The scribe

Another photo ...and another photo and yet another photo
all the same
a dark figure sitting on a chair infront of a desk in a barely lit room
writing
and writing
and writing
.... the photo doesn't tell much about what he's writing
but leaves a lot to imagine

However i can't help but think this writing is somehow related to me
thoughi can't even tell who that person is
not in one single picture do i see his face
or does he turn to me

he's all bent over the desk and writing as if spilling all his insides out
or maybe i'd just like to think so

maybe he's writing a love letter
but that can't be the case
it's too dark
and he's too focused

maybe he's working on his final exams
but there are no books or other papers..only that he's writing on

maybe it's a story
but is it just one page

unless...maybe ... it's a suicide note
the place is dark
i can barely see him
as if fading away
instead of approaching
maybe it's the final chapter of whatever he's writing
maybe it's not

i guess i'll never know

The last tick of Mr. Redemption's Watch

We were sitting together in a coffee shop, chatting about some project, when a bearded ruffian walked in, he was around his thirties and was leaning on a wooden stick shiny and plain, made of reddish wood with the wood's veins smoothly glowing on its shiny surface, on top of the stick was, what seemed like a cube with ying yang engraved on every side, he ordered an espresso and sat on a stool staring at his mug, everyone had paused for a second upon noticing him, someone made a comment about his stick, i'm sure he must've heard it, but it was as if we weren't there, we continued our talk and life went on as usual....

every week we'd gather in that place and the same man would appear again, and he'd sit there sipping his espresso and lost in his own world, untill one time i was overcome with intrigue i had to talk to him, i walked up to him hesistantly, and stretched out my hand to shake his, he turned his head and looked at my hand, and said " what took you so long......." i wondered what he meant then, i was like "excuse me... you must mistake me for someone else....i'm raoul....raoul rahmy" ..he gestured with his head with the slightest of interest, while mumbling " it's just a name... another bloody name" ......

the sales man who wouldn't come down the cliff

We live in a little town somewhere
...where only little stories can be told

We're born to live ...and live to grow old

There 's a hardware store in our little town ...
that sells hammers and screws

There's a new guy in town ... who used to play the blues

In our little town there's always room

So the blues man became a hardware salesman
and little by little he became part of the little town

little time passed ... untill all were awakened by an aweful sound

The salesman was upon a cliff with his saxophone in hand

He kept playing and playing ...and wouldn't come down

We called the sherif... the mayor ...we assembled the whole town

But the salesman wouldn't stop playing ...and he wouldn't come down

The stores were open ...and later they closed

But the sales man wasn't a sales man anymore

He stood there upon the cliff playing his heart away..
till he could pla no more

then he wwent back to the hardware store and just worked there a little more

a week passed and he returned to where he climbed before

and no one ...not even the entire town could stop him from playing more

and he kept on going up the cliff ...to play a little bit
untill he lost his breathe

then he sold some hardware ...and went up for more

No one understood that man ... in our little town

we have so little time ... and that's all he had in store

it's on the noose

Why'd you have to do it
why did you fuckin do it!

Who asked you to be a hero But....but i thought you needed help

That was help i was getting there you fu....fu..ffff.. Are you ok? should i call someone?
Haven't you done enough?! you shortsighted fuckin
hero wannabe?! What are you talkin about man..

You killed my only hope ..... i was finally getting justice Are you on something man...what the

You won't understand....! you don't wanna understand
there's only one way out of this mess Man! put that thing down! i just saved

the show's over .... i'm turning my other cheek now

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u wanna pay me to do what? ....forget it man
as your father i'm not asking you ....i'm telling u
it's the only way out is this like some sort of ugly sexual fantasy?

it's not i can assure you!

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I hereby sentence the defendant to a life sentence in
the state penetentiary for murder of the first degree
I'm innocent ...i'm fuckin innocent u bastard

I need a coffee

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That's right just look up and take it like it is I ain't your bitch man

Down here YOU FUCKING ARE

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Now grab that whip ...yeah that one over there I ain't using that

I'm telling you Fuckin Do IT!

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only three breathes away

in my darkest moments
everything collapses
everything that seemed like everything

there was still another story to be written
another song to be sung

one two three
out of innocence and into the wild

one two three
down in the lake at the edge of the forest

one two three
no more breaths to spare

one two three
the moon has embraced the sun

one two three
the day is done

one two three
a speeding carriage heading to town

one two three
winter and spring

one two three
a flower blooming inamidst the storm

one two three
........the unknown

Across the wall

My name is patience ... though of which i bare none
I live in a small shack ... with a small family beneath a shadowed sun

My days have been all the same ... they've interested no one
The only attention i got was from the bugs infesting our little farm

Many Sleepless Nights have passed ...gazing at the sky
Across a tainted window pane ... which simply defines my life

A Gray fallen wall ...made out of bricks and hay
surrounds my little world ... in which i'll eventually fade

My world is small you see ... enough for a day or two
The rest of which just withers ... while looking for a spot to bloom

I've made the best of it all ... within that fallen wall
Many time i've leant against it ... and wodered if it might fall

untill that day a sparrow fell upon it ... and a brick came falling down
it fell upon the damp grass ... with a silence so profound

i approached that fallen brick with anxious yet cautious steps
it just lay there peacefully ...separated from its kin

i couldn't help but wonder if there were any more surprises that were resting there
so i grabbed ...and flung it ...towards the wall again

it split up in two ...and fell where i'd had picked it up
inside there was simply nothing ... so i hoped another try might make the change

i flung one of the pieces against the wall the again
nothing was there inside it ... and so ...i tried again

untill the smallest piece was carried by the wind
i leaned against the wall ... and wondered where the sparrow went

maybe he'll be here tomorrow ... maybe another brick shall fall again
maybe i'll live to see ..the last brick fall off the wall

or maybe ....there's no use waiting ... the wall wasn't meant to fall