a sNaiL wAlK
Substantia grisea inside that room, very clean and crisp sound of blood fall, dark swallowed the light with the help of closed windows. Enticed to fish a vicarious punishment to self. A dirty death was not familiar, but really floating inside my veins, like a message in a bottle on the water, like a lonely morning star, like an unread love letter, like a wench at the park. Transparent pink body inside her belly changed her as a goddess. Little heart beats confused her accounts. She walked slowly like a snail carrying her expectations and tight doubts like her dress. It happened again in her bag, a murder in a wet room. Baby, little baby, beautiful pain want to push her out from its costly circles. Hold it once, kiss her once to kill the temper, she begged inside her to push her soul out from her small little space. Reminders were teared from her desk. Her shelves were cleaned up and washed away the dirty water. She have started to think to bury her purposes. The time has sold away the valuable reasons that she had never really liked to share with anyone. She is staring at life like a empty canvas which is waiting for a painter. Collecting habit of mind is not collecting the groovy needs. Obvious presence of facts were imprisoned by the unexpected spots. Details were erased by the professionals without any witnesses. There is little corrections in this, but she looked at it more than errors.
wOodY
A chill, a bone chill, deeply penetrated into a deep cut. Sleazy cut but showed a colloidal chilled blood. Chilled veins, a soft water from the hanging bottle near by my white bed. Some white skirt angels touched my forehead, applied my neck. I fumbled towards the white window. Fall and call and kill the chill, forget the pills my bloody bitches. Scheduled calm down time for my chill time again to propose my lusty saliva. The chillness pierced my nights. Chilled terrestrial black bodies moving inside the room. Lick my pus, drink my pus, shake my pus, check the pulse of my pus. Its an extreme fire, moving speeder than the comet. Smelt the crack of space ass and it was chiller than the killer inside my body. The grip of tears loosened from the skull’s hidden eyes. Believed the pieces of mirrors on the floors that shows my chilled dead body. Unshaved pubic hair and white skin became more whiter than the semen. Its my room, a room of one’s own, her bitchy writings on my body. Criticized possibilities are crying on my shoulders to feed words, words and just chilled words.
cOnfabUlaTioN anD mAgic salT
“No, its not B major, just D. Now try”, the music traveling in a different tune.
“25,000 ft hole under the earth, a very bountiful romantic society”
“Who?”
“Russians. Brainy rogues. I love them. Don’t stare at me like that. Its true”
“He talks with plants and trees”
“Twist and shout. Hmm. keep talking”
“Not only my friend, but my death. A serious conversation with his music, his hands waving, painting on the air.”
“A music comes out from the instruments”
“No, not from the instruments but from his magical composition that really happened from his genius mind, undoubtedly. Found after along time, his filthy behavior inside me, a teasing puppy on the lap of a bubbly girl.”
“Mozart, my Mozart, every one’s music he is. Demanding beauty from the ill heart, beast of beats.”
“Oh! killing violin and his Lacrimosa. The depth of serious illusion through his fingers that spreads aroma. His music paused the time to create a mystic touch of happiness.”
“Words doesn’t mean listening. its is something, a connectivity, something similar, a hidden misty touch through by thinking”
“You think so! you are lazy to flirt with a girl. the reason is a twist”
“Don’t demand like a Marxists. Indeed. Why can’t you allow me to hide for some days in your basement?”
“Don’t you remember joker’s dialogue?, “If you’re good at something, never do it for free.”
“Wow! charming. grand participation of ideas and words”
“Really expecting you at that time with your two lovers”
“Want me to consider anyone’s piece?”
“An experimental way has to indulge in the exact key”
“Sort down the vernaculars to deflect”
“Oh! the kisses are so smelly. Stop eating onion before you kiss. Damn! you are such a disgusting sweet Satan”
“Cutie, get up. breakfast in bed”
“My love, you are a symbol of idiotism. Come on, kiss my nose, my little magic, my buck. leave me and show me your nothingness.”
“I am going to stop reading this book. First twenty five pages are noetic and poetic.”
“Please continue”
“I was on the steps and this girl looked at me as I am going to rape her”
“What did you say?”
“Are you leaving?”
“Then?”
“She nodded her head”
“Its her elegant mistook”
“Did you tried to smell her hair?”
“An adamant hair, causes fire on my tail, a red philosophy.”
“Heard you thrown your guitar in the sea. Is it true?”
“…”
“Is it true? Look, at least to me try to open all your secrets. I really like to help you.”
“…”
“Take your time, cry as much as possible. I will be back later. We should talk.”
“It was a bright day”
“What?”
“Brightest day ever, it was a rainy day.”
“Is it a story kind of?”
“‘Was’ is not only a story, ‘Is’ is also a story”
“Would you confront someone who like to stay away from your coffee cup?”
“I want a new set of dress”
“You are a venomous snake. Peel your skin”
whO nEedS?
When the sun started to play hide and seek, I was listening to the game of waves, my cunning side look went towards the lovers who all are in the edge of lust, and suddenly the past pulled the flavors of feelings out of the blue. All these emotions at once abruptly broken by his voice, “Sir, want some popcorn?” He left from the place after my “No”. Again my sympathetic look followed his shadow, his young legs violently snubbed the sand and me too.
aZita’S hIgH hEelS
Everyone likes Azita’s high heels in that room. She is the only maid wearing high heels to serve wine. She covered her face with white mask. Past six years that high heels is in her yellow legs. Her beauty never resists to smile for groundses. Her small breasts, lean shoulders, oval shape face, slightly bald head are not Azita. She is not her name, living beyond the meanings of her name.Her height is not because of the high heels.
“Azita”
She know about the voice.
“Azita”
She didn’t spend any words to anyone. Living alone in her basement.
“Azita”
She didn’t intend to turn back and to lend her high heels to anyone and she don’t want to.
“Change the mood of the moon, collect the stones to throw to their face”
“I can’t remove my high heels”
She stopped thinking about her mother because of her instant orders. Her dominant mother once burnt her wrist by her cigarette. In a wild midnight, she killed her mother by a kitchen knife.
“Azita, run, run from this place. Don’t eat, be hungry, increase your height”
Voice prompted her to run away from the place. A breeze sliced her eyes, popped out tears drawn a straight line on her cheek.
“Aren’t you curious about heights? Sitting on your chair, a dim light with draggy openings, cold look, incomplete love, heeding the missed calls. Comb your hair, my Azita. Check your lips, never let it dry. Grin like an enchantress.”
A piece of help adumbrated to spell about the needs of frames to fix it around the repeated desires. Azita ran outside to see the cloud riders who knew about her high heels. The nudity of sky laughed at her and some birds. In her basement, collected men’s kisses flying in a cage. Sometime she let them outside to fly inside her doorless room. Her body was departed with different selections. Ambiguous deconstruction methods are handling by obstinate conformist. Imitating inspiration needs to owe. She wasn’t hurry to finish up the story, not searching for end, felicitous or nausea, but her height of her high heels is in the pauses where there are no lines and voices. The possibilities are sealed, depths are accounted, predefined trusts are simplified, muring thoughts, twisted neologisms. She realized that some doubts are drained and the pauses are started to grow up and the propositions are chatoyant.
Azita’s high heels is not fitting in her growing legs. Hairs on her legs is the most seducing part for all the men in that room.
“where did you meet the high heels seller?”
“I made him to do one for me. I tied his hands above his head, gagged his mouth by rubber balls, dipped his naked image in a bathtub filled up with olive oil. He accepted to do one for me.”
“One for me, one for me. Would you care to buy one for me?”
“His measurement is only for me”
“Shoe stitcher died in my hands last middle of the year. Death reasons are befogged.”
The scared fille left the place with her long hair boy friend.
Refining the edges of call for the evening bird shadows.
fRaGrancE of a sKeleToN sMilE
The whole solid shines in a square to stitch the greatness of greatest forms to accumulate the suspected information from the suspended corners. The greatest gilt greetings were coated in royal paint to scare the scar of distinctive classes. The compassing the trails to get the acknowledgment of superior chances that valued by many stir corrections. Hundred million fluctuating choices had the chances to draw a circle from end to end to terminate the bacillus and dabblers. The terms of concrete methods and foul methods of age systems may vary to change the time, sometime at the charm time. The fabulous fabricated red carpet gestating to allow the steps of fresh abiding episodes without steel hand’s rough-cut formats. Dazzling periods were concluded to satisfy the majestic entertainment and carried reasons having the mutual participation of agreements. The standard music is in different chords and paces that are modified by a new information that cleverly melting inside the unchanged sound. The waiting process progressing in a straight line in order to find a right tunes and turns. Its a crystal, another side is a blur image, it is converting into a tiddly touch of a fresh format. Classes are changing and it will not continue in the written pages anymore. Even numbers have become so odd to continue in the land of null numbers. Somewhere in the time, a considerable shadow play will be debuted by athirst intransigent abstracter. The countable contributions are amused to get more from the next of second grade. As well, right time to tune the fast reasons without bromides. Over again the ignored missives are not ordered to submit the lucid directions to the subscripts. Fascinating fleshes, charming charisma, magnetic manifesto, pragmatic political lines have stricken by the identity of self portrait. The unploughed branches will ramify once in a while, not to form another square. Antiquity records been slowly crushed by the termite teeth without any warning. Defined ostentatious versions were trying to get out from the lines to become an inflammable fogies. Smelt the time to code the symptoms of arrivederci to the unseen rare significance without comfy conversations.
dEtrItuS
Dear Camille Claudel, It easy to enter inside the city when I have painted last lost midnight without any midnight dogs interruption after watching your statues in me. Heard that you had flooded up your whole life in tears that no one can ever estimate in their middling senses. Death works are continued by your smooth fingers in a heavy amount of dope challenge. You welcomed the ferocious pain through a chisel like the words are submerged while you hollered at this world. Lonely you laughed like a devil in a room instead of crying, your eyes, your hands are your eyes, your fingers are your senses, it found the alive people inside the white stones. When he said to you, “You and I are freaks of nature. We’re the same breed”, then you replied to him, “You’re dreaming, Rodin. An idyllic romance in a castle…we’re two ghosts in a wasteland”. You are right, we all are ghosts, nude ghosts, our ugly finger nails are peeling each others skin, eating the eyeballs, biting the neck with our sharp teeth, chopping our members. Your sweating hands might be very tasty, I wish I could have crush it by my brown teeth. Can you come out from the coffin? Can you sculpt me by your male hands? What was in your mind when you are working “The Implorer”? Touch my body, caress my ego, slap me as much as possible, calculate my details, spit inside my mouth, lick my eyes, bit my chest, punch my stomach, pull my hair so wild, rip my organ if you dislike the male sadist inside me, then change the shape of me up to your imagination to kill the cruel orgasm without any fellow feeling. Some missing pieces are the only witness for your story which was uprooted from this earth. Someone is walking with your shadows that you left behind your death, death of stones, show me the pieces of your porkies. Following your shadows in a candle light to advice you in me to learn the art of ignorance. Dear death, after finishing the statues, my foot steps will come towards you to get the salt kisses from you. Allow me in that time, trust me, there is no space in between anyone. Don’t feel guilty to ignore me in the time of dark. Camille, are you still crying for yours sculptures or for your lost love? You have already killed your nights to get a dreamless sleep. Laughing at you sometimes to hit you with my cunning tone to dissolve you in my strange disgusting land. You are a poison ivy to yourself, slowly that poison burning the skin of my words, they are mixed up with past and present calculations to put an end without an end.
cAbiriA and sOmE
Every night she open the box and tell her day to day stories to it through her eyes. There she can see her past without any background music, she lost in royal people’s bed scene. Cabiria’s box is a small world contains many animal’s secrets to clear the pain of hide and seek game is not easy for her to continue the same game again and again to pass the value of time and her career. She worked in a fine stage to find her lover’s head with brain to work to earn lots of roman gold and to buy a castle full of horses to ride at early morning mist to find her another lover to build another castle with horses. Her vision is very clear without any leader’s secret society to control all the misogynist and to welcome misogamist to create a small part of garden in her small room which is decorated by lipstick colors. Her clear thoughts are shaded by dark colors that are mixed up with special words which are imported from secret society to write a fat book that nobody can read and understand the honest meaning of ghost world. Many times Cabiria liked to walk like a naturist in the center of city along with the insane people who cannot understand the beauty of body and its safer world to continue the happiness of pain. Letters that she got from her ex-lovers’ and ex-husbands’ are not yet burnt by her reasons to fly away from them to protect herself from their reasons which has strong smell of eccentricity. She is so happy to continue with her great cerebral moves without any checkmate from the dark faced knights and bishops and rooks and pawns and kings and queens. Her kisses are not easy to understand with normal sound of affections that are rotten inside the old story talking about a stupid princess looking for her moronic prince. She is a soldier living with another he and she to walk on the line without moonlight to paint another version of conspiracy theory without anonymous affairs and filthy tricks not to get inside the den of vampire and its friends. Cabiria wake up early in the morning before the sunrises its smile without anyone’s presence to stay away from the noise of smartness and epics. She started to collect the dew drops from the trees and plants to build her heaven without any volcanoes and wolves to see her reflection in that drops for a last time along with the claps of artists from her hidden world. Someone playing guitar for her to show the beautiful and acceptable modern chords with her favorite strumming are still echoing in forever to show nothing but nothingness. Like a city train crowd, proper words are itching her body in extreme lusty intention to make profit for eternal satisfaction that was advised by a torn trouser boy who was trained by designed foreheads. Collecting the pieces of some untold stories to write it in a written page without parallel orders to correct the slips with or without meanings.
O bRotheR, wheRe iS thAt beAr?
“It’s so boring, tell me another story”
“There is a big forest”
“Are we walking?”
“You are driving a jeep”
“I will drive”
“No, I will”
“He will, because he is your elder, your will hold a big gun”
“Yay, I got gun, whats the color of the gun, papa?”
“Hmm…black”
“Dok dok dok”
“Ok, listen. You drive the jeep so fast”
“drum drum druuuuuuuuuum…I am the fastest driver in the world”
“yes, yes you are. Suddenly the jeep stops in the middle of the forest without petrol. Now don’t know what to do! A terror sound coming from somewhere in the forest”
“Is it tiger?”
“No, you are wrong. It might be a lion”
“You both were wrong. Its a bear”
“Bear!”
“Yes, Bear can smell humans”
“But, I don’t like bear”
“Me too”
“It doesn’t matter what you like, but there is a bear in that forest. You guys are very bravo. So, don’t get panic”
“I am not”
“Me too”
“No, you are younger than me, you should be afraid, am i right papa?”
“No, he is also a brave boy. All are brave people. Listen the story, the bear is almost reached near your place. what will you do?”
“I will run so fast, he can’t run, he is so fat”
“You don’t talk like that on your elder brother, got it?”
“Hmm”
“You both were decided to climb on a tree near by”
“But I don’t know to climb!”
“If you believe something, you can do it. You are the first who climb on the tree, then your brother. You reached the top of the tree, but your brother stays still there in the bottom. He couldn’t climb with his big gun”
“I will shoot that bear”
“No, if you shoot, other bears would wake up”
“Hmm, then what should I do?”
“You lay on the floor like a dead person. Bear won’t eat dead bodies.”
“What can I do if the bear change its mind to eat a dead body?”
“Animals can’t change their mind. So you don’t be afraid, Ok?”
“Hmm”
“That bear came near by you, smelt your face, it licks your nose, your cheek. You are still controlling your breathe very confidently to escape from that animal. In the same time, he is watching you from the tree and slowly coming down from the tree to grab the gun. But, the bear left the place very soon.”
“Then”
“Both were walked back to home”
“Thats it?!”
“Oh nooooo. I want that bear, I want big teddy bear”
My younger brother threw the small teddy bear and he started to cry.
bLuE-blOOded
It was a blue tint, I haven’t seen such a mesmerizing blue tint before. It was a smile, like a smile of a dead person. Well settled, very connected, strongly expressed, in a due, that entered into an animated world. It was a signal, a sign, a symbol, a melting precaution forever to continue with any kind of kindly hearts. Dandiest fresh water along with blue thrown a smile on the light. It was a gorgeous drop of moment that cannot be recollected by any wizard or a witch or a bitch. The chain of love started to unchain the words without hurting the indirect speech of moving minds. The hot blood has nails to tear its own body to pour the lava through the blind eyes. The blue enthusiasm submerged directly into the correction of washed methods to compose another requiem mass. Intoxicating aroma from the mouth of a flower still feeding acid to those moronic bees in the time of blue evening.bees are into endless sleep and the flowers are into scattering the eggs on the blue field. Eggs are white, juicy, smelly, colloidal, viscous, tasty, hasty, pasty, nasty, chesty, sticky and devilish sexy. Some broken eggs are filtered to realize the siphon off , it flows through my chest, my nipples are debating with the egg yolk, lusty smell inside the eyes of egg whites slowly smooched the belly button, pubic hair started to fall in an unknown expression, the tip of the penis became pink and started to touch the divine parts of sky. Egg rain, each drops sliced the body parts without any poignancy. Nailless fingers scratched the 
shell of unbroken eggs. The blue eyes were entered into the new meanings that are not standing against any fire walls. Gracious blue covered the spectrum of light and twisted it over the blue field. My blue foot ran like an ant, the eggs are broken under my blue foot and its blue hands strongly uprooted my eyes. Fleshy butt part on the blue field were eaten by the blue teeth of rats. Ill-scented shit of rats are moving as blue clouds to find a black hole to welcome the death. The death has two penis to squirt the semen on the face of fate and meaning. Its smelly, very smelly like an egg yolk. Unknown code of fate not yet translated into any words or images. The changing meanings all are manipulated only to control the meaning of pause. Without any hesitation my blue tongue swallowed the poisonous saliva. Oh! challenging the magpies are the painful moments in that blue field. Lucky with my blind eyes that showed me the ecstasy in each and every death minutes. A song composed somewhere by someone who was nowhere in my world that heard by my rented hearts.
