The other side of Dostoevsky...(7/6)

A very short and yet destined routing in St Petersburg brought me to the home of Dostoevsky, now the museum to commemorate the great Russian writer in town. Located at the corner of Kuznechny and Yamskaya, the address is now next to the local market where everyday life goes on. My memory is still in the freezing Moscow when I first visited to his apartment in childhood time adjacent to the asylum. Now here when he passed his last part of life with his family in St Petersburg. His surrounding always provided him with a visionary world of imagination with his faith and belief. His working table and chair, his cigarette case, the dimmy environment filled up with the soul of the karamazov brothers. A clock clicked still at the moment on 28 January 1881, the eternity of life and death...

The old man...(15/6)

the clogging wheelchair goes nowhere, i may have been too close,
and there is no need to approach any further, the heat is just remote...
pins and holes, in and out of the glamourous eden world,
i know the roses will fall one day,
can i pick them up again, when the light is yet dim.
passing, swinging, coming, it has always been there.
clotting red, why is there any fluid sound of urging?
when it falls, it would just be another way to fade away.
detaching the mode and mood,
can you see the moth staying on the moon?

zirhcss...(25/1)

http://zirhcss.blogspot.com/

Europe is my playground...(23/1)

Run with me baby
let your hair down
through every station
through every town... 'Europe is our playground', the London Suede
run with me baby
let's take a chance
from Heathrow to Hounslow
from the Eastern Block to France
Europe is our playground
London is our town
so run with me baby now
Run with me baby
let your hair down
through every station
through every town
run with me baby
let's make a stand
from peepshow to disco
from Spain to Camber Sands
Europe is our playground
London is our town
so run with me baby now...

There's a light in last night's dream...(11/1)

It's been long time ago...
"Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me" - the Smiths
Last night I dreamt
that somebody loved me
no hope - but no harm
just another false alarm
Last night I felt
real arms around me
no hope - no harm
just another false alarm
so, tell me how long
before the last one?
and tell me how long
before the right one?
this story is old - I KNOW
but it goes on
this story is old - I KNOW
but it goes on

"There is a light that never goes out" - the Smiths
Take me home tonight
where there's music and there's people
who are young and alive
driving in your car
I never never want to go home
because I haven't got one anymore
Take me home tonight
because I want to see people
and I want to see life
driving in your car
oh please don't drop me home
because it's not my home, it's their home
and I'm welcome no more
and if a double-decker bus
crashes in to us
to die by your side
is such a heavenly way to die
and if a ten ton truck
kills the both of us
to die by your side
well the pleasure, the privilege is mine
Take me home tonight
take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
and in the darkened underpass
I thought Oh God, my chance has come at last
but then a strange fear gripped me
and I just couldn't ask
Take me home tonight
oh take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
driving in your car
I never never want to go home
because I haven't got one
no, I haven't got one
And if a double-decker bus
crashes in to us
to die by your side
is such a heavenly way to die
and if a ten ton truck
kills the both of us
to die by your side
well the pleasure, the privilege is mine
There is a light that never goes out
There is a light that never goes out
There is a light that never goes out
There is a light that never goes out

Images of Victorian...(29/12)

It was the Victorian period in the mid-19th century. There were a few moments of the darker side of the city, of the faces, of the cities, in the mourning weep, and cooling water flew...after dark, people found out an intensified sense of loneliness and nobody. The strengthened bridge road was a bridge of sighs. Only the flowing river could bring away the dirt of the days, a euphemistic way.
Little sister's gone to sleep. Her playing toy's still positioning upright, In the armchair, it was ready. Staring at the distance, it was blinking with a touch of hope. The smiling face had never changed, like the always-young face of the clown, a euphemistic way to say regret. The once-very-warm coat, left alone, sank into the freezing dusk of sightless still. Human circle shrunk. It was the time. Ladies were always the character, another euphemistic means to cover the pain from men.

Fatal attack of the drowning marais, sounds like a zipping tequila drought in nowhere...(27/12)

Suddenly, it becomes lighter and lighter. Spiralling down onto the floor, a realistic approach to the base with the feather weight...dispatched, dislocated, the chaotic pattern leaves an enigma for the disorientation, a mismatch of the black and white tiles that reflect a glancing motion of the street and the strangers. Some on the air, some landed, it is a search of a next cohesiveness. Border, lining at the unlimited space, it deserves an der schönen blauen Donau. Functionality, sensitiveness, life and after life. We are strangers to loads and gravity. Again, and more, and intensity, and intensification. The black tie, a shelter of the darkness, sightless, requiem, epitaph.

Autumn nerves...(16/10)

This is the colour, the colour when the nerves connect. The elements of colours tune according to the exposure of light, a gesture of awareness of an appearance...
The connection seems to be remote, and overlapping between branches is the source of shadow and unknown. It is the source of discovery, some fun maybe. The colour burns in red, in pink, in maroon, in brown, in dash, in ashes. It goes back to the basic. Home, sweet home.

Bending, branching, blocking, blunting. It looks blurred. I embrace the network of evolution. No, it is yet a stage of metamorphosis. A butterfly shines, it has the collage of colours and glories, but then, time is short. It flies until it finds the old brick wall to cover itself up into eternal silence.

This is the moment when this is no longer the moment...

Hallelujah...(2/1)

(a piece inspired by Grace of Jeff Buckley, 1994)
seems to get love
no no no no...
god sends the children from up
down to the world it dumps
a world of soul
morning a day that gets old
a whispering song it plays it goes

if a step can go further on a way
if i can get a chance to choose my gate
hand in the fate
go and pick the star from the lazy sky
hanging in the air a current of why

it's bleeding day and night
if i step out before it steps in its right
oooo
a portrait of the light
gloomy and slight
eternity starts in a shelter you never think of

the feather goes up and up
like the flight
no one looks back
a string tights the kite
unstable, irrational
rising the voice to call a name

a spoiling moment
what is the past that last
a broken curtain closes a part of my eye
the shadow casts
my inner soul

there is no time for a second thought
when we march we march
tell the circuit that electrons flow
am i going to mess it
a flow that never flows
yeah

a total release onto the hitting wall
bang bang
a sound so sound, a while so wild
a violence of love
a peace of silence
picture goes wider and wider
don't know what is watching me

a way to go further
the film stays still
a butterfly flaps its wing
a wing of dream

the oriental bell
a ring that waits for the dusk
tender fits
love hurts
stay, stay
I call your name
because your voice keeps going till day end

a panaramic view from the cable car
high in the air
perhaps it's getting cool
I should give the light blessings
a therapy to hide
action is all that should avoid
it breathes
like what was I

A Year...(1/1)

Year passes year...
Nowhere a stop the gear
the bird is crowned in fear
how much the one can bear
not only time steals no tear
year passes year
history murmurs in weird
daylight goes into cheers
with the bitter beer
further down to get near
year passes year

La porte d'enfer...(14/12)

the corpse quietly hit onto the dark side of the door,
the pair of uneven surface covering the gateway.
the twin opened slowly, and the body stood still...
be it the dense layer of thick air covering the visibility,
the pair of eyes closed when there was no need to see.
cured soul borne the unwanted goals,
followers followed.
dizzy rain, holy scream,
the falling angel was on the way to dim.
direction, intersectable,
a twisting wind had hollowed out.
a paper on chorcoal,
light as a wish,
a day with no surrender,
this is the dawn that blendered.
hasty elbow lusts love.

L'automne...(20/10)

A feeling of tranquility and quietness,
the season of autumn,
the blessing to my heart once every 365 days,
a lovely environment with breezes and coolness,
simply would I take the advantage to immerse myself to the transition between cold and heat,
falling leaves pave the path that fills up the dullness of cement,
red leaves, yellow leaves,
this is a sign calling for a refreshed mind,
a total me,
in the world of thee,
big big bang.

leaving the leaves...(18/10)

falling down,
piece by piece,
floating in the air,
descending,
down to earth,
landing,
shivering left and right,
is this the symbol of what a cooling wind blows?
in front of the colouring trees,
beside the road,
ahead of me...
Light is the texture
flying high,
the surface does not exist,
time just proves,
where leaves behind,
are leaves in colours,
changing time after time...