Summer Nights

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Give me time, for time is all I need
On the island of winds to blow my mind
Away, my eyes greedily to feed
With images beyond the usual kind.
The summer’s lease has not yet expired
And I, a lonely pebble on the shore,
One tender hug for long I have desired,
A more prestigious place than before
For eyes like yours to be admired.
Look at the sun! Sinking into the sea
More orange as if it is ashamed.
Look at the stars! Hanging for you and me
Not too bright, but sort of out-faded.
On this very shore, where I’ve spent
My life’s lonely summer nights,
One little glimpse of love I’ve rent
Within your hungry eyes.
The nightingale sings to him:
“Enjoy this night, it is your last”
While I, captured in a dream,
I pray for time: “Stop moving fast”.

Negative Capability

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“Accept uncertainty and the unresolved”, he said. If John Keats lived nowadays, he would be bitterly satisfied to see how his technique applies perfectly to our everyday life. And alas, how much does our life resemble to his poetry!

For uncertainty is what we know best, since nothing is certain, stable or fixed anymore. Nothing has been left to believe in or to hope for. They have greedily – and very tactfully indeed – taken everything from us without asking. Stripped of any kind of values, productivity, creativity, integrity, faith, hope, love, dreams, thinking we try to stand still on a moving ground. Like already dead leaves we go where the wind blows and hell it blows constantly towards decline, despair, decadence. So, what are we to do? The unresolved seems the only resolution. Accept it as it is. Most certainly you think I am a plain pessimist. Well, maybe I am, but still, who or what can prove me wrong?

I want to believe that Keats’ Nightingale does exist, but I truly wonder, who is moved by its singing anymore? We get delight from other sources much more earthly and superficial. Just turn on your TV set and see what I mean. Even the figures on Keats’ Grecian Urn seem to have a better luck, experiencing immortal happiness through their static immobility.

I am not to continue further with my thoughts. I suppose I have made my point clear enough. And for Keats’ proponents, I have to declare this: I am not longing for death, I am longing for a real life!

The Stake Out

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It was a quiet autumn afternoon, a little moody, but just fitting to a wild place like New Orleans. At least that’s what she thought and she had many reasons to form such an opinion. She was going back and forth sitting on an old wooden rocking chair which creaked in every single move. The air smelled like dust and she thought that it was going to rain soon. She didn’t mind raining as long as she had nowhere to go. In fact she liked watching the raindrops pouring down the desert streets, cleaning the bloody freaking place.

She went inside, put on her military uniform and checked her armor. It was about time she took on her duty and went out patrolling. Maybe it was her lucky night tonight. Maybe the rain would force the Creature to show up and she could finally kill it. The darkness was falling quickly, so she hurried and run to hide at her usual stake out point. It was an abandoned farmhouse at the end of the town with plain view to the swamp, where the creatures had found refuge. Night after night she came here, waiting for their master, the Big Bad, the Creature, but she hadn’t seen it yet.

Suddenly, she observed a movement in the weeds. “They are awake” she murmured and held steadily the gun pointing to that direction. The misty atmosphere was blurring her vision, but she was a pro in shooting and most of all she was determined to get rid of these troubles once and for good. “Come on” she shouted impatiently and they started coming out of the fog screaming and thirsty for blood. “One, two, three…” she counted the corpses while shooting madly at them.

However, they seemed to be numerous and since she was fighting alone, she inevitably missed a few. One of them escaped her bullets and managed to reach her from behind, but before grabbing her with its fierce claws, it dropped dead. She turned around and surprisingly saw a man pointing at her with his gun.

“Who the hell are you?” she said furiously.
“Apparently your savior” he replied, while kicking the creature to be sure that it was dead.
“And who said I need to be saved?”
“You’re welcome” said the man, while taking a shooting position next to her.
“What are you doing?”
“I am helping you out”
“Like I said, I need no help”
“Yes, you do”
“No I don’t”
“Have you seen the big bad guy yet?”
“Have you?”
“Yeap! See these scars?” he opened his shirt and showed his chest.

She had seen many wounds. She had a few scars too, but this? It was incredible! Yet, she didn’t want to show any fear, so she just asked: “What is it like?”

“Wait and see” he replied indifferently.
“Alright, stay, but with one condition. I’m in charge here”
“Aye, aye, captain”
They started shooting again towards the swamp and the screams eventually ceased.
“Are they dead?” she whispered.
“Sssh” he uttered, while looking around with a sparkle in his eyes. “Shoot!” he finally cried.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. There it was! The Creature! Hell, it was huge and awful! Its tremendous roar echoed all over the swamp and made the water shake and the ground tremble. She let all her rage to come upon the Creature, which seemed to be though invulnerable and unstoppable. While it kept approaching them, she ordered him: “Run for your life!”

Disturbing Tranquility

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It was a rainy winter night and she could almost feel the pouring raindrops into her burning soul. Her vision was blurred, as her thoughts were for some minutes now. Standing alone with a cup of coffee in her hands, she was breathing deeply over the raising hot steam, while waiting for the announcement of her flight departure. The terminal was crowded as usual, but none of the noises around could draw her attention. She stayed focused on her cup, staring at the little waves made by her blowing the coffee.

Disturbing tranquility had become the motto of her life. She could find no peace, no stability in her hectic way of living, so she sought for any kind of excitement able to move her. She had travelled around the world, experiencing different cultures. She had met numerous people, experiencing different personalities. But no matter how many experiences she had gathered all these years of flying, she had never felt so strongly stuck. She vainly tried to recall one genuine private moment spent for her own sake. Vague memories of strangers talking, flirting, demanding, promising… Cold, impersonal hotel rooms, overestimated gourmet restaurants, noisy night clubs…

She looked at her wrist watch and wondered how quickly time flies. She picked up her suitcase and walked towards the exit gate. The ticket inspector smiled at her warmly, but she hardly gave back a typical nod. Ascending the plane stairs she felt like sinking into the ground. She put on a fake joyful face to welcome the passengers on board. After a while and when everybody sat down and fastened their seat belts, she demonstrated mechanically how to use the life vest and the oxygen mask in an emergency situation. Ironically, she thought that she was the one who needed safety guidance that moment.

The plane took off and now the green light indication permitted the unfastening of the seat belts. However, she stayed motionless, speechless, almost breathless until another air hostess, noticing her weird behavior asked her: “Are you alright?” These were the last words she could remember.

“Am I?” she wondered when she finally opened her eyes. White was the only color surrounding her: white room, white sheets, white clothes… She tried to get up, but she found herself too weak to do so.

“What’s wrong with me?” she uttered anxiously.
“You had a nervous breakdown. You need to rest”, said a white-dressed man.
“For how long?”
“For as long as it takes” he replied kindly, while checking the machine next to her.

She said nothing else. His smooth facial features, his tender moves and his gentle voice made her calm body and soul. A minute before she faint again, they smiled at each other and she strangely felt like being home.

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