WxP

isinyc
02-03-2006, 15:13

Lonesome, lonesome
I feel the bitter cold
of loneliness
coming over me
winter came in august this year
and it found me
confused,
betrayed and
in pain
love has come and gone
and left me stranded
hitch-hiking
through my own life
searching once again
for meaning,
for passion.

Lonesome, lonesome
its the august cold
of loneliness
sending shivers through me
winter came so soon this year
and oh how I've winterd thus far
I close my eyes
and see her face
fading into a blur
and desperately search
for one last look
one last smile
as I slide
deep
in a whirlwind of
uncertainty
who am I?
who am I?

Lonesome Lonesome
I am turning cold as steel
its this steely cold of august
taking over me.

9.7.04

isinyc
02-03-2006, 15:18

Every year, the natural transition of seasons incites them to quarrel for our senses. Autumn, the most dreaded of seasons is at our threshold as summer like a peacock flaunts her array of merits for the last time. When he was younger, Isak often wondered if summer felt bad leaving (or any season for that matter). Was that the reason she always tried so hard to leave an unforgettable impression. Almost like saying "Please don't forget me....", or was that simply his inclination of avoiding change and become sentimental towrads everything that ends, even that which should, such as a season.

The summer sun shone its bright rays in the morning, and the autumn breeze danced seductively through the air. There was beauty in the sky. Two seasons intertwined in perfect unison like lovers kissing goodbye. He looked ahead and saw the future attempting to restrain the melancholy of nostalgia touching his face.

krutonja
02-04-2006, 00:08

te lumshin duart isinyc nqs i ke krijuar ti
shume te bukura
ajo lonesome lonesome e shkruar me shume ndjenje
kurse ajo e dyta....sa e bukur....fliste per vjeshten...stinen time te preferuar
urime

isinyc
02-04-2006, 11:22

krutonja, jane te mijat.... sh. flmdrt. per komentet.

isinyc
02-04-2006, 20:43

Midnight Express
i crash into you
with nocturnal passion
and unfashionable desire
of affection.
Divided,
love and lust
theoretically impaired...
i glare at you
with all these feelings
sinking down
raising me
into empty space,
as i taste
your salty lips
from your salty
face
i see your grace
i feel your grace
i know this place......
its glory ways
its glory days
my glory lives
In salty tastes.

I enjoy you.

Everyday
I run away
To find myself
close to you
Midnight Express,
One way,
Always brings me back
Somehow.
Lost and found
Silent but sound
Smiling,
I frown
And close my eyes
Upon your sight
I feel you smile
Erotic, passionate
Forbidden,
I’m bound
To you
By nothing else
But love
Refound,
By breath itself
I breathe your ground.

krutonja
02-04-2006, 23:09

whoa
shume e bukur edhe kjo
ti duhesh te jesh vajze se nuk ka se si te shkruaje nje djale me kaq ndjenje
te lumshin duart

isinyc
02-05-2006, 01:59

ndjejm edhe ne....

isinyc
02-05-2006, 02:01

slowly gliding
away from me,
getting smaller
into a perfect horizon.
As time passes
with each moment and
the feelings it possesses,
you're disappearing,
as the distance grows.
Our distance grows.
I find myself alone again.
The fires have burned out,
passion has cooled
love is just a feeling
that i remember feeling
but can't feel anymore.
How strange
to see a stranger
in someone I adored.

A stranger in my future,
I picture
you will have remained beautiful
deep into time
how disturbing
that now your beauty fades
erasing slowly
from my memory
what once caused me to shed tears
will get lost in my oblivion
it will fade to gray
like an old film
with actors that have since passed away
Ahhh, we were stars then.

isinyc
02-05-2006, 02:10

I am
lost in the right path
towards
ambiguous virtues
towards
fusha, kodra, lumej e male

I am
the supposed bearer
of calculated propensities
the supposed savior
of Albanian virginity

I am
the alpha male
whose seed spurns
supposed greed
among the fertile
with a desire for
pimitive virtue

I am
persona non grata
compassionate,
emotional,
a reminder
that along with testosterone
men produce tears

I am
Romeo.
Suffering,
from the quintessential
love story

I am....

isinyc
02-05-2006, 02:12

It has been a good new year. Busy weekdays and entertaining weekends. Goethe says, "A man can endure anything except a succession of ordinary days" only to soften it with "Enjoy when you can, and endure when you must" All in all it sums up to living and I am certain that that is what I am doing.

Sometimes it feels like we're so busy trying to make a life that we forget how to live it. I rarely look up anymore, only to be amazed when I catch a starry night. It reminds me of Tirana summer nights in the 80's, standing on my balcony where the sky was a perfect black, smothered in glimmering stars like a recepie gone wrong - yet so beautiful. In America it used to be my 'quality alone time'...silence and the murky NY sky when generous enough to let a few stars shine through. Anyway, to spare you reader, anymore tedious detail - what i mean to say is...I miss slowing down and enjoying life, so tonight I paused for a few minutes and looked up. I would imagine I resembled a believer searching for the face of God, but my expression would have told you otherwise as my spirit resonated, and for the moment I was a God.

There's always melancholy in nostalgia. However, it is distinguishable from the mourner's melancholy. No, I certainly was not mourning. It was a bittersweet melancholy, celebratory in nature as it was marked by a memory of happiness, a longing for it - nostalgia. "Happiness is the longing for repetition" (Kundera) I searched deep within me, and pulled memories locked in boxes that have long been shelved. Happyness is the longing for repetition I wondered as I stared at the unusually dark sky and the shimmering lights emerging forth from it. I felt the brisk January air gently burn my skin and thought of repetition as I mechanically moved a cigarette in and out of my mouth; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale - if it were only that simple.

__________________
Përmbi za, që lëshon bylbyli,
Gjuha shqipe m'shungullon,
Përmbi erë, qi nep zymbyli,
pa da zemrën ma ngushëllon.
Gegë e toskë, malësi, jallia,
jan nji komb, m'u da s'duron,
fundë e majë nji asht Shqipnia,
e nji gjuhë t'gjith na bashkon.

lejda

__________________
Live simply. Love generous. Care deeply. Speak kindly.