Deer in the Headlights

Thanks goes to Ina Branco for the inspiration.

Right to the lightless heart of night I drove:
Not to waste an instant have I had a right.
And as the road lead me through the grove,
A silhouette ahead have caught my sight

It was a doe I saw, young, tall and fair,
All clad in glamour, the forest's rose —
With eyes blinded by my headlight flare,
In tracks directly on my path she froze.

And so did very time then freeze as well,
It came to stand as if it was made to show
Me the glimpse of animal's dire awe in swell
One slice of moment before the blow.

The fawn was standing still, bereft of fear,
In bold acceptance with her tragic lot,
Emotionless, despite death approaching near,
It was not in motion she was caught.

Deer, said I, please make your leave,
You'll stay unscathed if you step away!
Speed's high: an impact won't let you live,
It is too late for car to change its way.

But nothing was my answer, just her eyes
Have closed to show that fate was sealed,
Like if our touch would her award some prize,
For that, the pain would not make her yield.

The time grew bored, reluctant it went on
Foreseenably the contact was brief indeed,
In fearsome maw of doom my doe was thrown,
The car had got nothing but a minor skid.

Involountary hangman, had I then to halt
And seek her out, yet maybe still alive?
My hurry whispered that suicide's not my fault,
I've shed a tear and kept on my drive.

You are my theme for a dream

And thus I have sinned. I fail to keep the distance. You are becoming less and less abstract with each passing hour. You, my beacon of fantasy, you the a priori unreachable dream. With trembling heart I am to witness illusion fuse with fact, the sanity vows for action while the feeling is left paralyzed. Patch by patch, the fairy fleshes, filling the perception gaps and correcting the wrong guesses.

Should I watch the muse succumb to the mortal coil, move on and paint another face on the banner of mine? May it be nobler in the mind if I let the word lose and let the vibrant feeling violently crush against subjectively unfortunate reality? Being a man is all about taking the risks and the responsibility, but how is it even remotely wise to charge headlong into the realm of certain impossibility where all slightest chances have long withered? Yet I dare. Yet I do dare to dream at night. I dream and sincerely I can't help it. Yes, I have sinned.

I will not allow myself backstabbing what little relationship we may still have for no reason. I'm mad, but I ain't no fool. Given a spare world, I just would love to have been in love with you, no matter what future holds for us.

The Philatelist

Some time ago, I visited the house of my grandmother's sisters. It's a century old building with garden, right in the heart of Bila Tserkva city, a standing guardian of old times flanked with newly built modern wannabe-skyscrapers. It's ancient, it have been long falling victim to corrosion. Moreover, one would say, this hut has to be razed at once to give place for the new generation of housing, better ones in any reasonable respect. Yet, in my idealistic eyes, it stands as one beacon of romance, as a memorial to times which came to pass but bore the diversity of feelings which evaded my soul. Times and pictures I never passed through my perception for real, still ones I hunger to experience. This is just a same burst of emotion as when seeing an old castle: the lifeless rocks serve no real purpose anymore but a basis to build an imaginary panorama on.

I have yet so hear this from a professional psychologist, but naïve socionical tests give me a trio of psychotypes: schizoid, hysteroid and sensitive. In simple words, this means that I seek sharp images and impressions in life, but also have an ability to augment them to insane sizes and proportions inside my mind. Must admit, this is not untrue. This is why I have a deep love-hate relationship with vintage photos. Give me one and I will be trapped, sucking the impressions out of it and reconstructing the feelings an observer would have back then while realizing that world being long gone. In fact, any strong picture would do. An infant crowning his deceased bride in an attempt to restore her honour. Two young lovers crossing sights near the sea to declare their mutual feelings. A young emperor claiming the independence of a newly founded state from his own royal bloodline. Interestingly, I would not like to be in their shoes, it's just an overall image and associated feelings I admire. Werd' ich zum Augenblicke sagen: Verweile doch! du bist so schön!. This kind of relationship with reality. Guess I never associate myself with an actor, but much rather a scriptwriter or director. Sometimes I fail to instantiate myself as a living person but not an abstract third person observer. I have a picture on my phone reminding I'm a human. It's silly of me, but the thing works like a charm, effectively being a cold slap right into the mind carried away.

That said, this highlights a dangerous psychological trait in me I should be wary of. Whenever I am set ablaze by any an obsessive idea, what is it as a matter of fact? Is this something I may swear allegiance to or just a mantle I wish to try on for a delicious momentary emotion complex? So far, both options have been happening. Thus, importantly, when I will name her my life companion, it this a true willingness of making an long term bond, or is it just me, thinking a photo of us together would look neat?

Tame the Hummingbird

Well met, newcomer. You came here in the quest of a hummingbird? A perfect choice, an avian tailored of true grace, a little joyful shard of life. But you are, hold on, a human, you claim? Why yes, you big, you prudent, your blue frost of reason against the red warm heat of feeling the bird possesses? Look, lad, your taming may not go as easy as you might have thought.

One thing, apprentice, to keep in mind. To bird, you're alien. Despite the fact you both breathe the very same air and in chests of both does a heart beat — there is a stunning abyss of differences in how you are fit in the world. Her needs neither equal yours nor are ones you may have easily predicted with bare logic. The very sight and thought mechanic varies between you two to such a great extent, that would embarass any the pinnacle of your imagination. Albeit, none is better and I urge you to abandon your game unless you take her as your peer. You came after her, all with your intellect and so-called sentience, still all that weaponry makes you no superior. Since you came after a hummingbird, you are in need in traits of her own. Learn to respect and learn the ways of her, lest simply to employ. Taming is much unlike just binding to your will. When you tame a bird, at the same time you do tame and bend your own self.

Be prepared, apprentice. No matter how much keen or tender you are, you shall fail. If you think you know what care and support are, I verily tell you — be ready to learn it anew. At first, all you'll bring will be unease and irritation, you are intruder, you are foreign, don't you forget that for a fraction of second. Your failures are going to be so numerous that you shall daily question your intentions, you will want to quit the deed for good. In fact, there must be a rock strong reason for the hummingbird to risk her freedom, to reach your hand instead of natural mate. And even in case there is, expect a heap of time to expire before a wall of tension between you two begins to shatter. Stack up patience and confidence is your desire, you shall be bitten, avoided, ignored, scared of. High chances are, you chose a wrong bird: the one that shall always prefer her wilds to your enlightenment. If so, forget, set free and find another. Make sure you never force the bonding, unless, of course, a stuffed hummingbird is your only goal.

And ultimately, should you succeed, a final trial lies before you. All ready, one last step is left, but don't you rush. The very bonding is a point of no return. Afterwards, there shall be no more of you per se, but the dyad only. Hence brace yourself to lose some of yourself before you do attempt to tame a hummingbird.

Like the Sea

Have you never seen the Sea in person? Tonight I am the Sea, pleased to meet you. Just you glance at me, I am vast and deep, what am I is much broader that what your eyes first catch. Within my depth there's place for wonders, for the unseen and unbelievable, it is both luring and warding away at once. The water is able to shapeshift, assuming any form you would ever dream of, depriving nothing out of possibility. However, continue looking over. My surface is but an interlace of myriads of various tiny waves, combining in an unique and everchanging texture. Oscillations are boring, predictable and repetitive you say? Consider this: the simple sines bundled together produce the great variety of music and sound you find engaging, touching, alive and masterpiece. And so am I, and my complexity does give birth to a diversity of faces that you'll never get tired to count. From still to gale, from rounding any roughness on my watery skin to sinking ships with hellish craze, I am diverse, yet I am the one. Why come to me, all that that unstable? You come for I am tender, for I am caring, for I support. Be I in calm or storm, regardless of whether I produce some tiny ripples or the mighty tidal waves — you'll find your peace whence entering my waters at any time. My liquid essence penetrates any clothing and any mask, it takes after you in every a respect, it follows any of your moves but does not remove the freedom of motion. When swimming, I have you embraced, and you are mine and you are safe.

But what do I ask in return? What do I expect from a devoted one? The answer is amazingly simple: trust and fearlessness. Sure, you are free to paddle in the shallows, but there shall be no smooth transition onto the deep water. I require, I demand, I ask, I welcome you to cast away any slightest qualms and make a bold step right away from the solid ground. You may have seen people swim, you may know for sure that salty water will not allow you to sink no matter what you do, still you are hesitating and I do fully acknowledge this. Why would I want a craven in my embrace anyway? Play safe, stay away from the depth, build up courage and confidence, there is no hurry. I may offer my help, advice or anything akin to it, however, nobody is to determine your readiness except for your own very self. One day will you break that quailing coil and may fully enjoy joining my tender waters.