Bubbles

I have a bubble called me
a spherical cocoon sewn of thoughts,
convictions, prejudices, loves and hatreds,

You have a bubble called you,
I barely see you through your you-bubble,
you barely see me through my me-bubble

Then you try to extend your bubble over mine,
gobble it up
through love, you say,
and I believe that
because I feel that
by avoiding the failed attempt
to know that

And I’m resisting to your bubble,
and try to break it through,
to reach you
to pull you out like a trophy
and look at you
and your transparent heart

 

Briefcase of Hell

Each one of us carries
his briefcase of hell
attached to his wrist
like a tracking bracelet for inmates

A Spanish train mechanic
who killed eighty people
because he was careless
has a bigger briefcase
then my father teenager
who permanently damaged
the eye of his brother,
my uncle teenager,
through playful mistake,
showing him how a match set alight
can fly
high up in the sky

When I met you
I laid down
my briefcase of hell
on the table between us
and I said:
This is the piece of private hell
I constantly carry with me.
Can you still love me?

And you said:
Each one of us carries
his briefcase of hell
attached to his wrist
like a tracking bracelet for inmates

Then you showed me
your briefcase

Unnoticed

Most of the day,
throughout the long drudge of the hour,
I live unnoticed,
unremarked,
unaccounted for,
not worth the frail, flickering thought
in somebody’s mind,
including those who love me
or just care about me

I believe this means
being a human being
in the human jungle
of human demeanors

It’s daunting to think
that most part of the day
I’m on my own
on this tiny, vulnerable planet
chained down by the whims
of a star,
a regular, boring celestial object
covered
with the thick, heavy crust
of its inhabitants’ thoughts and feelings
stuck to a hard core
of chemical elements

I walk the street
while the others step on my shadow
and they never feel a thing
and many times
they don’t even notice the shadow
that is me
or if they see it,
they take me for another shadow
the shadow of a tree,
or a venerable building,
or a dying dove

The only way
to fix my invisibility
is to keep thinking about you
the one I love, the one I care about,
my partner into a flimsy boat
we paddle together
on the roughed up sea of time.

That makes me feel less lonely.
and less unnoticed,
and more visible
on this noisy, lonely planet
astray in a corner of this taciturn,
cavernous universe

People with Big Mansions

Those people owning big mansions
on the beautiful lake shore,
they cannot stand their power anymore,
as with a thing they got accustomed to and cannot bear,
they reject it because of too much usage,
of too much seeing it around,
of too much wear and tear.

They hate their wives, those obsolete, silly trophies,
they hate their select cars, their select ties, their select clubs,
they hate the dumb obedience of their financial orderlies,
the taste in women of their friends, the nabobs,
they hate the power they hold on other peoples’ lives
those humble, worthless creepy-crawlies
which barely make a living, carried by the welfare trollies
happily swarming around through their anonymous hives.

Now they cannot just trod around in their big rooms,
the unused, heavily adorned study room, the majestic den,
they get strayed through the dark corridors of their private dooms,
they get tired when the reach the end of their twisted, long hallways
and there’s no exit to the Garden of Eden
all they wish is for their children, to always
be there, above everything, above all
that should be the family goal.

They’d like to challenge the almighty God right then, right there,
To see who harbors more strength, who harness more power,
who’s carrying more clout in his existential manger,
who can do what and when and where,
but God’s a coward, he never shows his face up,
and this is something they cannot bear,
don’t teach a satrap how to deal with a satrap,
they raise their clenched fists and yell in anger:
God, show up your face, show up your strength
I want to measure myself with you,
I won’t let you be
till I know who’s mightier,
there’s no competitor worthy of me
in your kingdom!

But God constantly ignores their chime,
and sends instead an accident, a cancer, a deep pain
that’s how God works, that’s how his ways are lain,
the cowardly God, the owner of the time

And what’s left to the people with big mansions
on the beautiful lake shore
is to hate themselves, their lives, the other peoples’ lives,
their easy, happy, fulfilling bonding
so bored of winning it all,
so mad of being the winners of nothing