miercuri, 28 decembrie 2011


Excerpt from the novel "The World Below",
Junimea Publishing House, Iassy, Romania, 2010
by Celestine




If you haven’t loved yet, you have stainless, long time to do so.

Don’t leave your ship nor your soul, as you stare into the abyss, because where there is a fall... there’s a new ascension!

If you fear darkness, remember even darkness fears the light.

 If you are afraid of your fellow man, ask yourself how much he fears your fear.

 If you’re ashamed to hug a stranger, first make friends with the stranger inside you.

If running away is the best defence into the mind’s hell, 
go into the hell and run away from your mind.

Though judging others comforts you, do understand judging
through the “comfort” of the others. 

 Give children the right to be yours,but leave them free to play and wander at their will, thus when they ought to be grown they shall breed you, as well. 

 Learn to learn nothing and feel the lack of 
knowledge apart of not learning, but something
given ahead.

When you feel healthy inside, let open your souls and ask not for truths you cannot bear.

Tell them that the world belongs to water and into water they will find a new beginning.

            Tell them that the night shall be day when they will find the love of the fellow man.

            Tell them when they’ll let themselves free, their souls will travel along and when they’ll cease the war within themselves, they will find their peace.

Show them the beauty inside any beast, as for every beast was born to regale itself from kindness.

  Give them your knowledge as I have given it to you and help them dream the purity beyond and within the water.

I shall come in hard times embracing your pain, your foreheads and tear full eyes I shall wash and with my tales I shall caress you. 

            If you haven’t been loved yet, you have a soul that’s searching itself through love. 

When you feel deserted, look up for the sky
and scream at those forsaken to fill up your soul, thus the sky full of rain and the flowers’ fields will lay down upon you, to comfort your tiredness.

     If you have forgotten how love looks like at its edges, embrace the trees, they shall ask for nothing in return, only bring you remembrance, they shall.

  If  you have forgotten you’re not alone in this world, look at the mountain peaks and at the vastness of the sea, for they shall always be there for you, when you’re longing. 

   If  from your path have strayed and can’t find your way or the road ahead,leave memories along the trail, for the road is not ahead, but back where you have started from.  

     Thus every ending is a new beginning, every beginning is a new ending, as well.

The whole man’s wonder lies within simple drops of water, so to feel pure, there’s no need for a bunch of clouds. 

luni, 12 decembrie 2011


[...] who said the world was made for you?

A story by Celestine

         Who knows what vision is?
      You think of a sky hanging up there and you look up searching for the truth. 
      I remember my first day I met the elephant. It was like September, bleak rainy image at my window when the ivory appeared to be one of my major ribs. The elephant said to me:
     - I can borrow you my precious ivory if you move the Earth upside down, so I can climb it and rest up there, between the clouds. This world you live in, doesn't fit me. Missing spots of the elephant's habits, missing values of my rite. Give me the world, having your sky under my feet and I shall build up your rib, out my ivory.

       I remember the 1st day I met the elephant:
       He said to me:
       - Is your world a happy one? 
      Do you feel like it belongs to you?
    You stole my ivory after my death... little creatures, thinking of me dying... made you rich.
      Did you ever see my sky? 
     You  know, that small patch that surrounds your imaginary world. 
      Did you ever touch it? 
     That wet feeling on your fingers when your fancy sky is crying.
      Did you ever climb it?
     You made an ivory stair out of  my world and still, you didn't make it up there. Do you cry when your kind passes away? 
     For I've seen your world bowing and praying to no one.
     Who made your world spin?


     My elephant has a name, a typical one actually... a name that stood still inside my heart. It was like the sound of rain knocking against my window. My stuck-up vision of man between my temples reminded me of his name when I asked him:
     - Tell me why is my world not the real one?  Who put it up there?
     He gazed at me with the ivory power, put down his forehead, stretched over my land and said:
     - Your kind has issues. 

    - You hate and love at the same time, the same sky, the same land, the same people. You are all the same.
     You feel nauseated and disgusted by being alone, yet, you can't live next to someone.
    So difficult to adjust and understand each other when you feel weak and betrayed. 
    You enjoy the taste of revenge, giving shape to your own sky when asking for forgiveness.
   You made the world spin, a grasp of your impotence spread between each other, when you need answers.
     What did you do then?
    You turn your land into a grave, you put a sky out there, as being your salvation and you populate it, out of fear.


     - Mother of the Earth, I pray for the growing and remembering of the truth.
       - What is the "truth" into your world, the elephant asked me.
          - I can't remember, I said.
       - You give birth and take lives. Is this your truth? the elephant asked.
       - We empowered ourselves to do that, we have the reasoning of creation that you don't, I indignantly answered.
        - I have the ivory your people stole from me, yet... I didn't steal anything from your kind, not even taking lives, I didn't.
        Is this your reasoning, I don't have? The elephant wondered.

    - We love our kind when we give birth. We brought them up, showing them the path.
     - And what path is that? asked the elephant.
     - I don't know, I said. Do you?
     - Then tell me what is your kind's love?
     - I don't know... feeling, we call it feeling, I said.
    - Hating is also a feeling into your world, said the elephant.
     - What is love into your world? I asked.
     - We call it BURNING, said the elephant.
     We grow to be the elephants of your created reality, under your created sky, with your created believes and we do not pray to fancy Gods, but praise our land for burning down those fancy dreams, fancy ways of living, we have no reason into lying, killing, avenging, destroying, hating, stealing and at the end of all these - not praying to a God to forgive us. 

      Hilarious... funny creatures you people are.
      - What's so not funny about you? I wondered.
    - We breed our elephants to beware your kind, to protect our ivory laws and to stand on our feet under your sky.
     - But do you have the truth?  I asked him.
     - Yes, we do.
     - And what is your truth? I asked.
     We just live into burning your upside down reality. In your language means:
     We love your kind even if you don't "see" us, but yet... steal from us. 
    This is what you do among your people too, but the truth is, you don't "see" each other when you do it.

marți, 6 decembrie 2011


[...] my wounded angel had become my fear    


  Poem by Celestine
 The open eye stroke my path
To the mezzanine.
The ritual of light spread 
Over the shepherds.
One shepherd,
Two shepherds,
 Three shepherds...
My Gods.
The way of man into the wood.
Defying the procreation,
I took place
Into the world of  lunatics.
Who made the world spin?

 What a bless not to ask, not to see...
My wounded angel had become my fear,
Into the ambuscade of the believers.
Obey the light to their way!
Angel with long arms 
Crushed the waves of glory.
One angel, 
Two angels,
Three angels...
My Gods.
Common name for the repentance.
I made the world spin!
I made the raven's awe 
Burst aside...
Disclosing my defiance.

Took my house on the rack, 
Mazed world no longer touched,
By those hands of the architect.
Do you see me?
I'm the one in the corner of your eye.
Pull me out and I shall stare
Through your marble soul.
Raptly knee of my God
Rose up in arms.
 Its slender shoulders had no wings.
I defied those wings,
When I became you.

sâmbătă, 3 decembrie 2011


[...] and the Puppeteer of this world 
looked at me and said: 

Do you want to be a bird 
on the wire?
just a simple doll...
tangled between the threads?

Poem by Celestine

    My little creature of divine
These threads are but your useless way.
To perish and to struggle?
A piece of work,
Might say...
I played it on the stubble.

You put my character on stage,
No longer wasted scene of love...
Do realize his blink of rage,
A hand in glove!
Oh, no... poor soul 
Do stop!
 It is your dream of man, 
Your little pawnshop.

This scene I played so many times
Don't crash into your hands of crimes.
Don't let this dream to pierce your soul
 You stepped over your only sole.
Now wait...
It's time for praying and for love
I made this world of...
I shall and I shall not deny
The comprehension of  my cirque.
It took me seven days to work
Not to decry,
My piece of work.

I lied myself by gratitude of man
For I regard my love 
To be the liaison of my plan.
He thought of me by playing in my yard,
And named me Puppeteer... 
Of the human bard.
And when I made this world,
My lovely cradle,
You took it all and changed
Into your label.
Those tears locked inside your pain
Made you believe I was to gain,
This world instead of my creation...
My simple plot from your damnation.

 It's time to make my dolls refrain,
From spreading out their truth of pain.
From leting out my characters
To perish...
When I became your doll to cherish.
Such pitty!
I'm ashamed.
It's not my piece of work
I blamed...
But just a joke that I disclaimed,
For I destroyed this dream.
I  sear...
Your world of dolls.
I'm not your Puppeteer! 

vineri, 2 decembrie 2011


                                                                        photo by Paula Rosa


Poem by Celestine

Fearful words lovin' your ear
Oh, dear soul...
Shall I become but sorrow?
Protection of your weakness 
Makes me swallow
Those dreadful tears born inside.
Mild and mild...
The streets are poisoned, still.
Shivering hat covers your pain,
Sickness and ill.
Hello, my barred heart... 
 Is it you,
Emptiness around me, as a beggar?
So clever, yet so swagger.

 Crossing by
Just tell me...why?
Why buy the Universe from inside-out?
Why let myself bargain what is right,
or wrong...
A painless song?

Or ...
Virtue in my ears.
To leave you out?
To let you breathe?
Spread myself in flying
No longer trapped by dying.
I'm free.
So just breathe... me.