Articles/Opinions/Essays

  • Bin Laden is dead. Long live the king.

    Submitted by Jaia Papitz on Thu, 2011-05-05 22:51

    The other day, the fear was murdered. Ambushed in the dark corner of the hope, the monster was slaughtered so we can reclaim ourselves from our evil twin that wiretapped and Guantanamoed US. A triumph of the bullet. The last supper of the saved nation. The redemption has been reached, the re-election en route.

    Incurable, we laid calmly under the caressing beams of the chemotherapeutic treatment, awaiting for the new beginning to arise from the malignant hope.

    The illusion had become a palpable reality, embraced by all that are in the pursuit of an unreachable happiness, dehumanizing our bones from the little humanity we were able to accumulate throughout millennia.

    The cheers are jubilant, the glorious moment is short lived but long enough to allow us to crawl back into the burrows of our panic since we all know that this feudal eye for an eye will soon leave all of us blind.

    The wisdom has reached us; the fact is that the deeds resulting from it are still dreamed of.

Poetry

Whispering deserter

Submitted by Jaia Papitz on Mon, 2012-04-16 00:44

Last night I deserted the war that was waged between

the entities

were left in the trenches they owned

and still demanding the title

I rolled under grass, into the meadows

where the ships were resting sideways, onto the corn and the wheat and the unsown

wreckage was becoming ahead of plain view

gun barrels filled, emptied into shouting chests

I rested, ostrich like

deaf and mute, blinded

I felt only the mud dirtying my sole.

The Good Days

Submitted by Chews Pyders on Sun, 2012-03-18 22:25

Today’s a happier day, it’s brighter
Don’t mind the rapier’s sway, don’t fight ‘er

I get up, I go out, I get it done
I do this, I do that, I do one

The day – it just calls for things simpler
It may yield to a less sick liver

My foot’s aloft, my chin is held high
Who needs Zoloft, I feel like a pie

Tomorrow, who knows, may be different
I will face my foes, be belligerent

No rhyme, no refrain, won’t be oh so terse
I’ll be one again with the universe

And to bed again, and again a new day dawns
Maybe to life bane, but again you show your brawns

Brother says it is not easy, this has never been the case
Bring it – hell, she was so breezy – and behold the lovely face

Living is akin to bookmaking, make no mistake
Readying for the undertaking, your odds you shape

And life doesn’t stop -- the show must go on
You do the be-bop, your best suit you don

Prose

  • A town close to nowhere

    Submitted by Jaia Papitz on Wed, 2009-06-17 04:29

    A town close to nowhere. From above everything seems close to nowhere. The steps, the dreams and hopes, the bus station or the bus itself seem to take us nowhere. The Globe itself seems to spin with a ferocious redundancy in a vicious cycle.

    *

             I know that I diminished considerably my chances to get your phone number, my beautiful stranger and drink companion, but maybe another drink would keep you glued to the stool as I slowly slip into an amorphous presence. I wish you were married, ugly, fat and a little bit more disgusting than I could ever describe so I could punish my impertinentcies by inviting you to a motel and kissing that repulsiveness over and over; and I would do that as a great lover, greater than Romeo and with more passion and loyalty than Don Juan was ever able to show; I’m very aware that the general concept about Don Juan is everything but loyalty. If our ephemeral encounter will permit, I shall develop further the Don Juan social hysteria. Anyway, once in a while I get masochistic and I tend to reprimand my antisocial behaviors with disgusting images; for balance’s sake.

Blogs

  • I spread my wings and the horizon grows (my thoughts)

    Submitted by Night Shadow on Fri, 2010-05-14 15:44

    I step out of my shell further.  As time passes , sometimes fleeting glimpses and sometimes so slowly,  but I know I am still moving.  Obstacles laid before me, ever towering, ever growing.  Just waiting for me to crumble.   Waiting for  that plunge into the abyss in which light shall not escape as if I myself were being swept into a black hole.  So far I have fallen, But now..... Now I began to rise.  I ascend slowly , yet surely .   A breath of fresh air.   Something inside me has deeply awakened.  I feel it now.  It gives me lift.  When once I saw blackness , now light congeals rays of color seeming so solid, I can reach out and touch them.  And I know now, this is it .... My LIFE,  My voice,  too long had I let it become silenced , but I have allowed my mind to wander and what I am finding is that there are no limitations except those which I hinder unto myself.   I have come to realize I have wings, not in the sense of actual wings, no something more grand then that.  And yes there are things more grand.