Abacus

[anirbas]

oh, to be an abacus...

just one consecutive number
after another, strung upon a highwire
of thought let loose...

some one else's invention...
not my own...abacus...

thoughts let loose like numbers...
beads on a highwire...
blank without faces...
without ryhme or reason...
no reference to season...

no agenda save simultaneous
baptism in the truth,
and the putrification,
the breaking down of illusions...
one right after another...

numbers, do not lie...
words, do...words do...
words create worlds
that do not exist...
words bespeak of feelings,
later rescinded...

words paint pictures,
that are not there...
even in the mind of the painter...

numbers, paint nothing...
just added together,
they tell the truth...

~Sabrina.

[anirbas]

~this I have learned...

words do not fill...words cannot heal...
words can only be spoken or written...
and just because a word, is spoken
or written, does not mean,
it is true, or should
be felt, at all...
as words mean nothing,
are worth nothing,
more than the price
of the vellum,
they are scrawled upon...
words do not fill...
words cannot heal...
this i have learned...
as i journey through life...
on an eternal sabbatical...
everytime i think i know it all...
i find life wishes me to learn something new...
avaricious, capricious witch in stockings, life is...
ah, but isn't life, a colorful wench? and ain't life
grand when it is? and ain't life damned, when it isn't?

[wistfuldragon]

glorious...

[anirbas]

thanks millions, Mishfweend!

[anirbas]

~Odd and End Untitled Pieces



To be the stone left unturned
To be the promise never kept
To be the one left unmasked
That is my aspiration
Nothingness is my assignation


----------------------*


To be the fire left unburned
To be the butter left unchurned
To be the race never ran, never lost or won
To be the thirst left unquenched
To be the player forever benched
To be unsullied, to be the untouched
For to be anonymous is synonymous with peace

----------------------------*

Point of reference
is of no consequence
All have been
where no one else
has gone before

---------------------------------------------*

To be the cherry yet unstoned...
To be able to stand forgiven and atoned...
To be the voice yet to say a thing...
To be the phone that didn't ring...
To be unborn...Uncut...Unshorn
as yet, by this life of strife...
To be, to simply breathe,
is no longer enough...
I want to start over...
This time I want to get it right...
I want to do more than breathe...
To exist only to survive...
This time I want to get it right...
I want to live...To live...To love...
Not just to live to survive, until I don't...

--------------------------------------*

masks...odd but handy little items...
no matter how many we strip off in some realms...
there is always at least one place, we should always
wear them...for masks are not masks, at all...
they are body armor, shields and swords...
heavy to carry but useful objects, none the less...
the trick, is to learn, where you do and don't
have to wear them...masks...and when one must,
being careful to keep one's masks adjusted...
sometimes, we must wear layers of masks,
just to survive a day, without another wound,
laid across our pysche, our hearts, our minds...
masks...odd but handy little items...

[anirbas]

to be a stone...
without multi-layering...
mono-layered...all core...
and to the core hard...
to be a stone...
which even when broken,
each piece retains the hardness
of the orginal core value...
to be a stone...
would be a blessing...
next lifetime, perhaps...

------------------------------------------------*

what are you doing?
trying to wake the dead?
don't you know,
they've already
laid the silver coins,
over my closed lids?

gravediggers! what are you doing,
trying to wake the dead?

i hear you banging on the coffin.
no treasure left in here, to find...

just a mindblown and spirit abandoned corpse...

the husk of a person, that in the end, helped no one.

gravediggers! what are you thinking, trying
to resurrect and wake the walking dead?

it's to late, now...I listened...
I heard...the dead has arisen
and is walking amongst you,
once again...

[anirbas]

and that's the way it will always be...
nothing is ever always to be...
even when one stands in the same place...
one changes...hair falls from follicles...
skin detritus flakes and floats away from us...
perspiration rolls, then drips to the ground...
all around, change...and the sound of change...
the sound of change...falling...flaking and floating...
drip, drip, dripping...the sound of change...
even when one stands in the same place...

-----------------------------------------*

always obstacles to climb...
always circumstances,
one must learn
to overcome...

the more things change,
the more they remain the same,
as the old addage goes...

life is filled to overflowing
with first one problem, than another...
one can let their problems,
make them better or bitter...

problems, aren't curses...
they are character builders...

no way around them...
but, to face them...
walk through the fire of them...

blaming others, for our actions,
only brings dishonor to the blamer...

change isn't bad...for if one doesn't change,
as needed, as necessary...one will always,
wind up where they were headed in the first place...

as humans, we are triple beings...
we are body, soul and heart...
soul is the embodiment,
of the mind, will and emotions...
heart is the embodiment of spirit...

as humans, we must learn to own all the beings
within us...all the pain within us...we must own it...
in order to pass through it...to cleanse it...

janitor in a drum for humans, would be a big help...

------------------------------------------------*

it would be nice,
to mark this mess,
up to astrology.

planetary aspects,
gone awry and haywire
with operatic, tense drama.

and i, left standing alone...
in the aftermath of a cosmic storm...

but this glass house of dreams,
lit like a candle from within,
for all the world to see,
in it's volupturian beauty;
was equally transparent
at hiding the grateful
dead ugliness within...

ah, how pretty a pair of dancers seems...
when one is on the outside of that particular
circle looking in...ah, how funny to watch
the same pair, trip and fall...trip
and fall, til they fall no more...

they just lay there, flattened by one another,
in the floor, gasping like fish out of water for air.

anything as effortless...will be equally uneffortless,
when it just isn't...anything, effortless, will be
equally uneffortless, when it just isn't...

life, life can take many things away from you...
astrology calls it a cosmic storm...a retrogradiation
of planetary alignment...a bad moon kind of day...

life, life can take many things away from you...
the wind can pick up, blow your good hair day,
straight to the opposite extreme...

life, life can take many things away from you...
children, dogs and cats, friends, lovers, parents...

life, life can take many things away from you...

but, it can't take the love in your heart...
or the steel in your backbone...

even though life can break you...
making you think it has...

[anirbas]

mare's nest of deep thought...
thought chases thought...

chases thought...chases
thought...chases thought...

deep into the womb of the night...

the moon traverses the star shot
and scattered heavens...
as I traverse,
the shadow haunted,
evening darkened lawn...

unhinged...unhitched...becursed...
to walk the night, wondering...

WHY? WHY? WHY, GOD, WHY?

even as I ask these questions,
of the star riddled and moon ridden heavens,
I expect no answer...I expect no answer...
it's best that way...best if I don't
know why, perhaps...anymore
unvarnished truths,
might kill me...

mare's nest of deep thought...
thought chases thought...

chases thought...chases
thought...chases thought...

deep into the womb of the night...

[anirbas]

best to flee...run...hide...
best...best that way...
don't you see?

it would seem...

I am the ides of March...
I am the dreaded bump heard in the night...
I am anthema...I am your worst nightmare...

it would seem...

the more things change,
the more they remain the same...
even when there is no one to blame...

best to flee...run...hide...
best...best that way...
don't you see?

it would seem...

-------------*

there isn't an anti-dote...
search the world...
search the Nile...
you'll find...
there isn't an anti-dote...
your veins will always burn...
just like mine...just like mine...

--------------*

excuse me...
I said excuse me, please...
if you please, that is, kind sir...

I know you said, you've vacated the premises...
but, could you please, vacate my mind, as well?

you seem to have left a pair
of dragon's fangs or ice pick tipped tenterhooks,
embedded in this already tired and trashed cranium...

and while you're at it...
take that pesky essence of yours,
wafting around and through my spirit,
like the wind up my nose.

excuse me...
I said excuse me, please...
if you please, that is, kind sir...

---------------*

~i removed my spells...now, you remove yours...~

there are no mirrors...
only reflections of reflections...

-------------------------*

how scintillatiningly sharp
those words like a wave bladed dagger...
piercing flesh, bone and organs...
slicing through pulsating lung
and throbbing heart...
how sharp those
words...how
sharp...
cutting
through
my spirit
like a hot knife
through cool butter sharp...
ironic...odd or not to find...
bitter colored, sulphur hued gemstones,
embedded like the found nuggets of information,
they were meant to be...for the seeker to find...

to find one was a curiosity...nothing more nor less,
than a freak show under the big top...not love...
not and never love...no...no...not and never...


~*~

~when I pass near...

angels drop harps,
demons dance and prance,
when I pass near...

flowers close soft petals;
streams stop flowing;
earth pauses, holds its magnanimous breath...
shhhh...quiet you can hear it say...
a nightmare is loose in the universe, amongst us...
and she's not singing nonsensical lullabies, anymore.
not as she did in her bygone, halcyonic daydreams...
daydreams soft sell illusions...nightmares, seldom
sell one short in that respect...they just dish
the truth out, from the bottom up to the top...
and when your cranium can stand no more...
you wake up...you wake up...you wake up...
but, you don't stop crying for awhile...
and there's a bruise on your chest,
like somebody heartpunched you...
oh, but, that's what happens in daydreams...

angels drop harps,
demons dance and prance,
when I pass near...

~*~

break the mirror, he said...
break the mirror...which begs the question,
how does one break a mirror, embedded with one's
own reflection? one smashes one's puny fist
into the brittle fake hard surface of it...
and screams...there are no mirror images...
only reflections of reflections of reflections...
so, therefore, how many mirrors, must one break
before one breaks, the blood and gout clenched fist?

none...the reflections are in one's mind...

~*~

i should have known you were a snake oil salesman...
the minute you said to me...you, my darling,
are worthy of me...you're my mirror image...

and like a charmed snake, i danced
right out of the basket, and off into the skies...
staring into a looking glass and hearing lies...

i have no mirror image...i already knew that...
i am my own mirror image...just as we all are...

but, for what at some point in history,
will amount to a scintilla of time,
for me...you had me convinced...

you had me believing...
there was such a thing,
as soulmates...

then angels dropped their harps...
and demons began to dance and prance...
and skeletons rattled their chains,
begging to be let loose from closets...

bringing me back to my senses, to remember...
there are no reflections...i am my mirror image...
there is none other like me...
just as there is none other like you...

so, the lesson learned in retrospect...
i wasn't wrong...there is no love unconditional,
betwixt and between a man and a woman...
only lust and contracts...and perhaps,
curiosity...just curiousity...

iron strikes iron...
we are all God's tools...
each relationship a lesson in the making...
now, if i were to believe that assertation...
what is it, you were supposed to teach me, teacher?
that i was right, all along? i was right all along...

~*~

oh, to be three women...
oh, to be a wife...
oh, to be a concubine...
oh, to be a highly sought
and borrowed and paid for wh*re...
oh, that's right, i already am...
nothing more...much less a lover...
just something to disassociate oneself from...
throw it into the dustbin for the rodent to dine on...

~*~

he told her, to break the mirror...
break the mirror...mirror breaking, in session...

~*~
he told her, to break the mirror...
break the mirror...mirror breaking, in session...

as she struggles to catch up to his level
of disassociation, from the near distant past...

his legs are longer than hers...he's outdistanced
her, in that respect...as usual, she's dancing
and running as fast as she can to keep up with him...

for absolutely no reason...nothing more,
than a snake or a puppy chasing
it's own tail...

mirror breaking in session...
break the mirror...break the mirror...

but, how does one break a mirror,
that never bore one's reflection,
in the first place? how does
one improvise this transition?

one doesn't improvise it...
one lives it...one hellacious second,
one hellacious minute, one hellacious day,
one hellacious night at a time...

one feels the pain...doesn't fear it...
that's how one walks through a problem,
not around it...over and over and over...
in circles, again and again...

one feels the pain...walks through it...
stomps through it...screams through it...

and one listens to a major amount
of Evanescence and Metallica...

and one day, one awakens...
and finds the pain, has begun to lessen...
not much, but a little...one can breathe, again...
not much, but a little...and one starts listening,
to Alanis Morrisette's Jagged Little Pill...
and starts to heal...first step...

loads of metaphorical gauze...
pack the wound...stop the hemorrhaging,
without pause...thread the needle,
with the finest of silk...start
pulling and stitching the wound,
that won't stop screaming, shut...
until the last stitch is taken...
and the screaming can't be heard, anymore...
just a faint echo of it...bouncing off the walls
of one's tortured mind...from time to time...

---------------------------------*

[anirbas]

do you know who am I?
as you insinuate I wallow and whine?
I'm the face of the woman you could have been...
the blank faced one between the sheets...
that could have been anyone of us...

except it wasn't...
it was me...
in hindsight...
I wish it had of been
someone else...even you...

then you could be in this crappy place, inside yourself, staring outwards, looking inwards...
having been dumped on your gluteous maximus,
with your skirt thrown over your face,
metaphorically, in front of the whole world...
yes, I wallow...yes, I whine...

yes, my name is Nightmare...
and I'm the dog under the porch,
scratching it's fleas...it could be worse...

you could have been the blank face,
between the sheets, if not for me...

frankly, anyone of us, would have done...
it was all a knee jerk reaction,
to feed the arrogancy of a liquidic ego...
any pretty face, could have taken my place...
it was nothing special...just a thing...

it was all a liquor fueled, ego driven sham...
how many rats can the pied piper get to follow it?
how many fish can the trotline man catch
throwing out baited lines, right and left?
before it takes aim on the preconceived
in it's head, royal rodent? and shows
all the cowboys, how to ride a wild mare,
into the ground...til she's foaming and frothing...
not much left to be done for her...except the humane
thing...somebody, please...go get a gun...

and me? I got caught in the crossfire,
of a man, hitting rock bottom...
you're lucky you didn't...you're blessed...

look at me...i'm a walking nightmare,
trying to salvage any shred of dignity,
honor and respect, I have left...

not so you will think better of me...
so, I can look me in the face again...
and see me as something more...
than just a blank pretty face,
between the blank pages,
of blank white sheets...
not something more...
just nothing more...

do you really think,
I risked my life,
to be just another
blank, pretty face,
between the sheets?

a curiousity? a freakshow?

do you know who I am?
I'm the blank faced woman between the sheets...
the one you could have been...and I wish you were...

you have no idea, how much, I wish you were...

[anirbas]

~Dared to Dream...

No comeuppance or recompense...
Life just steps in, reality surfaces...
Circumstances circumvent, intervene...
Every story, individual or collectively entwined,
gets rewritten...Gets rewritten...

Some, on a daily basis...
As in the case of refugees and runaways...

So, why should any one story be different?

They had what they had...A beautiful illusion
spun by a beautiful man...
Swallowed beautifully hook,
line and sinker by a woman...

A modern day fairytale...
They both dared to dream...
Wished to believe in the credibility of...
No matter the tilt of the playing field,
or not, thereof...Or who knew what for sure, when...

One thing's for sure, it was beautiful,
while it lasted...It left them both drained
and dusted, aggravated and frustrated...

And in the end, the story was rewritten...
Life stepped in...Made a hole and made it wide...
In the fairytale...The dream...The both of them...
Circumstances circumvented, intervened...

And what was written, then...
Now, it just isn't...

And only the One,
that crossed and tangled;
then equally uncrossed and untangled,
their paths, knows for sure,
what shall become of either of them...
Individually, or collectively, as a couple...

Perhaps, it was all just happenchance...

Only one thing is for sure...
Once upon a time, they dared to dream...

~*~

~Once Upon a Time~

She listened...She believed once...
She took that leap of faith...
Faith built upon a house of cards, or not...
Once upon a time...
Time and time, again...
And then some...
She took that leap of faith...

Then, by his own thoughts,
and from his own lips,
thrown like a tossed
like a B-movie script across
a knick knack crowded room...

By his own hand, he brought down,
this house of cards, this glass house...
Even if, as protection, in disguise...
Or is that just another artful dodge?

Since the confession,
in it's entirety,
once more professed
as the unvarnished truth-
she no longer knows,
what is, or was
real and unreal,
about them...

She only know,
She wishes she could forget him...
And she's thankful that she can't...

Means it all meant something to her...
Whether or not, it was all just grist
for the fantasy mill...
A liquidically inclined individual,
ginning and spinning
daydreams, out of his head
on gin and juice...
Or whatever,
his weapon
of choice,
that day,
or the next...

She only knows...
Now, she rants and raves,
not out of bitterness...

But, with rage...
That what once was...
Poignantly beautiful,
as it was, in every moment,
we shared, no matter
the circumstances...
Just wasn't...
Except in her mind...

Once upon a time...

[anirbas]

~*~~*~

It's unreal to me...
The reel you unspooled
in front of me, wasn't real...
So lifelike in appearance
and effortless directioning...
I didn't catch it was like a movie...
Your own version of Moulin Rouge...
Except my character, didn't die,
spitting up bloody sputum...
Your character, walked off alone,
like a throw away poem,
into the Sierra Mist,
all alone...


~*~

I only know...
I long for your touch...
No matter the distance between us,
or the conveyance, of said touch, as such...
Nor your state of mind, at the time...
Even now, when all the pieces,
were and are, finally laid
upon the gaming table...
I still long for your caress...
Real or imagined...
Now, either I'm sick...
A glutton for punishment...

Or I fell in love...

Just my luck,
it was and is,
with the Dream Man...

That's what I have to deal with...
Was the man I fell in love with...
Ever there at all? Or was he always
the Dream Man, not just metaphorically,
but literally...And the sad thing...
The dream man, probably doesn't know, either...

~*~

Chances are, he doesn't remember
a word he said to her...Or at least not half
of it...If not for the writing on the wall...

Perhaps, didn't awaken, til he landed
in a distant land, and was finally sober,
for at least a week...That's one fact,
that is real, in the fairytale...

And remembers nothing but that week...
And how she looked at him...
Perhaps, it was then, he realized,
she really was in love...
And he knew it was time,
to tell the entire truth...

Just not then...Not til later...

Because, the truth is, he couldn't...
It was to much fun being openly
and unabashedly adored,
for probably,
the first time,
in a very long time,
if ever for him...

Well, there's one dream
she managed to fulfill for him...
And that's good to know...
It's something,
she can hold onto...
No matter what it all was,
or wasn't, in the grand design
or scheme of things...

It was all real for and to her...
And in the end, that was all,
that really mattered.

~*~


Oh, to be the stone, unturned...
The butter, left unchurned...
To be the heart left
cold and untouched...
But not unbroken,
until it was...

~*~


Just a few romantic tales from the dark side...
The fable side of storytelling...
Where true or not...
There's always,
a moral,
or a lesson,
to be learned...

*t-he*

[anirbas]

~Dark Twists

Dark twists of thoughts,
coalesce, reanimate;
clotted and matted
with the gore
of residual
pain;
to drift
and waft,
through
the mind.
To and fro...
Willy nilly...
Hither and thither...
Where they meander,
the soul does follow,
to be dragged into a whirlpool,
of white noise, shadow dances, and half-truths.
The worst thing one can do, is to lie to oneself.
The next worst thing one can do,
is to willingly stab oneself,
in the eye, with scissors,
while running down a hall...
What was the heart thinking,
when the body tripped over
itself and began to fall?
Better to be blind,
than to realize,
the unvarnished truth?
That in some worlds,
there is no place for you?
Except, in the divine dreams
or sleep niggling nightmares
of another's twisted slumber...
Mind meanders, unraveling
into dark twists of knotted threads,
spreading outwards from the head,
like an unseen corona
of thistles and thorns.
As dark twists of thoughts,
coalesce, reanimate...
Clotted and matted
with the gore
of learned
reasoning,
and the
feeling
of I've
been here,
before...

~*~

~Free Token

There is no promise
in any future...
Other than that,
the future,
shall surely come...
Right as rain,
fresh and new,
with it's own
unique brand
of wrenching pain;
pierced and punctured
with salient moments
of blinding lightness.

No pain, no gain.
No pain, no gain.
No pain, no gain.

Point received
and well taken.

Here's your free token...
To proceed to the Land of Hobokem.
The train ride is a nice one, til you get there.
The conductor is individually suave and fair.
But, when you reach the depot station...
There aren't any steps, you just get pushed
and shoved from a moving locomotive,
by an arrogant ticket taker,
to the unswerving hard ground
of reality in the Land of Hobokem...
A ticket taker, that looks oddly like the conductor.


There is no promise
in any future...
Other than that,
the future,
shall surely come...
Whether it's the one,
one envisioned or not...

~*~

~*"Get busy living, or get busy dying."*~
~line from Shawshank Redemption.

[anirbas]

~In My Place...

I saw you...Felt you
brush me off, with an effected
nonchalant yawn...But not to do
what you said...

At least, not right off
the bat...

And I am left to wonder,
given the circumstances,
what other crumbs of doubt,
are you hiding in and under,
this bed, for me to roll
and wallow in with abandon,
if I so allow myself, to do so?

Remember, I didn't give me this paranoia,
where you are concerned...You served,
it up to me, blue plate special style,
one overdone slam at a time...

Who are you, today? Are you her, him,
or the other one? Which mask, did you adorn,
this morning, when you rolled out of bed?
I must profess, I can no longer tell...
As my intuitions, where you are concerned,
my friend, have been shot
to hell and back, not once,
but time and time, again...

So, forgive me, as I submerge,
back into the shell, from whence I came.
Scuttle sideways, and disappear into the horizon,
of your near distant, peripheral vision;
where I should have stayed
in the first place;
hidden and safe,
in my own cave,
the buried temple,
that is me,
havened
and sheltered,
inside, where I belong...In my place...
Inside myself, in my own head, not yours...

And me, will I forgive you? Not and never...
Or perhaps on Hallowe'en. The appropriate holiday,
for treating tricksters with the sweet treat
of redemption for all the pranks
they've pulled, the past year...

[anirbas]

~Albatross

I realize, I didn't pay attention...
I didn't listen...I didn't heed the aurical
warning signs, banging like gongs, in my own head...
There was something more to this scenario,
than I could imagine, even with my so called,
seasoned experience in tow...

I get it... I finally do...
You were never the knight in blindness
inducing, shining light, white armor-
or at least not in this versional show
of an enchanted danse macabre.
You were the real guy, the every day joe,
dancing along in your black stained pewter armor,
of reality...The black knight...

It was me...Me, that galloped, unrealistically,
full tilt boogie into you...Thinking I could
save your day for you...Be the angel, guiding you
from over your shoulder and dancing through
your soul...But, now I get it...

I see...I am the albatross, about your neck...
And as for saving you, only you can do that...
But, you've got to want to first...
And the simple, unconditional love of another,
is never enough reason to do that...
You've got to love yourself, first...
So, go forth and prosper in doing just that...
Go forth and prosper in just being healed,
cured and whole, as you can be...For you...

For you...Not me, or anybody else...For you...

So, it's taken several days to sink in...
The part I've been playing...
White knights are notorious,
for being saliently stubborn, when on a mission...

Now, I'm listening...Now, I see...
Now, I get it...Now, my ears are getting
the message, loud and clear, with the blinders,
pulled free and clear...

You need space to just blessed be... Odd, or not...
I just realized this morning, so do I...

So, you, be free...And I'll be free...
You, be you...And I'll be me...
Like I've always been from the beginning...
The same forwards, as I am backwards, or sideways.

To paraphrase, you sweep your street,
and I'll sweep mine...Didn't get the meaning
of that, right off the bat...Now, I do...
It's sunken in...Sunken in...
And that's exactly, what I'm trying to do...

Who knows? Someday, if you get lucky,
for the second time...Those streets,
just might converge, again, at some point,
in time...But, it will be in the future...

Only time will tell, if all's well, that ends well.
And that's the plain, unvarnished truth...

Will we ever make it to easy street?
To dance like angels on the heads of pins?
Either, individually or collectively?
Either way, it would be a miracle
if we did; but then, in my estimation,
just breathing, is a miracle...
So, anything is possible...

Other than that, I don't know,
any better than you, my friend.
If we are capable of dancing
like angels on the heads of pins...

Only time will tell, and the living of the story,
as the story unfolds in the telling-if all's well,
that ends well...Everything else, is just a soft sale.

~*~
~Good to Know...

I realize, I didn't pay attention...
I didn't listen...I didn't heed the aurical
warning signs, banging like gongs, in my own head...
There was something more to this scenario,
than I could imagine, even with my so called,
seasoned experience in tow...

I sold myself down the swollen creek
of this fairytale...And there's got to be,
something said and owned in that fact...

I'll have to deal with that,
as I sweep my side of the street...

So, don't feel guilty...
I had my own part in this game of charades.

I'll have to deal with that,
as I sweep my side of the street...

Keeping my eyes downcast,
not staring in unabashed
tomfoolishness, beyond
my three feet of space.

Praying for the best,
not the worst for you.
As I go back to wrestling,
with the skeletons,
in my own broom closet...

That have been kidney punching
the hell out of me, while I was staring,
out of my secret window, across the street,
checking out the neighborhood,
my back turned, to their rattlesome blows;
my own sweeping, brought to a standstill,
by a landslide of emotions,
I never expected to ever feel,
just taking a glance,
peeking out at the world...

Much less hold sway with and deal...
That's a blessing...That's a gift
you gave me...You showed me...
I'm not the walking dead...
I can still feel...I can...
That's what I take from this,
that is real...That is a fact...
I can still feel...And that,
is good to know...Good to know...


~Sabrina.

[anirbas]

~Blind Movement

before I was named...
I was blind movement
in the womb...
flexing, stretching,
kicking at the walls,
I could feel but not see...
now that I'm named,
I'm still doing
the same thing...
kicking at walls,
I can feel but not see...

~Sabrina.

~*~

~Space Capsule

What does one do, with oneself,
after one faces the inimitable truth?
That one is, in all actuality, an impediment,
to another's much needed reclaimation,
of oneself? Nothing more than an obstacle,
a stumbling block laid haphazardly in the hard
won path of another's evolvement, healing
and curing process...If one has any honor,
one ounce, one shred of dignity left,
after a reality check moment, like that-
one removes oneself from the premises, per se...

But, what does one do, with oneself,
after one faces the inimitable truth?
Easy...Administer a heart punch,
to one's hysterical heart,
knock it out and put
it in a pine box...
Bury it in secret,
on a full moon night,
beneath a willow tree.
And one's limp soul,
lay it reverentially,
on a bier, light a fire there,
and push the entire blazing clean burn,
from the shore of oneself.

Then get very, very busy;
and keep a low profile,
waiting for the sun to shine,
again someday...Though it may take
awhile...That's okay...The mind
needs time, to stitch the gaping
wounds where the heart and soul,
used to be, before thrown out,
jettisoned with the rest of the trash
in the space capsule of one's individual head...

~Sabrina.

~*~

I am the glittering, char blackened crust,
surrounding my jaded heart,
like a shell of thin obsidian...
I am the greek fire, clean burning and raging,
inside my heart, with nowhere to go...
It's good for this dark twist,
to be back home, where I belong;
wrapped in the beloved nascent mantle
of the tried and true, darkness...
For retrogradation of another soul,
was never my intention...Even though,
now that I mention it...I'm no longer,
even sure what the original scope
of my mission was...I think
I just meant to say hello...

~Sabrina.

~*~

Odd lines of quotes, I've heard in passing,
that have forever stood as memorized, in my mind.

~*"...a rising tide lifts all boats..."*~

~*"...nobody can take something away,
you didn't give them, in the first place..."*~

[anirbas]

~Reprobaters of My Soul

Vultures...
They're everywhere...
The ones circling the ebonized skies,
in the darkness over my head I cannot see...
And those free ranging the inner confines
of my convoluted cranium...
Dark twists of vulturization...
Retrograding my spirit back to square
one of immaturization and emptiness...
Vultures...
The reprobaters of my soul...
Ready to land,
at any given time,
to pick the bones clean,
of what the world and I,
left behind of me...
Vultures...
They're everywhere...
The ones circling the ebonized skies,
in the darkness over my head I cannot see...
And those free ranging the inner confines
of my convoluted cranium...

~Sabrina.

[anirbas]

~Nothing But Words...

Transpiration rises
in dark twists of thoughts,
from the nascent void,
within in my head.
To effect condensation,
sheening and sweating,
the dome of my cranium.

I photosynthesize
my habitat's symbolic
provendurial nutrients.
Adapting in the process
to other's learned behavior.
While seeking to metamorphosize,
my own instinctive behavior,
beyond the larval stage of growth.

Often wondering, what is my new niche,
in this now? Predator? Prey? Carnivore?
Herbivore? Omnivore? Decomposer, perhaps?

Hibernating, in my cave, this ecosystem to stave
off the pollution of, I find myself in...
While the organismal population,
prays for my extinction, or the termination
of my squatter's rights in their chosen territory...

My cave is good enough for me...
Mimicing the children of the lotus-eaters,
in my own fashion...

Eating and eschewing nothing but words...

[anirbas]

~A Now Moment...

You caught me off guard, when you asked:
What do I want, anyway...
And suddenly, I had no idea,
what I wanted anymore...
I could have told you, before...
Now, I'm not so sure...
I drift, an offshore oil derrick,
bred in the natural lab of the womb,
born and raised, to weather the tsunamis
and the rogue waves, the ocean of life,
can throw at one, unannounced. Until it is...
Until it is...How sweet it is...The bitter quiet...
The calm before the storm, where tranquil islands
of the mind, if not found, are made...
Until they're unmade...Overturned,
as musty, unentrenched earth,
by a sharp, merciless spade.
What do I want, anyway?
I could have told, before...
But, that's historical.
A then moment,
as opposed to a now moment...

~Sabrina.

[anirbas]

~Cursing Outloud...

Curse this pain...Curse this drain...
Curse the past...Curse the fact,
it couldn't last...
Never had a Chinaman's chance,
in hell, in the first place...
Dash this pain...Dash this drain...
Dash the past...Dash the fact,
it wasn't meant to be...
It was always the dream
of a woman, running in circles,
one foot nailed to the floor...
Any lovespells, this dark twist,
might have accidently incurred,
curse them to be lifted, too...
It was always the dream
of a woman running with scissors,
trying to reach the end of a dark hallway...
This inflagrante delicto...But, now I get it...
Now, I get it...Curse the fact, I'm always
jabbing out my own eyes...Curse it! Dash it!
Damn it all to hell and back in a handbag!

[anirbas]

~Job Description

I'll not be a confessor...
It's not in my job description
or my dream...Kind of a been there,
done that kind of thing...And I'm to jaded,
flagellated by the hand of others, as well my own...
To believe, anything is going to change...
I kind of took a trip and never left the farm,
when first I practiced, to deceive myself...
This one's on me...This one's on me...
I already knew, this lesson, I just learned...
The only love unconditional, is betwixt and between,
a parent and a child...But, I did it...
I took a chance...And I won't regret the experience...
But, I'm not a confessor...And I may or may not,
be a modern day slave, or concubine...Possibly,
a well paid whore...But, at least,
there's dignity, to that label...

[anirbas]

~Literally...

corners are nice places...
lee spaces, one can run to
when all else fails...
as all else, is want to do...
corners, are comfort zones...
a place where two walls intersect...
two walls, that have your back...
corners are nice places...
when seated or standing against them...
you can see all around you...
nothing can come at you, unannounced...
one can catch one's breath, in corners...
before one pulls out an ax, and gets medieval...
alone, with oneself, hacking at one's breastbone
in a frenzy a berserker would be proud to own...
performing the rough surgery, of giving
one's own self, the gifting of a blood eagle...
ripping wide the hatcheted rib cage...
jerking one's own heart and lungs,
from their dark little box, inside...
throwing the entire heaving and throbbing mess
upon the ground, and stomping it til blood
and life of it spits and spews...stomping it...
until, it throbs no more...heaves no more...
is nothing but a congealing, grease spot,
smeared across the bloody floor...
and then, sinking back,
cradled by the reassuring,
half boxed space of the corner...
finally able to catch one's breath...
because it isn't there anymore...
corners are nice places...
lee spaces, one can run to
when all else fails...
as all else, is want to do...
corners, are comfort zones...
a place where two walls intersect...
two walls, that have your back, literally...

~Sabrina.

[anirbas]

~Otherwise

The moon is always full...
It is only our perception from where we stand,
on the rounded cheekbone of this planet,
that makes it appear, any lesser,
to any given degree or latitude...
I could be wrong, but yes?
Is the moon not always full?

The moon is always full,
when running with the wolves;
and/or dancing with a moonchild...
Womanchild with stars in her eyes...
Because, she's got her head tilted back,
staring at the evening skies...
Peeking over her dance partner's shoulder...
Looking for her mother, Lady Luna...
Whilst a wolf pack cavorts
about her bare heels and tippy toes...

The moon is always full,
when running with wolves;
or dancing with a loon,
as she's a certifiable,
child of the moon.
Even the dove,
knows not what to do
with her, sometimes...
But, like the eagle,
he is at heart,
he keeps on trying,
to understand her...

And for that,
sometimes,
even when dancing
alone, her eyes full of stars,
because her head is tilted back,
staring into the infinity
of the night skies...

She halts her jigging,
long enough to whisper, thank you...
To the everything and nothing,
that the universe is,
ginning and spinning,
above her cranium...

Then the moonchild,
drops to all fours,
to transmorgriph
to the lucan
at heart
she is...

Disappears
into the horizonal ether,
along with the rest of the wolf pack...
And nothing is left, but the echo
of their sothic songs...
But, the moon is still full...
Even, when it may appear, otherwise...

~Sabrina.

[anirbas]

~*"Mother of Mercy, is this the end of Rico?"*~

~line spoken by one of the bad guys, from the animated movie, Home on the Range-just before a one ton steer, or was that a cow? Flew through the sky and flattened him, to the ground...

~*~

~All Together...

One day, you will look up, realize
I've not been seen in days...
Or it could take weeks,
for you to cop to the fact,
I faded, wavered,
then disappeared,
all together...

~*~

~Matching Set

Good to know,
you're pain is eating
away at you...It means,
we're still a matching set...
Inspite of the fact,
all excuses for doing so, aside,
it is you, that gave up,
on us...Not I...

So, yes...
Good to know,
tears stain your face...
I lick my lips, hungrily, as I gaze at them...
As hungrily, as I will lick them from your face...
Not because I enjoy the bitter taste...
But, because I'm dehydrated...
I require fluids...I need fluids...
To replace the flood that broke the dam
of me, a bit over a fortnight, ago...

~*~

~Razz-a-ma-tazz

Excuse me...I apologize...I mistook you...
For someone I knew...I thought you were somebody,
I could fall in love with...I thought
you were special...That you would care
about the way I feel...Watching you spread
your love and lightfilled lies all over the place,
Yes, that's what I thought...I thought...
Key word there...Thought...Thought...

New thought...What if...Perhaps,
I was even more wrong than all that sappy,
syrupy, I thought, jazz and razz-a-ma-tazz...

~*~

Happenchance...

All I did, was cede control of me,
from the hands of one puppet master,
into the hands of yet another? I only thought,
I was calling some of the shots...
There's that key word, again...

But, oh how passionately,
this marionette, danced,
danced, danced at your
fingertips, puppeteer...

Petted and vetted,
in plain sight...
You cannot say,
you have not been
as wooed as you wooed...
The writing that attests to that,
is all over the walls...True that...

But, oh...How I danced,
at the end of the lightning,
sparking from your fingertips...

Your directed every move I made...
And most miraculous of all...
Is that I let you...
Didn't put up a bit of a fight...
Didn't balk in quivering fright...
As what you wanted...I wanted, too...
Me, dancing at your fingertips,
in our own little world,
the one we dreamed of,
planned and built,
together...

Not alone...
Not talking...
Not speaking...
Not touching in anyway...

You let go the strings of me, puppeteer...
Dumped me in the aftermath of the show...
Just dropped me to the floor,
where I fell with a clatter...

No, I didn't shatter...
Because, no matter,
what you may think of me...
I'm not a victim...
I'm a survivor...

But, I broke...

And though,
I managed to shove,
my wooden legs,
back up over,
my feet...

Now, I can't dance...
And this dark twist,
I walk with a limp...
Listing, to and fro,
from side to side...
Rather like a ship,
rudderless and bereft
of any safe harbor...
And what a sight I am...
Crying for over a fortnight,
gives one the harshest of frog eyes...

~*~

~Thumper...

You have the nerve,
to piss and moan,
like you were the dumpee,
instead of what you were and are, puppet master...
Here's a hint...the word starts with a d...
And ryhmes with humper, jumper and thumper...

~*~

~Good Company...


I get it, adventurer...Perhaps,
I was never part of the journey...
I get it...Happenchance, I was...
Just another destination...
I could be wrong...
But, I personally,
think this little trick,
was a destination,
you can safely say,
outshone Spain...
Walk away, from me...
Go ahead...You'll never
forget me...And you deserve
that...As misery does so love
to know, it's in good company...

~*~

I dance, I dance, I dance
at your pain...Still longing,
to dance at your fingertips...
As I lick my lips,
gazing hungrily,
at the glistening
tracks of your tears...


Hhhhhhhoooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwlllllll...

~First in Line...

I knew, when the wall came tumbling down,
so to speak...You'd be the first on raceday...
First, if not only one, in line...
To throw stones at me...
Deserved or otherwise...
Is it just me? Or is just me,
you get a kick, out of dishonoring?
Afterall, it wouldn't be the first time...

And that's why,
in advance,
of your expected
treachery,
I was gazing,
cypherically,
at the graceful
line of your throat...

I knew, you'd be,
the first, if only one,
in line...Good to know,
you didn't disappoint me...
Well, not much anyway...
I was hoping, I was wrong...