nocturmnia

untitled by buradori


day, i have nothing to add to you.

here we are though. picking our teeth with stars and waiting it out.

my hands float,

weightless in the dark.


eventually the sound and the blue will creep back in,
we'll pick up where we left off

and stumble along.

night: large as an iceberg,
veined in shadow and
black's incessant typography

you always stop to chat as you pass me;
you're patient as geology,

what choice do i have
but to watch your petals
open, yawn and fall

eye-lid kisses
unheld hands
dreams i missed out on having

for having sat with you
and chewed the fat off our 4pm coffee
and re-lived the lunchroom chatter,

this time with the lights off.

a brutal punch at the intersection of night and summer,


when tomorrow lands bare-legged and hungry
it'll hurt from toe-nail to nose-hair.

under the bed they'll find me clutching
the frontier of shadow as my blanket,
and mumbling prayers to daisies

kettering

friday is so far away by meyrem


my mom tells me to get married __i listen to some of it, the rest of the time i worry about my books that have to go in boxes again __i worry about when i'll be man-enough to have my own place mineminemine) __and i ate banana bread last night it took the better part of 5 months to get in shape again __(whatever that means) __are you listening to me? she asks __i am i am __and i am. __i'm tired of working, not really not so much working but there's no food at my place i get home too late to get to the supermarket i work out instead __instead i choose tomorrow's pocket square - there's a big appeal, all the big guns will be there, constitutional challenges always cause a stir __- i'm worried about my dad, about my sister, about my mom - there's no one i'm not worrying about __too many people have died this week, maybe that's the problem __i try and think about gol's baby instead, that's something new that can give me hope __this is because i listened to Hospice again tonight / i really should know better. __i'm 29 that scares me, 29 with roomates that scares me, 29 and i'm not sure when i left haifa, it feels like i'm the ghost and the real me's still there when i left the hague, it feels like i'm the ghost and the real me's still there, when i left LA, it feels like i'm the ghost and the real me's still there __and happy and unconfused and always knew where he was going and never got lost and never failed and everyone was proud of him and he wouldn't need to worry about his mom and dad and sister because he could look after them better __what does 'kettering' mean anyway? look that up q, remember to. __tomorrow all the big guns will be there. and the court of appeal will be constituted by the most senior judges. __the light blue tie i think. __and that concludes her case for why i need to be married. _yes. good. ok. right. fine. very well. __i'm 29 i'm in the wrong country in the wrong city in the wrong everything. __everyone gets mad at me when i say it but it's true. __this is the wrong place. i know that now. __i'm 29 i have to be careful with my decisions. i'm not a teenager anymore i can't just make stupid decisions. i've used up my quota of stupid decisions. __still i don't know how she ended up in my bed so i kissed her out of loneliness and we did that for a while. and i whispered jokes in her ear and she laughed and eventually we fell asleep. __when i woke up for work 2 hours later my ears hair eyelids lips everything hurt. __two weeks later when i woke up that was today i wasn't tired anymore but maybe this feeling (this same one i can never name understand comprehend anticipate decipher) decipher is the right word __is loneliness. __mom's asking me if i'd help her put new floors in. __are you kidding? it'll be the most fun thing i've done since the last time i put new floors in. __i mean that.

i'm the youngest almost-but-not-quite-adult i know.

i'm trying to keep it that way.

but all those books, with their quiet lips stuck in a box worry me.

i need more poetry.

i'm too tired to read.

all of this troubles me.

(if i pick the right pocket square for tomorrow,
if i run another 7 kms tonight


it
will
all
go
away

and i'll
be safe.

i. have. INTERNET!!!!

i have internet.
internet, internet, i have internet.

internet, internet, i love my internet.

to celebrate, you can all dance along to my new fav BFF best ever ever song:

Herman Dune, i wish i could see you soon

much has happened. and i've flipped hemispheres again. so. maybe i'll write something about that. (after i get through dancing with Herman Dune)

goodbye den-warcrimes-haag

pretty moment den haag by apennyfortheoldguy


so. i have three more days. on the fourth i leave. goodbye Hague. goodbye Netherlands. goodbye Europa. perhaps it is high time to stop and take stock of the last four months.


WHO WHAT WHERE / ALLEVERTHING /A CONCLUSION OF, SUMMARY OF, A RECOUNT, A LIST:

(1) for the second time this decade i stumbled around europe broken-hearted, confused, sad;
for the second time this decade i tried to run the clock on days by finding strange cinemas and dreaming myself into a different life.

(2) such fireworks. (i've never seen.) such madness. what a thrill.

(3) the Netherlands is a perfect place for an alien invasion to commence. never in my life have i left a country having developed an outright prejudice,_ but there you have it. i have discovered a place that is truly charmless.

(4) i grew a beard i loved. now it's gone. i see its shadow every day. what an odd thing to miss.

(5) inexplicably, i've had more lovers in the last four months than i've had in the last four years. all but one of them singular, stark experiences. icebergs scattered over 4 months of cold nights. things i couldn't cling to even if i had wanted to. phantom hours. the bones and fossils of affection. i have never seduced more women i have not been seduced by.

(6) in the rain i rode my bike. in the wind, when it almost knocked me over twice - a man walked besides me quicker than i could pedal. i rode by bike in the mist, i could see three feet ahead. the light lit up just that. i kept imagining the world would end and i'd tumble over off away into nothing and nothing and nothing. (it would be so quiet)

(7) when i danced with you i was alive and young and everything was something. you were something i could hold in my hands. i grasped you with my whole body. wouldn't let you go. haven't let you go. ___the ebb and flow of memories. i know you'll come and go. i'll find you from time to time when i drink tea and stare out of train windows and run on treadmills. you'll drift in and out of focus, blurred and green and dancing. i remember when we met, that's unusual too, i don't usually remember things like that. (here's one goodbye i put back in my pocket and avoid spending)

(8) today was my 22nd consecutive day of work. not a day off in almost a month. three more to go. my trash can today was nothing but paper coffee cups, cans of redbull and wrappers from muesli bars. what are you always doing? the others in my office want to know. i can never answer them directly. i don't want to upset them. are you really that busy?, what are you working on? i've crossed the intern-lawyer divide. ahh. just some evidence credibility stuff i say. truth is she's checking the footnotes on my draft. i offered to do it myself but "no. __nonono. we need your brain. come pick up the BiH draft from my office after lunch. A few people have been through it but... just... i don't know, fix it."
___I'm proud of myself, but i'm more proud of life. i had hoped it were true, and it is. work harderest. do anyevery task you get as well as you can. do it enthusiastically and with a smile. #Conquer.

(9) i am presently alive. which means in 4 months i have managed not to kill myself on a bicycle.

(10) the great mexican standoff. i refused to pay rent for my last month, he refused to guarantee return of my deposit. the art of war i kept saying, planning the next email response. the next move. he rejected, i challenged. he agreed, i vacillated. he changed the locks, i got in through a closet. then i walked away, destroyed his reputation, calmed my nerves, tried to meet a deadline and several hours later found myself mostly-naked falling asleep in a massive bed with a beautiful girl whose brown eyes sparkled at me in the dark.

(11) night after night. lying awake. not a wink of sleep. when i had them, i'd take a pill at 3 just to put an end to the shadowed monotony of it. __during the day i'd take the opposite pills to keep me sitting at my desk. sad as a teenage friday just keep reading i'd tell myself. keep reading till it's all over. (the waves) . (the furies) . (by any other name ... ) . they catch/caught up (me).
and then.
they left.

just like that.

(12) i just want to work out. i can run my way out of this. there's a solution to any problem in the convulsions of my body.


___*___*___*

it's taken nearly 2 hours to write this.
i don't know why.
maybe time is heavier than i thought.

(and faster)
(and slower)

good bye ICTY - which i'll miss
good bye holland - which i won't.
_

birthday notapoem.

NB: letter to mar + portrait to follow. (when i'm not at work). (with people's... noises) (blame them for cutting this short)

___*___*___*

even this time , i can't decide if it holds any water

an imaginary line a clock or two trip over ::
here now ends.starts another walk around the park.

i always feel loved at the quiet dinners. the same words we've used all day
spin them around our cups and roll them out again

it's almost midnight. they know the score but ask anyway: will i call a girl or hava drink or what?

(i smirk. another of those questions we lose immediately down a drain and don't miss).


___*___*___*

i'm grateful for the lack of wind. _for once
i arrive with something in my lungs.

to be considerate i let my room sit on mostly in darkness.
we share tea and nod through the things our mothers sisters fathers tell us -
the same words we've used all our days.

when i smile for my sister i remember what honesty is ;

i don't know much about the circus-show. in the parking lot i meet my friends and what we have
we hide in our bones.
_____(good luck worms gnawing their names off)


___*___*___*

when she picks up: you remembered i say. her response settles it: mothers don't forget.

i had hoped she would. it would make me feel better for not knowing how to count days.

i wouldn't give you the satisfaction she says.

because i feel suddenly so completely loved i'm overcome with guilt for each of the allbirthdays i've (always)forgotten - all my lost chances to make someone feel like this delicious


___*___*___*

i lie , alone . : ' , _think_ .

compare it.

when women purrr.breathe through the night, _gradations in gravity
__it's a tide ,
_______warmth.. _and sound,

in four hours i'll get up again for work.
on sunday.
__(it seems appropriate to me that today is a sunday)


the clock reads 3:59pm.
_i edit what i edit. __check what i check. ___occasionally add a sentence.

you're going home alone and working tomorrow? she's a little appalled. howwhy?


___*___*___*

because at the fingertip of my 29th year,

perhaps for the firstest time , (( maybe it always feels like the first when it's fresh ))

at the liptip of my 29th year

i can finally stand. _upstraight.

and over beyond that curve there's a-something i can't imagine yet ,


___*___*___*

what's new.

these are our words , always been.

our days, a few of yours in my pack of cards, a few of mine in your wallet.

when i sleep in the cold i whisper mar's blanket:

____it could never have been anything else
____it could never have been anything else
____it could never have been anything else



(thank god).

__

now playlist

30 dec - 3 jan

written on the sky by max richter

an echo from the hosts that profess infinitum by shabazz palaces

solitary native by alix perez & sabre

kaputt (LP) by destroyer

clouds (live unplugged) by patrice

palace by A$AP Rocky

video games by lana del rey

song for shelley by larry fegan the vegan

marvin's room by drake

sahara mahala by the jezebels (recently removed from illicit music list)

a little piece by the jezebels (as above)

the rock of 2011

i suppose it's expected that i write about 2011. a review or something. but i can't. not that i don't want to, i have lots i'd like to explore about it. but i actually can't. there's no way to do it and not write about _her. __i can't do it without her, she's too much of everything of it.

the problem is i can't seem to write about anything else either. it's a bit of a standstill. a mexican standoff. a rock standing between me and myself.

but tonight's not the night to try and fight it. i'm too tired. too old tonight. maybe tomorrow i'll be younger, and i can tackle it then. maybe tomorrow i'll be braver and braver.

tonight no.