A parrot

Oh, what a parrot I turned out to be,
And you – another parrot, with me, all along.

A mirror for my self reflecting words
To help you wind your self projecting mind.

And how I wept for, ‘how I dreamed of
Your wretched feathers made of blue and lime
Sublime under the morning dew
And five feet under – this ol’ stone adorning.

Oh, dear, dear, what a parrot!
How subtly blunt were all my gestures
And utterances of love and hanging-

The wide horizon that’s presenting
A cool glass with a friendly poison!

A crystal tree
In clear water
To make a nest for wonder bird
And stop those dreams that sought her.

Sonnet of the cat and the miracle

(found among the intimate records of Lady Mittenice, after a long and devilishly inciting search)

A silver cat made her way in
My bed sheets filled with restless sleep -
As deep and lank as she could creep
To reach the world, under my skin.

And for each moment in her grip
The world itself went rushing by
And, though so far, it seemed to lie
As close as but a single leap.

My lips went numb and in their nest,
A scent of oranges and rum
Slipped lean under my tongue, a drum
To fill the longing in my breast.

And for a second, perhaps a bit longer than most other seconds in my life, I was -

The Cosmos, in her habitat,
With nothing but a silver cat.

And I laughed. I woke shivering with fear, of what I had just experienced – but I was laughing. I was nude and the mere understanding of my cosmic nudity that separated me from the rest of the elements in the Universe made me barbarically happy.

Votati!

Variante (temporare) ale acestor interpretari le puteti gasi aici:

• Maxim Vengerov
• David Garett
• Itzhak Perlman

Intre doua “degustari”, va puteti clati urechile cu perle nemuritoare ale clasicului american – – pentru neutralizare deplina a timpanului.

Why, of the Fractals

Why was invented by No. Then it was thrown away, as a failed experiment, and just as it hit the ground, in that fatal instant, No realized he had made a devastating mistake. Why was never supposed to break, because it was unbounded – an infinitely repeatable, unbounded, complex utterance. Almost, No commented later – a truth in its own.

Why had only one answer in the beginning, but as it split into more Why-s than our mind can conceive – the answers began to exhaust, gradually, our words, languages, gestures, question marks and even our ability to ignore them.

Eventually, we surrendered and made Why a noble among us, Sir Why, of the Fractals. We gave Why a part of our lives, our mathematics and a corner of nature to play with. One would comment that we had done the same with No and here’s what happened. But No was not unbounded, like Why. You square No and add another No – you get negation and a bad mood. You do the same with Why …

… and you link your mind with the Universe, to the brink of sinking in your pillow, with the night screaming in your hand and the land shaking and the lake freezing outside the window and your eyes aglow and your eyes shut and a gut feeling that eveything’s right and white electrons rushing through your spine, and red wine and warm skin and all the words within.

And every Why is identical to that initial Why invented by No. Can you believe that? What a lucky bastard…

Following Miss Dreamy’s trail

Leftenent Wanderson, Neverland Yard: Do you mind if I take notes on this interview, Madam?
Lady Mittenice: Not at all, dearie. Where did you say you came from, again?
LW: The Capital, Madam. I’ve recently become a Leftenent of the N’land Yard. As I’ve told you, we are investigating a fairy person we have called Miss Dreamy.
LM: Is that her nickname?
LW: It is a given name to a certain extent, as several unrelated witnesses called her that – but we are at this point unsure wether or not she has introduced herself to any of them, in any form.
LM: I couldn’t help but notice that you are quite far from home, dearie. Is it your habit at the Yard to chase your suspects this far?
LW: Like hounds, Madam. But in al fairness, Miss Dreamy is not exactly a suspect, mainly because there is no crime committed.
LM: Then what is the nature of your interest in her?
LW: Um… you may want to regard the N’land Yard less as an agency of law enforcement and more as an organization of historians. Dreams are constructed from memories and the latter need order, fairness and peace. Miss Dreamy has been a constant source of disturbance, chaos and a cause of war for many dreamers lately- which may not constitute a crime of course, but certainly a reason for a thorough investigation. We are not meant to arrest someone though, merely to memorize the events which took place, in their right order.
LM: I understand. I’ll have to accompany you to my study, Leftenent dearie. There are certain items you need to see.

Istoria se repeta?

Discutia incepe cu profesorul Hari Seldon si psihoistoria. Inainte de toate, as vrea sa fie clar ca eu admit posibilitatea ca o persoana sa ghiceasca viitorul. Insa cu toata incapatanarea pretind ca termenul corect trebuie sa fie (si sa ramana) “a ghici”. Sa presupunem ca ii propun cuiva urmatorul experiment: “In fiecare zi la ora 12 eu dau cu banul; din momentul in care amandoi am vazut daca a iesit cap sau coada, ai 24 de ore sa-mi spui ce va iesi maine.” Distributia normala de probabilitate este desigur 50% rata de succes la ghicire. Cu toate acestea, as pune pariu ca ea e in majoritatea cazurilor neuniforma – in speta ca sunt oameni mai ghinionisti si altii mai norocosi; sau oameni mai clarvazatori dupa ora 8, sau altii care gresesc mereu daca sunt nemancati. Nu stiu care sunt factorii, insa ce stiu cu siguranta e ca foarte putine fenomene din natura au distributii de probabilitate uniforme. Prin urmare, si in cazul ghicirii unei succesiuni de evenimente oarecare, e mereu posibil sa existe noroc chior si, pe masura, ghinion.

A metallic taste of addiction

a deviant, delirious discourse on paths and randomness, or how to listen to the certain sound a mitten does on the frosty window of the balcony, in 1902

Glory, the grinding history amended
By a rope and a mouse in memory!

- there, she uttered, falling.

And the air raged by
Like the atmosphere around the storm.

She shrieked her victory
Sleepless and worn,
Her torn face matching
The wounds on her world.

Glory, for each rock
The wretch felt warm on her harmed feet!
Each atom in the sand,
The heavy fluid of her essence,
The taste of life inside her, on my tongue.

Her eyes shut deep in memory blue.
1902 came by and went-
The spent time of a drop of scent
Blushed in the wake of coming true.

Pretul salvarii unui om

Ieri la radio, o discutie comuna cu ascultatorii. La un moment dat, unul dintre comentatori a afirmat, intr-un mod cat se poate de stereotip – si de altfel aprobat calduros de toti ceilalti participanti la discutie – ca nu se poate pune un pret pentru salvarea unui om, cu alte cuvinte ca trebuie facut absolut orice pentru acel scop.

Mie mi-a atras atentia aceasta afirmatie, desi o mai auzisem inainte – in ideea ca ceva mi se parea ca nu se potriveste. Desigur, e o initiativa (sau o fraza) nobila. Cu care insa, dupa o scurta prelucrare, am constatat ca nu pot fi de acord.

In realitate, pretul salvarii unui om anume este egal cu cel mai mic pret ce trebuie platit pentru a salva oricare dintre oamenii ce au nevoie sa fie salvati.

Pacatul

Voi starni un cuib de viespi fara doar si poate, insa se poate spune ca ma mananca pielea, mai ales pentru o paruiala intelectuala de curtea scolii, ori de coltul strazii, primavara – in speta vremea cand inca nu se instalasera tabu-urile si plictiseala (mai degraba decat teama) de a le desfiinta.

Tema discutiei este pacatul, sau mai exact ce te face sa ajungi in Rai si ce te face sa ajungi in Iad. Sunt desigur subiectiv, crestin fiind (si in general vom incerca sa ramanem in aceasta arie dogmatica), insa nu voi refuza sub nici o forma un argument ce tine de alte religii sau coduri morale – si ma astept la aceeasi atitudine de la interlocutori.

The Rapture Doctrine

Note: please treat this as a natural, albeit late extension of the D-Paladin Doctrine. There are few such simple and elegant principles, who many times govern our lives and make them spectacular, even if as many as one or two people get to observe it and even those so rarely understand what lies beneath.

The Infinity principle – Life, as the sequence of events between birth and passing, is infinite.

Neverland Yard Investigations – The case of the lovely Miss Dreamy (3)

Fairy Policewoman Wanderson: Time of examination 37:03, full moon, January, chapter 5, East Dreamland Time. The defendant’s lawyer is present and acknowledges all legal conditions to have been met, so as to be able to proceed …
Solicitor Horatio M.U. Clyde-Kevary: Huh? Oh yes, yes… No, wait!
FPW: Yes, Mr. Horatio?
Solicitor Horatio M.U. Clyde-Kevary: Um… are you sure my client is of enough height to be held legally responsible?
FPW: Your client is a dwarf, Mr. Horatio – and his height was considered sufficient to serve in the army, as his record shows.
Solicitor Horatio M.U. Clyde-Kevary: Right. Still: are you absolutely sure – I mean, being short should present a considerable legal advantage … ?
Mungo: You’re fired.

Cauciucul si alte suferinte ale memoriei

Ce face o groapa “great”? Ce o face sa fie o groapa intre gropi, un model si o inspiratie pentru celelalte gropi? Miss Groapa, President Groapa, Za One, Zi Only, I give you MR. GROAPAAAA! Ce face o groapa sa ajunga la Tonight’s Show sau macar la Stirile de la ora 5? (Pentru inceput, va asigur ca nu astea erau intrebarile pe care mi le puneam ieri, dupa ce trecusem plin de fiori “Neil Armstrong” printr-un crater de pe soseaua Pantelimon si incepusem sa simt cum volanul trage dreapta).

A gift from Mr. Twister (and his freshly shaved Jack Russel sidekick, Lick)

Just you wait, Mr. Twister, just you wait!
-she said, like fate, one bitter day, in anger.

And Mr. Twister waited long, long time,
Creating letters, after x and y
But just before the fatal z.

With red and scarlet variations -
Sweet letters “why” and “sex”
And decks of cards and rhye
To walk through, when the summer’s ripe,
And berries grow from her sweet hands.

The science of not changing

Definition [entity]: A form of existence which is conceiveable and has four essential properties: limitedness, nature, abstractness and observability. (e.g. a rock is an entity which is limited in space and time, physical in nature, concrete and observable, whereas a word is non-physical, but it is limited, concrete and observable, a theory is abstract and non physical, while still being limited and observable; one would have to go into the mystical field to find some entity which is unlimited, abstract, non-observable and non-physical – the soul can be assumed to be such an entity).

Mr. Jiminy writes a poem

I *cricket* you! A brittle
Little piece of life
Over unending strife – with bliss,
Velvet and fairy dust to spread
Ever so red, ever so merry.
You’ve seen me yet, my *cricket*?
Out and above, a dove, or maybe
Under your heart, a secret place?

Mieunatul ratiunii ontologice

Un fir de blana motana
Intre est si vest -
Ce-i poate face el Cosmosului?

un Haiku de pisica Fu

Parul tau ma inteapa

Parul tau ma inteapa! – ca sensul unei sageti, intr-o lume de apa. Si eu -

Ma visez o mare de suras
Cat sa incapa in tine,
Cu valuri pline
Cu spuma de zaruri.

Pentru ca, sa fim intelesi – de-aici nu mai iesi. Esti un Univers intr-un Univers si eu sunt un vers dupa un vers si ma consideram ceva! Si-acum, din vina ta –

Ma visez o furtuna de doruri
Si gusturi incurcate
Pe brate-amestecate
Slugarnice si hoate.

Parul tau ascutit urzeste umezeala si intuneric. Este cald si nehotarat ca un milion de lumanari. Este lingusitor si timid ca pielea mea, cerandu-mi fericirea. Este egoist, ca sufletul meu, daruindu-ma pe ascuns.

Oh, really? :D

Neverland Yard Investigations – The case of the lovely Miss Dreamy (2)

The account of a bear, related to the acts of selflessness manifested by Miss Dreamy on a stormy night, in the valley.

Fairy Policewoman Wanderson: Good morning Sir. I’m afraid that couch is the best we can offer you. We didn’t expect to interview bears when we set up this field office – no offence meant.
Bear: None taken, Madam. I hadn’t expected to be involved in N’land Yard Investigations either.
FPW: Could you present yourself?
B: Theodore Mark MCIX, or Teddy Bear, as my common nickname.

Despre Creatie. Ghidul incepatorului

Iei o perna moale, desenezi pe ea Universul si apoi te culci, dupa care o imparti sau o daruiesti si atunci, pentru prima data se produce miscare, si numesti acea miscare Cosmos – dupa care construiesti inima, faramitand un os de ros pe care il arunca uneori Cosmosul, si extragandu-i maduva, despre care Cosmosul nu trebuie sa stie nimic – in fine, maturi praful cosmic si astepti sa se auda un zumzait din inima, pe care il asculti atent si il memorezi si dupa el faci o bratara, ca sa poti lega fiinta Cosmica de ea insasi si iar astepti pana cand se infatiseaza, se umbreste, se vopseste, se daruie si se ia inapoi – si in acel moment exista in lume asa: tu, perna si Cosmosul (purtand doar o bratara) si daca ma intrebi pe mine este absolut suficient, ba chiar ai putea spune ca tu si Cosmosul sunteti doua piese dintr-o ghicitoare mecanica, potrivite cu maiestrie dinainte, desi e greu de crezut ca cineva atat de maiastru ar fi uitat sa va dea fiecaruia cheia de la mecanismul celuilalt, ori macar de la propriul mecanism, si la urma urmei, odata Creatia incheiata, privesti desenul de pe perna, privesti desenul din palmele tale si calculezi cat timp ai la dispozitie pentru a dezlega ghicitoarea mecanica sau pentru a o forma la loc, din tine si Cosmos, si de cele mai multe ori gresesti initial si te corectezi pe urma, pentru ca atunci cand adormi si apoi te trezesti, desenul de pe perna se schimba si ai impresia ca tot Universul s-a schimbat, dar nu iti dai seama (pentru ca nu ai cum sa-ti dai seama) ca fiecare somn, cu vis sau fara vis, te face sa privesti din alta parte desenul, atunci cand se face lumina – totusi, cu putin noroc si suficient timp, observi trei lucruri constante, anume viteza luminii, dimensiunea sufletului si dragostea – pe care de fapt le poti foarte bine considera infinite, chiar daca nu le poti masura si oricum nu ti-ar fi de nici un folos, fiindca in cele din urma microscopul te-ar saruta, telescopul ti-ar trimite flori cu bilete anonime de amor si pana si cometa la care privesti te-ar visa imbratisat si legat de pamant cu bratele Cosmosului – si daca ajungi in acest punct Creatia poate trai singura si din acel moment, in lume exista doar perna si Creatia, pentru ca tu i-ai spus ce trebuia sa-i spui Cosmosului si asta a fost.

Timpul s-a oprit. S-a facut infinit. S-a facut tot.

Letters to the Countess (3) – The Scenario

Dear Countess,

My old friend Cyrano will be kind enough to run you a message detailing where my scenario starts. But this is how I imagined it:

It is dark and a slow, cold rain outside. A woman closes the door to the tall apartment building and sees a pair of headlights flashing, a few meters away. The camera zooms out somewhere very high, and the gray car is highlighed in an aura. The sound of a fast beating heart can be distinctly heard. The picture goes into slow motion and follows a drop of rain, going slowly down, moved by the wind – at some point it splits into two different drops and the screen splits into three parts: to the left and to the right, the two half drops of rain and in the middle, a crow’s nest view on the woman and the man, closing to each other. They kiss and exactly then the two half drops of rain hit the man and the woman and make a path on their faces until they merge again. Fade to black while he says “I missed you” and the sound of the rain fades down abruptly.

I’m afraid that’s all I can say without spoiling a few surprises.

Yours, as always,

Baron

The binary nature of Mr. Twister (and his Jack Russel sideckick, Lick)

When Mr. Twister came, the storm
Was setting your mind aglow
A quarter “Yes”, a quarter “No”
A quarter “Maybe” and then some.

The many fancies kept at bay
For days and nights, all in a row
Made Lick, the dog, the happy sideckick, sad
And put the ocean on his tail
As heavy as a widow’s wail.

The Countess, hypothetically answering (2)

(in the rendition of a rather euphoric flower girl, with daisies and a salad leaf mixed in her hair, and some brandy mixed in her speech)

- ‘Ello, gov’ner! Oy been sent by that fancy lady Coun’tess at the lake estate, oy was – she says to give ya this bottle o’wine to drink to ‘er ‘elth. Um, yeah, and she drank this ‘alf.. and another pint more… to yer ‘elth, she did. She said to tell ya this, so you don’t get the idea that I ‘ad anythin’ to do with drinkin’ it.

Letters to the Countess (2)

Dear Countess,

The human concept says “Happy birthday!”. So do I, because I have been dreaming of doing so with a hug, lately. How ontologically absurd! – you will say.

Oddly enough, I still have that dream. Apart from having it surgically removed, I have not yet found a theoretical solution for it – and you can trust me when I say that it is becoming quite a predicament.

Al treilea inel cosmic

- scurta prelegere stiintifica absurda. daca te prinzi, esti absurda; daca nu te prinzi, astepti, apoi deschizi parasuta si te relaxezi. iti urez aterizare placuta pe planeta Venus. nu uita sa-mi scrii. -

Al treilea inel cosmic exista in virtutea rationamentului ca, daca se stie cu certitudine ca Doamna Cosmos are doar doua inele, cu siguranta nu poate avea mai mult de trei. Cat despre directia, forma si starea psihica a celui de-al treilea inel, astronomii nu pot decat specula, ca de altfel si alchimistii si arbitrii de fotbal.