SEASON'S GREETINGS

SEASON'S GREETINGS, originally uploaded by arialee miles.

Happy Holiday !!!
I wish great peace of mind and serenity on heart for everyone !

It ain't love

It ain't love, originally uploaded by arialee miles.

25 november
International day against domestic violence on women and gender murder.

It ain't love,
don't tell me
you love me
when regretting
for your insanity
you pray me
to forgive you
every time
with the
same words
every day
with the same
old attitude.
don't tell me
that you can't
live without me
while your fist hits
my face because
you think I can bear
every time
a little more
every time
a little stronger.
Don't call it love
while you put me
in a corner
and in that corner
you leave me
laying on the floor.
It ain't love .

the making of a woman

NOISE

So from the insolence
of your magnificent spring
enlightened by those
apparently eternal rays of sun,
you really  think you can tell me
about  things I have  already lived
or about places where I have  already been
or streets I have  already covered
with the same sense of invincible
omnipotence you are showing me ?
You don’t surprise me,
maybe you saddened me a little
because I allowed you for a moment
the regret of a lost occasion to stay silent.
I won’t tell you the usual,
slightly  envious nasty thing,
that you will hear,
again and again,
during your life,
year after year,
while, already too late,
you will try to swim
against the stream,
arduously, hopelessly
like a stubborn stupid salmon.
That the beauty is ephemeral.
This truth you already know.
Every day you can see it yourself .
You don’t need me telling you this again.
I will tell you another thing  instead,
that one day you will understand,
it won’t be enough anymore, 
and  you will want something else,
much more than that,
something that is not up for sale.
Because for the man
you will choose to support
all his frailties on your shoulder,
not strong enough  for that,
the one you will choose
to protect from the world
soothing its screams with your hands,
sustaining his mind
only with the pureness of your heart,
dissolving his insecurities
with a smile and your touch
dispersing his doubts 
and his  fears with a caress,
holding his hand when he trembles, 
but conceding him the illusion
to be himself with his apparent strength 
to protect you from
the ambushes of life,
keeping you safe.
Then for him, and only for him, 
you will want to become a woman. 

I bend to you

noise

I bend to you
to your unusual gesture
yet so familiar deeds
to those able to read
beyond the simple appearance
of a banal, mundane caress.
And your glance
outlines with a simple touch
the shape of my soul
revealing every shore
and every hidden inlet.
And so my soul is bleeding
and drop after drop
filling your hands
with all the words
left unsaid between us,
with all the absences
the willful reticences,
all the long waits,
all the questioning stares.
And yet  you surprise me
with something always new
unexpected in its simplicity
essential and unforeseen
taking my  fingers in yours
and lifting my mind away
in a renewed elsewhere,
the only place I crave
the only which makes sense.

for all my mistakes

noise

For all my mistakes
the one I have done
and those I will commit
for all the time
I stood here thinking
it was never too late.

For all the prayers
I have never said
for all the silences
I have let flow
between  my hands
empty in front of life.

For all my pride
and my being vain
for my beginning
and for all my ends
for a flag of regret
for the drums of my heart.

For all the trust
I have wasted
and all the useless
memories I have kept,
leaving you walking
alone in a dead end.

For all the fantasies
flying in my mind
like blind butterflies
against your  flame,
with all my mistakes
I always will love you.

my love is noisy

noise


My love is noisy,
it is not well educated,
you can’t bring it out for dinner
in fancy restaurants,
hoping it behaves,
hoping  it shuts up.
You can’t mantle it
with the cloak of quiet prudence,
moderate  acceptance,
equilibrated tolerance.
It is not balanced
it doesn’t know barriers
it doesn’t care to see signals.
My love kicks and screams,
it cries all the tears
for  unsaid, uncertain fears.
My love has scars
and sometimes it bleeds,
soiling your clothes,
reddening your hands,
when you try to keep it still.
You can’t dress it
with glamorous suits
hoping that it stays quiet
sitting in a corner,
grateful and tranquil.
My love is fearless and shameless,
it will grab your hand,
will drag you beyond
every obstacle and
it will laugh in your face
looking deep in your fears.
My love is primal,
instinctive, savage,
my love is wild,
it doesn’t listen to reasons ,
it doesn’t know occasions,
it doesn’t care of opinions,
common sense conventions.
You won’t be able to tame it
with the power of your words
with the force of your beliefs.
It will win or die.

I am bound to you

faux pas, originally uploaded by arialee miles.

I am bound to you, welcome it or not ,
with invisible ropes tightened along my brains,
with knots tied to my naked soul full of scars of you.
Make of it a message for the future inhabitants
of a shattered world, full of hopeless aimless robots.
I am bound to you, think carefully about it
in the depth of the nights when restless nightmares
will mercilessly haunt you till a sleepless dawn,
that surprises you helpless in the middle of its colorless twilight.
I am bound to you, and this simple undeniable truth
will not fade away, will not disappear, will not be deleted ignoring it
just pretending with a shrug I have never said it.
Just pretending I always keep intact my strength of mind,
my unquestionable logic and my impeccable self control,
pretending I am not the wild son of a warrior offspring.
I am bound to you, and whether you want listen to me or not,
those are the facts in their bare , simple and shameless essence.
Almost a luminescence, my womb iridescence, an opalescence
Clairvoyance and vengeance … that’s my life and it is your prudence.

sometimes

I am not in war, originally uploaded by arialee miles.

Sometimes the things
which hurt our feelings
are the ones that should help us
to find out our limits.
So trailed by our emotions
we dejected admire the collapse
of our illusions.
We hurry up to archive
sensations that could disturb
our attitude to cover the remote meaning
of too literal words and discourses.

OUTSIDERS

Peace on Earth 5 # 3, originally uploaded by arialee miles.

Outsiders who aren’t strangers
More familiar than far friends,
More presents even if absents,
Alive in thoughts,
They act and interact,
On parallel axis,
They meet and they graze,
And they depart,
Persuaded that
The nothing
Will last forever.

Wildly infatuated with ideas,
Drunk with words
They continue to interweave
Transient relations,
Illusions which cannot be disregarded,
Manipulations,
Mind subjections,
Self deceptions.

They embellish the life
Like a saint patron,
With pinchbecks and jewels,
They disguise the days,
They shuffle cards,
So well acquainted
With their own fictions,
With the compulsion to repeat
That the parallel is real,
And the false becomes true,
In the reality of their self knowledge.

They are in pain,
Vulnerable tools
Of others’ strength,
Unwitting victims
Of haughty bondages,
Sudden refusals,
Unjustified desertions,
Unforeseen disappearances,
Wilful deceptions.

They love,
Hanging themselves
By a thread
Of abandoned trust ,
Of aware blindness,
Of instinctive relief
To a concealed wretchedness.


And they love,
It seems paradoxical,
But they love
With deep love
And unreserved devotion,
Cause not mediate
By physical attraction ,
Not upset by competition.


They look for each other,
With trust they rely
On the unknown
Of a sign,
In the insecurity
Of the next day
In the hazard ,
In the uneasiness.

Benefited from the remoteness,
Held by the nocturnal intimacy
Or by the secrecy
Of a stolen morning,
They tell each other the soul,
They narrate each others’ dreams,
Soothe each others’ pains
Of stinging disappointments,
And plunged in
Overpowering passions
They exchange promises
They know they won’t keep.

Then they run away,
Suddenly they disappear
Shades in the shadow
They go back in the limbo,
In the blurred background ,
Souls to rebuild,
In a snare,
Identity to fill up
With other others’ lived
Hunting again
And again,
To outline a past
A simulacrum of credibility,
To try another game
Pretend another love,
And feel
A shiver
Again.

Tell me another story ....

don't wake me up, originally uploaded by arialee miles.

Tell me another story while the burglar night
surprises our rituals, and the words and the voids.
Tell me just a story, only another and I’ll go.
I will leave this land of elves, fairies and giants
to withdraw into the warmth of dazzling falling stars
which live into our dreams when we can’t fall asleep.
Tell me another story, one with an happy end,
so that I can look at myself while smiling in the darkness,
when a kiss of yours, a whiff, a candle, a breath
stop to gather my gestures to put them into yours.