Soodaroo in Love
Fairy Tale
By Behak Rouintan
There was this little boy
Sitting on the stairs
A pencil in his hand
His shoe lace untied
"Look! this is a horse,
This is the castle."
He told me the story
Of a princess trapped
"And this: the Knight
Fighting the dragon.
"This is the princess
Awaiting her champion."
I took the pencil
And drew the knight messy black hair;
He gave the princess my jeans.
Behak – she is one of my best friend – wrote this tale some ages ago – probably before birth of Holy Christ. Thank you Behak, for both your poem and permit for publishing it in my blog. You know my friend; I want you to see that it is too easy to be in the world, so come to our world: we would be please to have a nice writing of a young girl talking, we will wait for you.
Soodaroo
2006-12-08
11:00 PM
BlographaphobiaThe terrified images of all souls gathering up in my minds
In night cold as if a falcon passing around your breathe,
And witness of the shrill dance of clouds all around me
Made me mad.
I was in the middle of passing cars in the highway I do not recognize which
That all the things parted and gone in the wind,
Like music of nature: They lost their shape, they become starts, they dance in the sky,
They made me mad.
That was the time, while I thought I am in the city, night, cars
That everything was gone, I was alone
Alone and clouds were merely dreams of days which never trusted by a soul
And I trust: I whom must call mad.
I was mad, I was lonely, I was terrified,
I though; this is death, and that was death,
All around me, all in my breathe; all in my loneliness was death.
And I was mad; I was a lost soul among all soul in the picture of dead dream of lost Pharaoh.
And that was the point, nothing, nothing was left, and that was me, in the mirror of your hands
(And your chocolate body of softness)
And the memories all traveled in my mind maded version of your sculpture of Love,
That I become all awake again, in your love breathe of a sleep of become all awake,
And . . .
It was a dream, like all the last lost one which was rarely sweet,
And I am still, still mad.
Soodaroo
2006-12-06
10:26 PM
Oh yes, fake me with your tender lies, I am patience. I am always here, sit and look at your magic, your hand, the way you come near me, look in my eyes and tell one of your lies to me and I would be motionless staring to your eyes and love you and smell you and think that’s at last you are here and
You fake me, again and again and I am patience and I do not say, do not do anything
Because I . . .
How much I lost you I do not know . . .
How much I need you, you cannot imagine . . .
But . . .
You know this morning I cried in hand of imaginary friend once more. Today I think and found nothing and hide myself among my books, my works, and my plan and . . .
Everything else is fake, you know, you are real . . .
You are real and how much I lost you . . .
Soodaroo
2006-11-28
00:07 AM
Song of the Lost Light
Lines written meditating upon Stolen Beauty, the movie directed by Bernardo Bertolouchi
I penetrate into the depth of the silence forcefully
And witness the drops of death dropping on my shoulders heavily
Like a rainbow of a long lost tomb they gather in the sky
All the gray colors of that night.
Sick beyond words I wake up every time
And find myself among the clichés of snoring clouds
Murmuring some dreams of their own life to each other and laugh
- All gathering there, in the sky I witness.
Sleep walker as I am pass all the naughty chambers of the lost poems
And not lost – not this time
When the flowers all bloomed in the dooryard forever
And song would sing in heart for you and me
All in that time, in that dream I witness.
Her skin was white and lips was tempting
To my sight of all ever lost wishes of completeness I thought
And it was she and all the things of Love
All gathered to punish my laziness of making sight.
All in that dream I gained, I forgot.
And I lost.
O silence, let me sing, sing for one more time.
Soodaroo
2006-11-12
01:10 AM
The Party of Night
The saloon was filled with phantoms all unknown
With smile and laugh, making the future of the country wage and lust
And all I could do was think of her fair smile and fair love
To do not lost among them.
The grass was wet and the entire city was dreaming under shadow of a night
We stop for a while, all fog and all unmistakable giant gathering to sing
Sing something about future, and lust.
All I remember was shaking in the cold red night.
And I was afraid, all my body was cold, deadly cold and I thought:
Am I lost? I thought of all my sin and the giant laugh at me,
They said how funny you are.
Inside I know that it was not a dream.
It was all I remember: smiles: you, yes you
And all the other things was fake
Imagination of some dark things upon an earth to full it with silence
And night and snows which were not white but all red, red with taste of blood.
I was back; I was sitting, and while all the dark images burn inside me
I open the book to read and there was sit a poet, old and clam
Singing some ballad to a love of lost days
And all I felt was a tear in my heart.
Soodaroo
2006-11-10
12:00 PM
We are inherited with the gift of healing. Something like that the actress said in the movie, I turn off the DVD and to covering silence listen to something, music, who cares what? Just music is always good, and I need to write, anything, just write, maybe it can heal me.
I know you hate English and you hate more French, still I love to say something like I still in love with you while I know you never read them. Because they written in damn English and you hate what I love. It’s good to write when you are still sick and you would not see me anymore and . . .
You know, today I am working in my second book, translation from American book and . . . it was good, you know I am sure it was good, translation and work calm me down and I did nothing but
But image of you sitting beside me
I don’t know if you would ever remember that day, after kissing each other we sat in the floor and ate an apple, one we ate together and you look to my books and smile in your face and all the good things around us and
I lost that days too much, you know it is too hard, I mean too hard to pass all these days, alone, and the only thing good around me is books, work and studying and music in which I try helplessly to cover all silence and
You are not here.
It is the only fact I cannot understand that you are not here.
It is . . . how can I describe it in words . . . how is possible to forget all that years and now, three years passed too fast and everything past and I am a bit famous these days and growing to be more and more known, but known to what? To be all the way far from you and you
What you do in these days? Fighting with death? Why you never told me what was the real sickness you have?
I need to write and I think I will write and you know, I am writing a novel, everybody things that this novel is about something, love between 4 person and . . . things they did not know is that whole novel is about that days, days that I lost so much
You know, so much
. . .
Still your Soodaroo
2006-11-08
11:50 PM
All the Way Down
Exercise silence in this dreamy days of spring nights
With a smile in top of your face
And meditate while the Google would find the answers
To all but the simple questions of life
And then you can bye another copy of the New Yorker
In sake of finding something good, to hide the nature of the light
In your dreadful coffee and unmerciful biscuit
And while you stand, waiting nothing to come
Anything can attract you
Anything but sexy hands of an ancient dead beloved, gay perhaps in this days not fair blond lover of Shakespeare’s Hamlet,
Anything while you exercise silence and all the things that come
In the dreamful days of a spring nights
With a smile in your face and a Google at hand.
Soodaroo
2006-11-02
10:50 PM
