Thursday, November 19, 2009

Journey to the Mountains

Five great stones splitted a lone river. Right in the middle lied the biggest, yet the generous one. As I had walked for nine-hundreds steps under the knee-height water surface, I became slower than a band of snails. There, on the great stone I leaned. With all hopeless staring at high, high skyscrapers. My sweats ran dry like flood in rainy season, my throat was left nothing but the drought. Yet, the steps would have been twenty-fold of I had crawled from the river bank. To wipe the wet forehead, to scrap the dirts on shoulders unifying with the temper of my nerves. As water splash kept breaking the stone, it could had had been hotter than that afternoon’s sun.
The blue sky turned to gray a while, then completely dark since I had not afforded to count my own fingers. There was a black out over the generous stone. Completely blacked out I was under the sky for a moment or two.
Then came across the all-white shadows on an alien prairie. No houses even huts ahead every direction. No hands but the sound of a flying crow like a rolling thunder. And suddenly … furry, black crow truly smashed my back into deadly pains. That was a big, big crow I had ever seen the whole life. It was nothing I could guess whether he or she. The eyes were as black as the furs, and the tallons, and even the tongue…yes I saw the tongue. I was scared in deep hopelessness.
“What are you doing on my back? Hitting me from behind, hhuhh?” Annoyed by the crow’s disguising visit I shouted like a mad one. “Hitting me from behind? Stabbing when I’m blinded?” And whatsoever mocking and cynicism like I had used to see on my daily days.
As the crow was no more than having no answer machine but koaa…koaa..koaa…words I did not understand at all. “Killing me like a cowards, hhhuhh?” My voice even was louder than ever.
“Koaa…koaa…koaa…” The crow said nothing more than “koaa…koaa..koaa…” Then after three times of turning back it flied over my head and went the distance. My back pain got lighter, I got better than minutes ago when the black, giant tallons seemed to bruise my very skins to bones.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Power - less

Empty road into the wood

Stony walks nearby the banks

Crossing all bushes when sun so young

At the gravel after the rain

Footsteps were hard to find the shelter

Closer about to water stream

This slippery soils prevented the stand

Verify too harsh, verily hard

When light was blocked to blackened eye

It was long way to go through it

It was very wild and mean

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Nothing more

When leaves start falling
there's nothing to do but to hope
that they fertilize your soils
one day

On which crops be alive
for your future needs

Days come and go and
you're a cameo of universe blockbusters
you're nothing more