11 months of happiness
one September morning
as your mighty puffiness was colliding with the sun
our grim-candy tail of forgetting
has suddenly begun
you made jelly trees tremble
and ice-cream melt in my arms
when you implied with one drooling
that a wormhole was none

on October nights i fed you with lights
and prickly sights
and each four a.m.
you were howling "i am!"
to the mist and the sniffy bliss
of the empty yards that made my mind miss yours.
but each time you were inspecting the dark
you were turning into a question-mark
that i used to cuddle to sleep

come November
rains made you remember
the tea etiquette and how to be my pet
we so counted raindrops
and told tall tales of sugar pops.
you confessed that for Christmas
you’ll wish for a trampoline
and maybe ditch your sister
so you wouldn’t have to share me.
December was for flying
to not so distant lands
and bitching and whining on life’s lamest threats.
you so carried my griefs
forgave the abandonment,
lies and disbelieves,
stood by my side just like best friends do,
maybe released just one sight
cause i forgot to say how much i love you.
grumpgarian liege,
should you feel other mutts besiege
thy holy birth celebration
with unsolicited presents and clumsy duets,
just snore towards me.
i’ll unclutter the street,
rearrange the world at your feet,
wrap your strong shoulders in the finest fake furs
feed you peanut butter candy
and sing happy birthday in purrs.
all thought don’t piss the carpet
in the happiness blur.
may February
always be Steakuary
so you i can find you in the yummy heat
and your appetite for living
could never be beat.
of course you loved carrots
and fresh sprouts and apples too
but a juicy chicken wing
will make my vegan self say:
“i would kill for you!”
one heavily perfumed March
made pillow cases starch
and through the lack of sleep
we started counting pills instead of sheep.
found new respect for the fear
of you disappearing from My Here.
so i kept baiting you in my arms
with promises of cheese castles and days on the beach
so you’d stop trembling of the smell of bleach.
the name was Dandelion,
for those who knew you best,
because you huffed and puffed them
and gave the fields no rest.
my glorious white humper,
remember the hide and seek
of those days in April?
i thought us so sleek!
misled myself in thinking
we’d trick hunger hoard ghouls
between the snowy perfection
and the days of the fouls.
May-ish sprints and May-ish flings
dawn darlings and dawn sparings.
what is mine can desperately be yours,
just don't make me miss you
like the days of the old.
run with me, bear with me,
row with me, fear with me,
hit with me, just stay with me.
cause some might say that one day,
in the soon to come ovenly scorches,
announcing nothing spectacular
(same traumas and torches),
as i’ll be busy planning fruity plates,
working my mind off lines and templates,
will not notice nor will i be around
one invisible IT set on dragging my soul to the ground.
and they also murmur that come trembling that day
famished IT will be and carry you away.
mathematically speaking, Junes
are made of candy colored balloons
and divided in a tonal scheme
of crispy waves on the skin,
they amount to infinite sea shores
plus holidays away from the nihilist rim.
so let's drain lists from the bucket,
squeeze it to the every last drop
and tell dark premonitions and thoughts:
"come on, naughties, shut your trap!"

- "you're still here"
- "no, i'm not.
the once in a blue moon is approaching, my human",
you whispered one night to me,
with a bit too laid-back intensity,
"i'll welcome it without fright.
i'll slip slowly into the breathless,
the nothingness you'll sure envy me for,
let meagre realities from my tired eyes fall,
my mind will stop banging every few hours
against the white balcony wall."
- “but, baby, that was not the plan,
we were suppose to conquer all lands of art loving men!
you can not leave me here with guts in my throat,
with guilt as my pillow.
i'll be forever weeping like a wounded willow."

the words did not find listening ears
and i watch you disappearing
in that loathing constellation of distress.
little did i know your were about to set a new meaning for
11 months of happiness.


September detail
September detail
November detail
October detail
December detail
January detail
March detail
March detail
April detail
May detail
June detail
3rd day in the month of the ovenly scorches
announced nothing spectacular.
same traumas and torches
i saw through my guarded binocular.
and, as i was busy planning fruity plates,
working my mind off lines and templates,
did not notice nor was i around
the invisible IT about to drag my soul to the ground.
that stale swoosh of air conditioning breeze
came trembling that day
and famished as it was,
IT carried you away.
left me maimed forever
never to love the same way.
11 months of happiness
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11 months of happiness

One august day my dog-friend aka Igor-The-Dandelion-Beast died. The happening cause me to discover that I’m not really good at letting go (or a b Read More
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