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inger sedat's Blog

{February 13, 2016} once

when there are no pictures to sift through and the dusty old memories are all you`ve got, you let the chords of a guitar vibrate an imagine behind closed eyelids. voices in the song become smooth echoes of long nights with singing and poems and laughter and feeling. memory lane is long and dark and the farther a door is, the faded the image becomes.
i miss you, mister. silence has no more rhythm, notes have scattered on the floor, measures are stuck.
my body is wrapped in a blank musical scale. i sometimes wonder if you could paint back the melody. do you still whistle the tune?

{February 12, 2016} little poem

It`s getting dark in this little heart of mine.

The sun is drowning in a glass of wine.

The stars are little sparks of light.

It`s getting dark; just hold me tight.

{February 12, 2016} cinnamon and a dark night

Ne pictam trupurile in tacere. E frig. Noaptea e inalta. Nu mai atingem stelele cu varfurile genelor.

Nadirul se scufunda lenes in golul claviculelor. Zenitul se pierde in zare, alunecand matasos spre finalul timpului

{September 25, 2015} last century, night was day was night and day again

your scent on the pillows and the bed sheets is gone. worn off. night is yawning, lazy and bored of all the affairs she witnessed in the shades. sun should be coming out soon, but it seems it`s going to be late this morning. streets are grey and quiet. even the autumn sleeps. and i can`t find any shadow of you in the house.
my mind is constantly searching for some rest, my fingertips are constantly searching for the warmth of your body, your skin, your messy dark hair in the late night.
peaceful breath in the early sunshine, the twist of a shy curl over your moving eyelids, hot hands curling my body into the dreams that chase away the shiver, the yesterday, maybe the time itself.i hear the minutes dripping off on the cold floor, seconds scratching the colors off the walls, hours howling at the moon. but i can`t hear what makes me drift off into the dream world: the rhythm of you breathing in your sleep.

{September 25, 2015} fragrance from a honeysuckle

the world has your smell.

the cool evening air sifting through the open window bears memories of distant summer nights. memories of us lying in the whispers of the full moon, in the whispers of our blood running frantic through our veins.

crickets singing in the darkness, underneath the big stars, the only light when the moon is new, the only shimmer in your dark, in my dark dreams.

the smell of cold rain upon the hot city streets, the simmer of the concrete underneath the big rain drops, the tremble in our bodies as we listened to the rain singing on the rooftop of your balcony.

{January 25, 2015} when you wish for it, but don`t want it hard enough (or life in half-note)

you let silence get one second too close…. you call one second too late…. you reach out to touch me one second after the moment vanishes.
you wake up one second after the morning has passed away… you start dreaming one second after my dreams have faded. you hold my hand one second after it got cold.
you look into my eyes one second after i had already closed my eyelids. you love my soul now, but winter came in one second ago.
you wish for it now, but i burnt that second…. just one second before you had wished for it.

{November 25, 2014} life is like a box of chocolates

someone i loved once gave me a box full of darkness. it took me years to understand that this too was a gift – mary oliver
and i dilligently carried that old box with me, heavy on my heart, not being able to open it or to throw it away or to return it. or for that matter to do something with it other than carrying it along, just like a child drags his favorite broken toy for days before letting it go.
well, you never called back, he says a bit disappointed at the other end of the line
i tried… i had things on my mind… there was no time… i do what i always do, seeking excuses because the truth would be too hard to explain.
actually, to be honest, i can`t do it anymore. i can`t sing or play anymore. not since i met him and started loving him.
Hey! you still there? he thinks the signal is poor.
yeah… still here… sorry, got a bit distracted. you were saying?
we didn`t get to make that acoustic night… we were supposed to rehearse a bit after all these years…
oh… right… sure. sorry. let`s have a beer these days and we`ll talk more, ok? He`s one of my oldest friends, he cares. But he can`t see it… the storm circling down deep in my eyes.
Through the crack of my bedroom door i can see my guitar. i should sell it. not for the money, but because i can`t play it anymore. and i can`t sing. or write poems. i should trade my words too. not for money.
i traded one love for another. or so i thought at least. but every single second i think of moving on from my poems and my songs and my love, my soul crunches. just like dead leaves on autumn. and i can`t breathe. this must be some parallel universe, in which i trade dreams for common feelings.
through the cracks in my skin i can see lines of my soul. i hear those nights with whispers and laughters… velvet ribbons around me. i feel wild heartbeats mixing with the heavy rain on rooftops…. body curves slowly in the soft satin of the night. i smell the calm sea under the full moon, breathing in the rythm of love…. the air gets stuck in the lungs, silence breaks the bonds for a few second, words mix inside and get stuck middle way, eyes closed, time runs between hands, hold tight, don`t let go.. clear blue sky in a cold morning, room is warm, silence is bliss.
i`m above the city. city is cold and sleepy. time… time? what does that word mean?

{December 19, 2013} clipa cea repede

Secunda se prelinse incet, incremenita in frigul iernii seci. Secunda cu gust sarat. Secunda cu zgomot surd in tample; secunda fara timp sau fiinta… Secunda cand inima nu bate, cand trupul nu se misca, respiratia ingheata pe geamuri. Secunda in care fluturii din trup devin nisip fin imprastiat in zari. Secunda in care nici macar nu ai realizat ca se intampla ceva. Navalnica si furioasa ca o cascada, iti ingramadeste atomii din corp, ii framanta, ii reorganizeaza, ii zapaceste si ii lasa fara habar de viata din afara.
Secunda cea repede se prelinse fierbinte si sarata peste suflet, in aerul rece si taios al iernii de promoroaca.

{December 18, 2013} i used to be a rainbow [older post]

Read the rest of this entry »

{December 18, 2013} once upon a past lifetime

there’s an echo still hanging from the ceiling in a far away room from deep inside my soul. nobody could understand those half vowels scattered all over the empty hallways. except me.
i know that song.. those words. whispers flowing like silk, undressing mind and body from all known rules, erasing boundaries and galaxies in their way.
stories. old. cold. dusty.
my body aches. my bones are heavy.i have been staring through that frozen window for so long that my eyes can’t even remember how to shed a goddamn tear of sorrow or happiness. my fingertips feel numb. the only noise in the room is made by a mechanical clock.i couldn’t tell exactly its purpose there as all the seconds flew out the window centuries ago, when that song became an echo. i know for sure, i was the one to close all the doors and the windows for what seems now to be forever.
i kept my breath until i chocked on this thick dust and spider webs crawled up my face to close my eyes and drown my dreams.
and yet, somewhere in the corner of an eye, a crumble of a long lost dream got stuck and doesn’t want to fade away…
in the white early morning light, two bodies curled up in the small bed with blue sheets breath together, hearts skipping a beat every time eyes meet. skies are blue… sheets are blue… walls are blue. and it seems like eternal summer for two lost souls that feel as they have lived like this in a past lifetime.
once upon a past lifetime these empty hallways were filled with laughter and songs..
can you hear that echo?

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