Projekt 8.25 (subset #93: Walking Through Foggy Bottom… Let Me Heal)

Condoleezza Rice followed me

as I walked through Foggy Bottom.

Smart woman,

she knows something.

…

I am a sleeping giant…

Let me lie.

Let me dream.

When I’m ready,

I will rise.

Ipso facto,

leave me be…

let me deal,

let me rest,

let me heal.

…

 

Projekt 8.25 (subset #72: Grandview USA)

I had, I am sure,

an abnormal childhood and adolescence.

A product of who, when and where I am from,

external manipulations,

my sensitivities.

…

I saw the movie Grandview USA in 1993.

It was new to me.

I felt like I belonged, somehow.

From the opening credits, homely, inviting,

I felt at ease.

I wanted to be the girl in the bikini

with the Frisbee

(hard to believe?),

happy,

free.

I hoped things hadn’t changed too much

in the almost decade

since the film had been made.

Indeed.

I wanted a home.

I could dream.

 

…

 

Projekt 8.25 (subset #68: Leni Riefenstahl meets Rosa Luxemburg, in my dreams…)

Define dream.

Define reality.

…

Somewhere in New York City,

on a TV set,

in a room,

a state of mind,

beyond Brighton Beach…

Somewhere,

sometime,

a grandiose statement was made

about destiny shaking hands with history.

… Really?

Like, wow!

And, how…

And, this production was brought to you by the ghosts of Leni Riefenstahl and Rosa Luxemburg.

…

Read, kids, read, believe and intercede!

…

 

The Waterfall. … How beautiful, the cascade. How dangerous, the torrent. … She soaks in the bathtub, perhaps she masturbates. … Anna Chapman, memories, live and die.

Lies slip from her lips

like water down a mountainside.

Slick rock face.

Summer thunder storm.

Slippery slope

to doom.

 

…

9. Jul. 2006, Română

You look at the photo and wince,

it’s you, in another life,

ten years since,

you look so young and happy,

you can’t remember it,

water under the bridge, so much shit.

…

So long,

come and gone.

Betrayal, hard luck,

heartache.

It’s futile,

but you wonder,

which is the real you,

then or now?

 

…

Turku Athletics.

Turku Athletics.

Beautiful warm Summer night.

Navels on display.

 

…

Complications In A Cold Climate. (AKA: The sound of dirt on a lowered coffin…)

Respite in cocoon,

sanctuary, a darkened room,

handful of dirt falls.

…

 

Mustering a plan,

a way forward, improvement,

strength, perchance to grow.

…

 

Blink, my eyes open,

and I can’t see anything,

dirt falls, blinds my all.

…

 

Possibilities,

decimated by army,

humans and catches.

…

 

Toilet flushes hope,

lost in pipework and sewers,

Oh, the great things lost!

 

…

The Way Forward?

She lay down,

on the floor,

in a darkened room.

She asked herself, repeatedly:

“What is the way forward?”

Racing mind, confused and throbbing head,

by the tenth repetition

she changed the question to:

“Is there a way forward?”

…

She moved her left hand downwards.

Imagining herself,

something else,

she fell asleep,

boundless.

 

…

Beauty, In The Eye Of The Beholder.

The beauty pageant,

Ugly in so many ways,

Has its devotees.

 

…

Beep! … It’s distracting you from your destiny. Resist! Hold your breath, get out of the car and walk away from the traffic jam. … Cover your mouth and nose, avoid the fumes … You only need to know *so much* news.

Distraction is death,

a soul-seeping perfidy,

online, adverts, “friends”…

…