faiz-o-vision blog is officially closed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QngHKzWn-6Q
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Friday, January 9, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
free to roam
On a winter evening that won't bloom
when movement lingers across the bridge
in a shelter deserted by wind
outside a place that lingers in your chest
anchored by your body
you see as far as the seas
and as you take the world with you back to shore
alone you'll be no more
free to Rome, and east across this Aegean man
On a winter evening that won't bloom
when movement lingers across the bridge
in a shelter deserted by wind
outside a place that lingers in your chest
anchored by your body
you see as far as the seas
and as you take the world with you back to shore
alone you'll be no more
free to Rome, and east across this Aegean man
Thursday, January 1, 2009
On the first of january
I only wish i had given her what she wanted.
but this time
there are many more nights to come
the sun hasn't set
and i can't foresee
that it should
anytime soon
I thought perhaps she would have held me close to her forever
but instead so far i've gotten more
what to do with these millions
i bathe in riches
and what have i done to deserve it?
i hope not to find out for some time to come
I only wish i had given her what she wanted.
but this time
there are many more nights to come
the sun hasn't set
and i can't foresee
that it should
anytime soon
I thought perhaps she would have held me close to her forever
but instead so far i've gotten more
what to do with these millions
i bathe in riches
and what have i done to deserve it?
i hope not to find out for some time to come
Sunday, December 28, 2008
It seems to come just so naturally to her
a whirlwind passes through her like over a pretty prairie meadow
no clumps and dead ends between buildings
and tremendous wastelands,
no maddening boundaries forcing the eye to see further than it was ever intended to.
never a sewer to sap the energy and drain the muck.
altogether and one whole thought,
molded in such a beautiful wavy and deep rhythmic flow of sound enveloped in sweet forgiving air..
without even the purpose to heal those of us fortunate enough to receive its nostalgic currents here in the city.
a whirlwind passes through her like over a pretty prairie meadow
no clumps and dead ends between buildings
and tremendous wastelands,
no maddening boundaries forcing the eye to see further than it was ever intended to.
never a sewer to sap the energy and drain the muck.
altogether and one whole thought,
molded in such a beautiful wavy and deep rhythmic flow of sound enveloped in sweet forgiving air..
without even the purpose to heal those of us fortunate enough to receive its nostalgic currents here in the city.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
De beneficis
Forget what you know
you think you know
And what you know you know
or at least think
be nothing
which wants
sit down beside me,
see nothing
of the rolling hill or the tree here
silent over the warm evening
let your mouth release you
i am on guard
and so is our tree
exhale your remembrance
there is no country
what you have built is yours to keep
or yours to give
Forget what you know
you think you know
And what you know you know
or at least think
be nothing
which wants
sit down beside me,
see nothing
of the rolling hill or the tree here
silent over the warm evening
let your mouth release you
i am on guard
and so is our tree
exhale your remembrance
there is no country
what you have built is yours to keep
or yours to give
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Authority, the subject, and humanity
or
You me and the family
I have not forgotten my family. They are my past. They are more, I concur. But they are my past, and I am but me.
I can care for them while looking to be them in some way as they see me. But they can't, for they are more than they. And for this divine way of life, I cannot forgo my past.
I have lived enough.
I can bask till I die on the wonders of my life. It was celestial. And 'till I am spent, I will suffer for my nostalgia, for inhaling the sweet smell of memories.
It is for the love I felt I am compelled to re-live that I will do as I do. And see of it what you will. It is something that neither of us can corroborate alone. We are one.
or
You me and the family
I have not forgotten my family. They are my past. They are more, I concur. But they are my past, and I am but me.
I can care for them while looking to be them in some way as they see me. But they can't, for they are more than they. And for this divine way of life, I cannot forgo my past.
I have lived enough.
I can bask till I die on the wonders of my life. It was celestial. And 'till I am spent, I will suffer for my nostalgia, for inhaling the sweet smell of memories.
It is for the love I felt I am compelled to re-live that I will do as I do. And see of it what you will. It is something that neither of us can corroborate alone. We are one.
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