Following the miragehere I am at the water's edgewithout the feeling of thirst~ Abba(s) Kiarostami
When your parents put you in a geisha house, you were 6 years old: did you feel free or in jail?
I felt free, because even then I knew I was now outside the stifling conventionality of society. Marked to be a woman unlike others.
Luth or ikebana?
Ikebana. It teaches us that things can be arranged however we like. As we like it.
Mayakovsky or Mishima?
Mayakovsky for his boldness, Mishima for his delicacy.
Sake or red wine?
Egg yolk: for the intimate ceremony or eating?
Unless I am starving: the intimate ceremony, I am waiting for someone to place the yellow yolk inside of me.
Have you ever loved a man you were sleeping with?
Even though it may seem incredible, but I have not slept with anyone … yet. I am a virgin.
What does bitter lemon inspire you to?
It’s the most inspiring thing in…
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Colors of summerFired by its ovens of clayRainbows burnt in May••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••#haiku #summerhaiku #colors #summers #heatison #prayingforrain☔ #spindles #colorwheel #rainbows #threads #headspins #thegreatderangement🌑 #weatherchange
A poem published recently in the wonderful RIC Journal, ever so grateful…
When hands, they all move violently
stretching in, pointing out
closing up and, shutting down
his fingers cast in iron, I
the story of a whole century can be heard
by the stretch of his fingers
In the tips of his notes
a segregation made lethal
in its capacity to foresee
the distinction between the message and
the tone of voice in which it breathes
such hands, when they
run up and down such bodies,
music takes birth, and
such hands, when they
move into doors
making of them, curtains
life sings and,
all else is violence.
Ashima Prashar is an Indian poet.
Back in the city Where people speak loudly and Seasons hush about, I, in the lap of Winters, suddenly alone. Solitude served cold; The walls of winter, Imitating my summers Inhibitions and, I see a blue rise Up and a cold red calm down. I hear crows and I caw back for nothing Loud cities… Continue reading Citybird
When faced with the new With a better way of life Take time, that'd suffice.
onset of winters rings unfailingly sweet still summer hides again