letters from december

 -

I’m not the guy they’d stare at on a train

I don’t go to gym

I don’t lift

I can barely take a cab without throwing up or going broke

I shop for small portions

I stay in

I watch movies on pirated websites

I am quiet

I know I don’t belong in this competition

I don’t follow pop culture

But I’m in love with you

I saw you once 

only once

and I’m in love with you!

-

Your boots on the train

with silly leopard print,

and your coat,

simple, and grey,

your scarf,

with geometric patterns

and your glasses,

with brown frames.

Our lives are too short

to pay attention to each-other.

but paying attention is what

makes them seem longer.

-

ჩემი სახელი ცარცივით თეთრია.

შენს სახელს ლიანდაგების სუნი აქვს.

-

Did I believe in wrong gods all along?

did you care for the right ones?

is that why you can go on living

while I float in Styx?

-

Living with you was a ritual I’ll never stop thinking about. 

and the sacrifice was my anger.

you created space in my mind

and later I found more of it

in my chest. 

-

We liked to sit inside our melancholy lair after Christmas

and watch nights trawl days 

Into the nets of slow procession.

-

Autumn flower wintered into my dry cough

and fever.

-

All my flowers died.

they abandoned my memories of you.

but it was too cold anyways.

-

I know it’s been years,

but you’re still in my mind

and in my heart.

and I’ll always keep you hidden there.

and keep the doors closed. 

-

I always think of us at Christmas.

remember, once you said you only liked Christmas because

it made me happy.

and my kiss was the only gift you cared for.

Well, I was only happy 

because you were here.

now, my smiles are paid for

and my gifts come in boxes. 

-

I am thankful for your strength, 

but angry at your stubbornness.

-

I wish I could make myself into a toy

for the lonely.

but I’m an accessory for the rich.

-

It came with winter

but won’t leave with spring.

regardez-moi, milord.

letters from november

 -

You placed your fears on my arms..

“have them when the morning comes.”

but I was a son of night.

and I ate them in one bite.

-

I heard you wanted to call me

but you never did

and I eventually stopped remembering

our breakfasts.

-

I’ve collected every book you’ve ever mentioned.

did you watch every film I ever loved?

-

I’ve wasted all my Friday evenings,

drinking them away.

and Saturday mornings, 

trying to convince myself of my superiority

over your existence. 

-

The words that existed only into sounds came out of me

and I did not care for their meaning anymore.

-

თეთრი მანძილის ფერია.

-

You said you’d live with me.

I said I’d die with you.

our marriage was wrong from the very end.

-

Put yourself in my shoes.

we wear the same size.

They’re old and sad.

leather has become soggy and wrinkled with rain

• my skin.

They’re too cold

• my character. 

They’re too afraid of you

• my insecurity. 

-

How do you tell someone

that you write letters when you’re too high

when you don’t have anything else to do

when you’re afraid that if you died tomorrow all everyone would remember were your silly videos 

that you call them letters because they don’t really rhyme 

that you’re alone but not lonely

that you’re not cared for and you miss when it was someone else’s job to care for you

that life hasn’t gone the way you wanted it to go to

that you’re started to be a disappointment but you’re also scared that valuing other people’s opinions is becoming too important 

that you go back to your happier days and replay them before sleep

that you miss home but don’t have one anymore 

that your worth is not why you should love yourself

that your imagination about your life hasn’t allowed you to be with others

that you’d be better off if you were born an animal

-

My biography will be called “dogs and fairies”.

-

თვალები, რაღაცნაირი,

ჩამკვდარი რომ აქვთ, 

ხო იცი.

პატარა ბავშვებს კი არა, 

უფრო 40 წლის კაცებს,

ცოლებს და დეიდაშვილებს, 

ძმებს და მამიდებს. 

მტკივნეულია მსგავსი თვალები.

-

Waking up actually feels like falling again.

sleep is where I am me.

put on my lipstick and get away

from the windows.

they’re not high enough anyways.

I am leaving you my pearls.

once worn,

never deserved.

-

My pretend “self-love” wants your attention.

my demanding “self-doubt” needs your hands.

my muscles on my thighs need your lips.

take me with or without my stories,

real or imaginary. 

take. me. back.

-

I picked up cigarettes again.

who’s to stop me?

potential love affairs?

they would never happen anyways.

mother, who knows less about my life

than about her cat’s?

friends who only want funny me?

boys who only want handsome me?

girls who only want sensitive me?

bosses who only want charming me?

who needs rude me?

who’d love sad me?

You’re not here..

-

Every time I pick up a paper and a pan

one phrase only dwindles in my mind - 

“paper planes”.

and it doesn’t matter how much I write it down.

it doesn’t go away.

I don’t know how to make them.

I don’t even want to make them.

I don’t like them.

But they’re stuck in my mind. 

-

Last night I was walking back from the subway,

smoking again

and it was so quiet.

it was like the world had finally stopped and 

stared at me!

at Me!

Me!

And I stared back at it,

or at my reflection in the eyes of the beast - 

a long and grim silhouette of a man

wearing a coat he found on a coat rack;

boots he bought - used and heavy;

sweater - blue and old.

and there had never been a more honest moment in my life.

autumn leaves were carried by the evening wind.

and autumn world was carried by me.

-

My preferred mean of death is by a snake bite. 

a one eyed snake brought me into this world, and a snake should take me out. 

agreeable symmetry it is.

-

I miss taking a train with you.

-

Please don’t notify me when he writes back 

please leave it unanswered.

-

You set me free

but I found another prison.

-

I don’t think I can go through life

reaching to things anymore

I don’t think I am giving up on life

that is beautiful and rich

but with every day that passes, I am.

I know I will never be rich.

And for some people I will probably 

always be poor.

But I have known nothing but worries

while reaching.

And I don’t want to worry anymore.

I just don’t want to be there.

I just want to be here.

-

Trust your senses.

know who you are.

letters from october

 -

I hide many things

because secrecy is most commonly mistaken for

sophistication.

-

I dreamt of blue birds and yellow rats,

of cats as red as strawberries

and dogs, darker than earth.

and that’s because I’ve been rereading tales

from my childhood.

-

I wish I could build things

so people would admire me for my work, 

not my personality.

(Not that anyone admires that,

But it’s the only thing I can show..)

I’m just lonely tonight.

I don’t need to be cuddled

as someone suggested. 

I don’t need hugs.

I don’t really NEED anything. 

But I’d give the world away

for a short conversation with my mom,

somewhere in Paris again, 

on our way to Notre Dame.

-

Tonight I smell of pink salt and black orchids

and my earlobes taste of wet metal.

my eyelids wait for your lips

and I tremble at the memory

of your whispery “night..”

You probably still smell of sunshine and green apples.

There’s no way of knowing it for me anymore. 

-

I’m happy in the mornings

because I don’t know what the day brings. 

I am happy in the evenings

because I know what the day brought.

-

I know you, world.

you’re this living box of magic.

as time goes you open more and more

and you only fucking show what I want to see.

I always wanted the depth, not vastness,

sadness, not air.

and you’ve opened and shown it for me

and now I don’t like it

and please make it all go away.

-

I carry my sadness everywhere I go

because it’s the only place you live now.

-

I wonder what did you tell them.

no one reached out.

everyone who said they liked me and loved me.

no one reached out.

no text.

no call.

no words from anyone.

-

Since when is killing you

not an option.

-

you’re quick to assume I will

keep my promises

after your terrible manners.

-

When I sleep,

alone

my head is still tilted slightly to the left.

I think it is hope that guides my stupid neck.

but you’re never there,

not at night,

never in the morning.

And I still sleep too close to the edge,

an silly odd mechanism to protest me

from your turns and kicks.

letters from september

 -

Place where I really belong -

away.

-

You believed in summer love

and I believed in autumn sadness.

-

- what’s your favorite color?

- ჭრელი.

bufo afterthoughts (october 31)

მშვიდი ვერცხლისფერი

-

ეს თეთრი მგონი ვერცხლისფერია.

ან ვერცხლია თეთრი.

ფრინველები, ბუ მთის და ლაზიერი,

მამაკაცია თეთრი ლაზიერი,

მე ვარ თეთრი ლაზიერი და არასდროს ვიცოდი. 

თურმე ჭადრაკის სასახლეში იმიტომ მიყვარდა სიარული

რომ თეთრი, მარმარილოს ლაზიერი ვიცოდი რომ მე ვიიყავი.

მე ვარ - შევარდენი,

ფრინველი ფართო ფრთებით,

გაფრენილი ისარივით მორკალული.

დავიბადე, კვერცხის ცილა.

ნახვამდის, სეთ!

რაააააააჰ! აქ ხარ?

ღმერთი და ქალღმერთი,

ყველა ერთია.

ქართული წერა არის იეროგლიფები.

ფრინველი

თეთრი ფრინველი

მე ვარ თეთრი ფრინველი,

შევარდენი ანუ რაჰ ანუ დროჰ.

ბევრი წყალი ვსვი,

რძე აღმოჩნდა.

მდინარეში გადავვარდი,

რძე აღმოჩნდა.

ღვინო დავისხი,

რძე აღმოჩნდა.

თევზი ჭამე და ცილა,

სათევზაოდ წახვალ და

ცილას დაიჭერ.

ძველი ცეკვა იყო ეს,

მუცლიდან დაწყებული, 

ჭიპთან, სადაც კვერცხი არის დამარხული,

იქიდან დაიწყო და მერე

თითებიდან გადმოიღვენთა,

როგორც ის ეგვიპტე.

იოგა არის ეგვიპტეში,

ოღონდ მათი, ეს ცეკვა იყო.

ის იქ არის აკლდამაში,

სხვა გყავთ სხეულებრივად.

წადი სახლში.

დაბრუნდი.

ჩამსვეს ამ კალათაში,

ქართველებმა,

ღმერთის რა იციან,

ეშინიან მარტოკა.

ჰოდა ამ კალათაში და მე ვარ კვერცხები.

ჰოდა დიდი ჩიტი აბა ვის გაუგია ისევ კვერცხში იჯდესო.

ავდექი და გამოვძვერი.

ნახვამდის, სეთ!

მშვიდობით იყავ.

წაიღე ეს ბეჭედი, არ მინდა.

ეს ლურჯი ბეჭედი სეთის ყოფილა.

ხელები მოისვი კისერზე,

ყელზე.

დახრჩობა არ გამოგეცადოს ვითომ.

რაჰსე - ჩემი სახელი იყო.

სამკუთხედია და ამიტომ მომწონს ყვავი ბანქოში.

ყოველთვის ხელებს შეხედე ჭერის ფონზე,

ეს არის შენი ნამდვილი ხელები.

ფეხები და ფეხის თითები კი ფრთებია,

ჰელიოსის და ჰერმესის ფრთები.

რიტორიკაში სწერია..

21 Sun salutations every day 

31 ოქტომბერი, 2021