Activities of Erwin Maramat

some of the best recollections i curated is that of chaos.


i know you hate it, so i will make you remember.
...

Years' worth in our days swirl in our thoughts of lovely hands clasped in ours with no resolve of ever letting go.

Though the fates and sanguine melancholy conspire to break the bonds nothing can keep this sight from being enthralled
...

Scream! Scream! Scream! The cardinal rule of silence. Scream! The next cardinal rule of silence.
On words aching for a voice, a generous gaze be fixed. Lend a ray of light and shine on shadowed corners where thoughts have cowered. Forsake me not in unsacred matrimony of stagnation and decay, lest, I be not I. For voice not be voice which breaks when it disguise unmasks. Such is life.
Into the fabled lands of golden chance, my car rode my soul, glittered rot and creaking joints, not I, but my ferry for this diaspora unbidden, for one, but one quest—snatch tomorrow from its tree and fill the pockets of whose vines to the roots with whom I share.
For it gives them so much pleasure, to measure worth with what gift is on a hand, failing to see its callused back. Faces neither painted with hardened sweat and spit, nor eyes crafted with sight. Their comfort a measuring stick of whatever weaves the blood. It thickens with the sun and diluted in the cold, worse still, vapid in trying times.
...

When I had my sight on you,
it was as good a currency
I spent on my first dance.
There was an element of reluctance,
...

The birth of the universe started here.
Here at the palm of your hands, when my atoms sat across yours.

Though there is a speculation that the sensation we feel is purely imagined, it adds weight to our existence.
...

Cedar wood house
aching with arthritis
still standing atop a hill,
at me, she blew a kiss,
...

From the swing;
the playground,
when the mind is clear
as honeyed water,
...

I can tell
from the smile draped across
your cheekbones
and your boisterous thought
...

Must have seen you in a field,
the trampled grass your bed,
your eyes fixed on the sky,
and the sky hanging on blooming fire
...

The sun was still cold in your breath,
half-awake still dreaming and we are way past that hour,
just waiting for the first light to break in and steal the dark away like a stereo.
...