{"id":12614,"date":"2019-05-25T07:35:01","date_gmt":"2019-05-25T05:35:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12614"},"modified":"2019-06-15T09:10:58","modified_gmt":"2019-06-15T07:10:58","slug":"poems-by-cynthia-balea","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12614","title":{"rendered":"poems by Cynthia Balea"},"content":{"rendered":"

[debut]<\/span><\/p>\n

THEMigod<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Thrown away<\/p>\n

Thrown away in a mold of unattainable aspirations<\/p>\n

And left there<\/p>\n

Rotting \u2013<\/p>\n

Decomposing gruesomely as nonfulfillment putrefies my brain<\/p>\n

And I am<\/p>\n

Choking on piles of dirt penetrating my asthmatic lungs,<\/p>\n

Leaving me breathless.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Earthworms are dwelling under my decaying flesh now,<\/p>\n

Feeding themselves with the last bits of glimmering hope<\/p>\n

Coating my disintegrated organs.<\/p>\n

Blood vessels once pumping with sanguinity and<\/p>\n

Desires that were yet to come into existence<\/p>\n

Are coagulated \u2013 darkened vermilion as thick as their lusty hands<\/p>\n

Tearing my ideals apart, excoriating my creed<\/p>\n

And clouding my vision.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Goodness, what have they not done?<\/p>\n

Shoveled my grave and ripped me into fragments<\/p>\n

On which they spit their foul curse astray<\/p>\n

To feed my relics to the underworld<\/p>\n

Or<\/p>\n

Feed its decadence to me \u2013 yet they know mercy.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

There is no possibility of ascension<\/p>\n

Once the intellect is rooted in barren soil,<\/p>\n

The sockets are mudded with prohibition,<\/p>\n

The limbs lethargic,<\/p>\n

Although the core is throbbing<\/p>\n

And throbbing<\/p>\n

And throbbing frantically<\/p>\n

On their plate<\/p>\n

Until they thrust their knives in it,<\/p>\n

Amazed by its vivacity,<\/p>\n

Wondering how come it stayed preserved this long,<\/p>\n

But find no answer, for the primordial haste is looming<\/p>\n

And upon tasting incorporeal emotion,<\/p>\n

The ALTERity is blooming.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You left me foaming<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My love for you, a bottomless ocean<\/p>\n

Of ethereal hopes sunk beneath the blue,<\/p>\n

A valse sentimentale <\/em>in slow motion<\/p>\n

Of Turritopsis Dohrnii, cerulean of hue.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I watched you swinging from a tide,<\/p>\n

With gracious wings you touched the firmament.<\/p>\n

I vulnerably witnessed how waves collide,<\/p>\n

A pelagic bird in perpetual movement.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Across the seas of time you fled,<\/p>\n

Gliding through the welkin,<\/p>\n

A celestial entity to embed<\/p>\n

The mimesis of a human being.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I dived not knowing how to float<\/p>\n

And drowned in shades of azure\u2026<\/p>\n

I am still aching for a lifeboat<\/p>\n

To stream me to my eternal treasure.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A children\u2019s play<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I wish I could have stayed more,<\/p>\n

Wrapped you in my embrace for as long as you needed<\/p>\n

To be assembled back.<\/p>\n

In a similar manner I used to repeatedly stick together<\/p>\n

The pieces of the puzzle I adored<\/p>\n

In my infancy,<\/p>\n

Yet I was the one who disassembled it<\/p>\n

Just as eagerly,<\/p>\n

For I had to exercise my handiness,<\/p>\n

Spare me of my loneliness<\/p>\n

Or just get a temporary feeling of completion<\/p>\n

Without even fulfilling my ambition\u2026<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I wish I could have tamed patience,<\/p>\n

Make it my loyal companion<\/p>\n

To aid me in the quickest of times<\/p>\n

Of which I was not even aware<\/p>\n

Nor prepared,<\/p>\n

When my childhood was measured in fragments repaired.<\/p>\n

I reached for patience slowly,<\/p>\n

But it fled away from me\u2026<\/p>\n

And so did years summed up to fitting pieces<\/p>\n

Of a puzzle I was not even fond of any longer,<\/p>\n

A puzzle I already learnt by heart,<\/p>\n

A puzzle that was tearing me apart.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I repeated this cycle so often that, one day,<\/p>\n

I ran out of time,<\/p>\n

Parts of the puzzle were still disassembled<\/p>\n

And so were you, scattered in hundreds of remnants,<\/p>\n

Awaiting my return and<\/p>\n

Hoping you would be hole again.<\/p>\n

But I grew out of my ambition to reconstruct<\/p>\n

A mosaic so predisposed to reversibility,<\/p>\n

A mosaic that enticed me<\/p>\n

Temporarily,<\/p>\n

Or I grew tired of it, eventually.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What could be so intricate<\/p>\n

When it comes to a puzzle for ages 7-9?<\/p>\n

The value of time \u2013<\/p>\n

I wish I could have stayed more<\/p>\n

So I would assemble you one last time,<\/p>\n

But it passed me by\u2026<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You were to be made<\/p>\n

Endlessly \u2013<\/p>\n

A living mystery,<\/p>\n

An everlasting tedium to me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Delusive illustriousness<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Farewell, my better half, yet my antagonist!<\/p>\n

Why did you have to vanish so quickly and become one with the mist?<\/p>\n

A fog so suffocating, ubiquitously spread,<\/p>\n

That has been crumbling graveyard statues, awakening the dead.<\/p>\n

If only my long-forgotten hopes revived anew\u2026<\/p>\n

I seldom wonder how it is like to be among the few<\/p>\n

Who depart themselves from the rest<\/p>\n

With a slight pain in their chest,<\/p>\n

Looking forward to building their very own nest<\/p>\n

Out of shattered marble, ashes and self-interest.<\/p>\n

Posing this question to myself, I keep hesitating,<\/p>\n

Frustratingly clenching my fists, although pretending<\/p>\n

That the choice I have made out of necessity will reduce the pain<\/p>\n

Of delving delusively into aspirations I cannot attain.<\/p>\n

Should I still wander in search of dismantled almosts<\/p>\n

Or sail optimistically towards another coast?<\/p>\n

A decade has passed in the blink of an eye<\/p>\n

And the prophecy of my destiny proved to be complete fabrication,<\/p>\n

Even if I am aware that this feeling of deprivation<\/p>\n

Is far from being involuntary, for what I have lacked throughout my entire existence<\/p>\n

Was persistence –<\/p>\n

An inability to voice my desolation<\/p>\n

And I shall be eternally sentenced to damnation.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Translucency<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I am walking the corridors of my own mind<\/p>\n

And they are decorated with frameless portraits<\/p>\n

I cautiously hanged a long time now.<\/p>\n

I absent-mindedly became a collector of fragile figures<\/p>\n

Who secluded themselves behind thick glass<\/p>\n

Like expressionless porcelain puppets,<\/p>\n

Decorative pieces to enhance the beauty of one\u2019s \u201cliving\u201d room,<\/p>\n

Yet there was nothing lively about them, nothing vivid<\/p>\n

Whilst being cloistered in vitrine.<\/p>\n

I wanted them to show emotion<\/p>\n

So I shattered the glass<\/p>\n

And upon desecrating their altars of placidity<\/p>\n

They molded into shapes of despair<\/p>\n

Fuming with anger as their opacity was fading away.<\/p>\n

I made myself a gallery of evocative portraits<\/p>\n

Without confining them in frames and glass<\/p>\n

For their histrionic displays of temper were so veridical<\/p>\n

That they deserved pellucid exposure.<\/p>\n

As a collector, when being purposely asked by an individual<\/p>\n

What the way I see him is, I smirk,<\/p>\n

Guiding him to my three-dimensional exhibition<\/p>\n

And whispering \u201cYou will find your honest portrayal here.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[debut] THEMigod   Thrown away Thrown away in a mold of unattainable aspirations And left there Rotting \u2013 Decomposing gruesomely as nonfulfillment putrefies my brain And I am<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1381,77],"tags":[1388,1310,1383,1123],"class_list":["post-12614","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-58","category-english","tag-cynthia-balea","tag-debut","tag-egophobia-58","tag-english"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3hs","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12614","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12614"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12614\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12615,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12614\/revisions\/12615"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12614"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12614"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12614"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}