resizing of cats

my Kat changes his weight and size depending on external conditions. he becomes small when he wants something. he becomes light when he walks on the banister. when he decides to wake me up by jumping onto me from the window-sill, he becomes heavy. at night, when he guards me as we sleep, he grows very…

little grey birds build their nest in the arch of a church window

from where i sit, through the sunlit stain-glass, you are shadows flitting up and sideways against the light, building a continuation to things i barely understand. from the outside, i cannot reach skywards enough, so deep etched in the eaves is your work. little sounds, chirping, dollops of mud and what liquid you find to…

Twenty-four. Magic

today i happened across a tv-set, which showed some episode of the ‘blinky bill’ – apparently an australian cartoon where the main heroes are anthropomorphised coala and platypus younglings in search for a) christmas tree and b) snow to c) bring it to no less athropomorphised wombat adult. the quest ended with a christmas eucaliptus…

the ownership, or this is _not_ my church

‘this is my church,’ she said vehemently. ‘i come here when i feel like it. and the last time i did… i think it was some two months ago, there was a woman preaching, and i do not like churches where the women are in the leadership. and she did not speak with he feeling,either,…

shadows

frying chicken today (another epic event, resulting in a huge burn on my wrist), i suddenly had this memory-vision. of my maternal grandmother frying chicken, on the old wood stove, and us – my brother and me – waiting. i do not remember my mother’s mother very well. i do not have stories she told.…

october approximately 3

the maples turn scarlet. the mists stop air traffic (good job there, mists). my soul is confused about where i am, and has gone missing. i so understand that. the sadness roams freely, and the birds have quit squabbling over the autumn flies. probably not tasty enough. and i think of jesus, and how all…

translation attempts

this one is almost the most brilliant song of all i have ever heard. here, my faint attempt at translation to latvian (see below) . the eng version – one of them – here. Es žēlastības pasargāts un svētīts – viss pārējais ir pēkšņi nesvarīgs; Dievs ir ar mums no vakara līdz rītam, Viņš mūs…

on the flying spaghetti monster* side

this is a counterweight to the monstrous beginning of this day. if god were a control freak, he’d go insane from the insanity of the things under-evolved humanity is capable of. i will treasure my free will at all times, and thank god i have it. *those who are interested in the FSM idea, click…

katla

and suddenly, watching ‘the brothers lionheart‘ , nothing is simple, and nothing is not true. when you jump in faith, what is the name of your land?

hogfather – high definition (or why the sun will not rise)

terry pratchett  is, and will be, one of my all-time favourite authors who, possibly, can do no wrong in a literary creative sense. his books are precise, observant, real, witty, scathing, clever, unforgettable and extremely well formulated. films, of course, are not books. films are too visual. in addition, any film featuring anyterry pratchett work, will be…

lvls

today, at some point, holding my frame together with sheer willpower, trying to be sociable and coherent, i suddenly realised that all i really wanted, even longed for, was controllable levels of pain . nothing fancy, just that. gee, are my standards deteriorating and ideals imploding. Posted by Wordmobi

a letter

dear god, i am only a poet in a world of too many words. thank you for listening to my silences. faithfully yours, me Posted by Wordmobi

what i believe* in

new york (i mustn’t stop believing in it or else it will cease to exist) that little invisible virii (viruses) are the cause of the common cold that there are true kiwis that there is a huge sock-eater somewhere in my room (invisibly present) that vegetables talk that my half-empty mug is also half-full that…

english is my religion

in the beginning, there was a language, and a kid. the language was centuries older than the kid. then the language was grafted onto the kid, and the language grew into a world. but the kid loved mathematics, and regarded the language only as a useful tool. as i look back at my school years…