep. I have all my fragile spine broken, all my memories are broken. They ask me to smile, I can hide all my fears, of course, I can.

I know you want to run. If I could, I would run with you. But wait, this city won’t destroy us.

 

Fragile Spine.

slumbering_gloom_by_nataliadrepina-d87em2v.jpg

Avem frageda maduva spinarii, impartita-n spatii cu cutit,

Blestemati sa purtam in spinare, timpul in mii de secole impartit,

Respiratii taiate pana-n pamanturi, ne intalnim in luna si intr-un lac,

Unde seara la sfarsit de viata, ne ingropam cuvintele in veac.

Tu prea trista, obosita-n taina, raspunzi timpului grabit,

Eu mancata de singuratate, n-am nici liniste de apus si rasarit.

Plangem in roua diminetii, ce in soapta cade pe pamant,

Urma ei pe suflet ne tot lasa, amintire noastra si un gand.

Ne luptam in lumi tot diferite, si ne zbatem sa iesim la mal,

Radacini de toamna sufocata, esti spatiul care il mai am.

Si cadem in nostalgia toamnei, ne tot frangem intr-un apus,

Ostenite sa respiram printe cuvinte, sa spunem lumii ce demult n-am spus.