A short story in a hospital.
J. W. Cassandra: Mindig megtalállak: mostanában írt versem tavaszi sétánk atmoszférájának szülötte. És rejtett üznetetet hordoz, ami lehet enigma vagy szimbólum. Ez a vers szorosan ez előző versemhez tartozik. Mind magyarul, mind angolul megosztom. Az illusztráció saját fotóm. (I Will Always Find You, by J. W. Cassandra: my recent poem was born by our spring walk atmosphere. And it hides a secret message, either an enigma, or a symbol. This poem belongs closely to my previous one. I share the poem here both in English and Hungarian. Illustration is my own photo.)
I Will Always Find You, by J. W. Cassandra: my recent poem was born by our spring walk atmosphere. And it hides a secret message, either an enigma, or a symbol. This poem belongs closely to my previous one. I share the poem here both in English and Hungarian. Illustration is my own photo.
J. W. Cassandra: Búvópatak: egyike azon verseimnek, amikkel lemaradtam, és most hozom be a lemaradást itt. Szorosan hozzá tartozik egy másik vers, amit ez után fogok itt megosztani. A szeretet alatt a tiszta szeretetet értem a versben. A költői “én” és “te” általánosan értendő. Bárki lehet ez az “én” és “te”. Mind angolul, mind magyarul megosztom a verset. Illusztráció: saját fotóm, a Gaja-patak, Dunántúl, Magyarország. (Lost River, by J. W. Cassandra: this is one of my poems that I have to make up arrears of work. Closely belongs to it an other poem that I will share here as the next one. I mean pure love in my poem. The poetic “I” and “you” have a general meaning. Anybody may be that “I” and that “you”, as well. I’ll share the poem both in English and in Hungarian. Illustration is my own photo, river Gaja, Transdanubia, Hungary.
Lost River, by J. W. Cassandra: this poem was written earlier, I have to make up arrears of work. This poem belongs closely to the next one that I will share after this one. I mean here pure love. The poetic “I” and “you” have a general meaning. Anybody may be that “I” and that “you”, as well. I’ll share the poem both in English and in Hungarian. Illustration is my own photo, river Gaja, Transdanubia, Hungary.
because when I talk you hear my voice not my words not my feelings not the emotion behind you hear my voice and the words you want to hear for that I feel ignored but…
You are like my constant intake of excess sugar one step on my way to diabetes, and yet I can’t help the way my body reacts to every kiss. Nor can I control the way your lips brush against my neck as you ravenously feast on my breast, and you glide your hands down my thighs only to discover that I’m soaking wet.
I lie when I smile in the daytime to mask my pain because I feel like the world has gone insane and expect, demand even, that I smile to brighten my face, just as how the sun shines to brighten the days.
J. W. Cassandra: Zarándokút a semmibe: Anyámnak. (Pilgrimage to Nothingness, by J. W. Cassandra: to my Mother).
Pilgrimage to Nothingness, by J. W. Cassandra: to my Mother.
Without sacredness in the emptiness of this world of ours, the heart of man fades like a flower.
Remember, my child, gods and demons, ghosts and elves are fragments of one, built by the hand of the abyss.
You are inside me and I am inside you and we will compose again a humanity committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man.
Yet for the children of world only one equation counts: their shared humanity.
Ever sat on the side of Lake or beach pondering the questions yet unanswered? Here’s my experience.
