You think you found your destination II

I know you've tried to connect yourself with my aura
I have felt your echo across the distance
And your breath pushed my boat sail
I know you're about to cross the bridge wrong
Blinded by the fog of years, and firmness that come with metal links
You take that safe place, to the mainland, to the stable destination
I know you're forcing yourself to love in a standard way
And you think the rest is just a tale,
You think there is no love of explosions and shooting stars
Moving in the sky destroying doubts and cities with the power of his light
You think the mystery should go before lighting the candles and choose rings
You think love is calm, always in the same place,
The promised gaze is one that smiles at you
But you still feel there is something more
A multicolored bird that has not yet collided in your window
A house that takes you to many houses and mazes that smells
A golden knife that trembles and shakes transporting the remaining Ruby
With pieces of my force that strives to undermine
A place near your chest to finally be stolen
Privateer your heart, your  libertarian heart...

You know that I don't care about your wedding day.
You know that is not true that false look of happiness
You know that gifts and preparations
They are nothing but dust on a table before the blow of my wills
You know from the first day
My destiny is fading away attempts
The conspirators inserted between my wings and your forehead,
But you think that I can not, you think that I can not
And you convince yourself that I simply don't exist,
But you know within yourself that you're still waiting for me,
The first of my steps near to your home could change everything
Until the day of the meeting, until the day of the wedding
So I'm at ease knowing that the impact of my kite
It feeds on the wood of your dreams knotted in the wind and the distance
Thar weighs us from the day when the separated Us...

Press phtotograph of Kenan Imirzalioglu and Sinem Kobel, modified by the blog author, 2015.

Milza López. 2015

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THE LOVE OF SUCH A ONE

VI.

O thou who art my soul's comfort in the season of sorrow,

O thou who art my spirit's treasure in the bitterness of death!

That which the imagination has not conceived, that

which the understanding has not seen,

Visiteth my soul from thee, hence in worship I turn toward thee 

By thy grace I keep fixed on eternity my amorous gaze,

Except, O king, the pomps that perish lead me astray.

The favour of that one, who brings glad tidings of thee,

Even without thy summons, is sweeter in mine ear that songs.

In the prostrations of prayer thought of thee, O lord,

Is necessary and binding on me as the seven verses.

To thee belongs mercy and intercession for the sin of infidels:

As regards me, thou art chief and principal of the stony-hearted.

If a never-ceasing bounty should offer kingdoms,

If a hidden treasure should set before me all that is,

I would bend down with my soul, I would lay my face in the dust,

I would say, Of all these the love of such a one for me!'

Eternal life, me thinks, is the time of union,

Because time, for me, hath no place there.

Life is the vessels, union the clear draught in them;

Without thee what does the pain of the vessels avail me?

I had twenty thousand desires ere this;

In passion for him not even (care of) my safety remained.

By the help of his grace I am become safe, because

The unseen king saith to me, Thou art the soul of the world.'

The essence of the meaning of "He" has filled my heart and soul;

"Au" cries the street-dog, and neither have I third or second".

The body, at the time of union with him, paid no regard to the spirit;

Tho' incorporeal, he became visible unto me.

I aged with his affliction, but when Tabriz 

You name, all my youth comes back to me.

-"Selected Poems from the Divani Shamsi Tabriz"

Edited and translated by Reynold A. Nicholson

Source Rumi ORG

Did Your Father Ever Die? - Cemel Sureya

Did your father ever die? 

Mine died once. I went blind 

He has been washed up. 

got and taken away

I never expect this from my father 

I became blind 

Did you ever go to a hammam? 

One of the lights went off  when I was there

One of my eyes went off I went blind 

There was a round shaped sky on top 

It was blue all over I became blind 

The stones the hammam stones 

The stones were so bright like a mirror 

I saw half of my face in the stones 

It was like something like something bad 

I wouldn’t expect this from my face 

I became blind 

Did you ever cry when you were soapy? 

Cemal Süreya, 1958 

Poem also appears in Ezel television series, 

Episode 62

. M A R Í A .

 Search for her in the field

of your bitten dreams,

She is the poison in the years

of the forbidden winds.

Her spell needs for vice

to make it beat in your heart,

and her next soul is born in martyrdom

of the angels-owners of the reason.

 

Why is  she frightening and strange?

Why is she insensitive and inhumane?

Why it she intangible in the glare of the people?

Why should she die in the light of her sister?

Because she chose to walk

in the kingdom into oblivion,

because she was not born to love,

because she is María, the daughter of the Abyss.

 

And because she lives in the forest

of the sharpened memory,

ready to turn back

the time that has not passed

and move the hours into her favor,

save kisses in her dreams

(that today she will see achieved),

leave hugs in her flashes

and in the scented hatred.

 

María will keep on running

without knowing what is before her eyes,

and will believe hers what she goes taking

as if she was able to defeat

the heart that is dangerous,

the heart that is powerful...

Extracted from "The Poisoned Arrow and Other Texts",

Milza López, 2007.

BRAND NEW BOOK: A Journal Into Bipolar Disorder

I am very happy to present you a brand new book: A Journal Into Bipolar Disorder, which is my personal diary of living with this mental illness. 

The book contains reflections and personal notes of my experience through the "roller coaster" of Bipolar, like the one entitled "Differential Diagnosis" or "The Culminant Moment", and also has several exclusive poems such as "Mixed State", "Spiral" and "Episode", between many others. 

It has 29 brand new contents and 52 pages, and there is a spanish version too, called "Diario de una joven bipolar", wich is also available in Amazon. 

This is the First Kindle Edition and soon you will be able to buy the Paperback version, so you can enjoy it in the traditional way too. The book is FREE ond Kindle Unlimited!.

I hope you find a lot of interesting bridges that connect you with this condition in this book,  I am responding any question and will be soon telling you more about my experience and this brand new book. 

Hugs from Chile,

Milza López.

Poems tribute to Michael Jackson II: We Had Him

Now is the turn of Dr. Maya Angelou. She is a well-known american writter, activist and singer, who died in 2014. She decided to show her respect and admiration for Michael sending a poem about his passing to be read in the Memorial that had place at Staples Center in 2009. It was a very emotional moment and today I divulgate this wonderful poem.

Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing

Now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind

Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace

Sing our songs among the stars and and walk our dances across the face of the moon

In the instant we learn that Michael is gone we know nothing

No clocks can tell our time and no oceans can rush our tides

With the abrupt absence of our treasure

Though we our many, each of us is achingly alone

Piercingly alone

Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him

He came to us from the Creator, trailing creativity in abundance

Despite the anguish of life he was sheathed in mother love and family love and survived and did not more than that

He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style

We had him

Whether we knew who he was or did not know, he was our’s and we were his

We had him

Beautiful, delighting our eyes

He raked his hat slant over his brow and took a pose on his toes for all of us and we laughed and stomped our feet for him

We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing

He gave us all he had been given

Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana’s Blackstar Square, in Johannesburg, in Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama and Birmingham England, we are missing Michael Jackson

But we do know that we had him

And we are the world.

Michael Jackson in the early 80's. Credits to the Photographer. 

HUGS FROM CHILE, 

Milza López.

Poems tribute to Michael Jackson - Idol Lost

This is a special post conmemorating the memory of Michael Jackson, who passed away suddenly at June 25 th in 2009. I will never forget that day and eventhough people say time cures everything and stuff, I still feel exactly the same thing. 
Everyday I still miss Michael, his smile, his strength to conquer the world and his dreams of peace and love remain so hard in my heart. So this week he will take over this blog and I'm posting a few poems about him, this first one was written the Concert Film Director Johnathan D. Jones, and I am adding also a video were he recites it. Thanks to the page UK LOVES MJ for divulgating this magnificent piece of art. 

IDOL LOST

There I was, sitting alone atop the staircase, a waterfall of tears.

My mind zombie like, as I could not fathom what my lens had just captured.

He was beautiful - an Angel on stage - the voice of perfection.

While I withdrew from my family and the world,

I opened my eyes to imagine a genius that took me away.

Through song, through dance, with a soft tone, and a welcoming spirit,

He was me – I shadowed his life.

Certain similarities made me believe I was better than the greatest.

One that stole my soul, replaced, the figure that didn’t live in my house.

Every step precise - every move sensational –

As a kid we all believe in magic.

This magician allowed me to never grow up.

Our talents were not the same. But I studied him.

Added much of the good in him to help make me better.

He was rhythm.

Far beyond the dance I saw him change the world

As a professional child he was on the back end of the chitterling circuit.

A few years removed from colored entrances, and yet love leapt from his lips.

Cultures and races the world over sang in chorus.

He was BAD!

The 1, The only 1,

The 1 human being that I truly saw how Great God is through his warmth

I could not afford what many had the fortune to buy, and see, but I saw him-

I saw him in my dreams.

He stood just behind my eyelids.

I stood in front of mirrors for hours and hours -

Trying to look-like him - I wanted to talk like him,

For a moment I wanted to be him.

Never has anyone captured me completely.

Inspired is'nt justice - empowered by his ascend

No Prince could compare to The King’s gifts.

Entertained family, during holidays with fully imitated shows.

For just those moments I would really become him.

I grew, my gifts came in slightly different packaging, but I stole some of his wrapping.

I absorbed his will and determination for perfection to consume everything I did.

I watched, I studied, I idolized.

When he went into orbit and walked the moon, I simply sobbed.

Sat on the steps so amazed that all I could do was cry.

Imperfection is human,

So there he was, so high above that missiles had to be made up to reach him.

But he wore a glove to protect himself from the disease of hatred, and misunderstanding.

I stored all the good he shared.

Never punished him for falling.

Like a toddler who brings us so much joy, I just wanted to help him up -

Just to see him walk again

To a rich man, eating from trash is strange.

He reached a stage never, imagined, by anyone else, so to a closed minded few -That was strange.

A face -A nose -A color –

As insignificant, as a bag, holding a gift that a child has always wanted.

He was punished.

Backs turned, stories told, while people ran off with the loot.

Not I - I, idolized him.

I’d wished to talk to him.

I dreamed of looking through rare videos, and pictures, together -

So stored in my heart that one day I would open my eyes to see my dream.

But as sudden as a blink, I stood in my room as he was returned to God.

My heart ached. My one dream to share time with him, had been swept away,

or so I thought

As magical as the first moment I saw him -

It was as if he left me with a gift.

Though hard, and not the way I wanted, I had my wish.

As he laid surrounded in gold, and song -

I sat with him as rare pictures appeared across the stage

He was a word that hasn't been created.

He is,

MICHAEL JACKSON

HUGS FROM CHILE!!

Milza López