melancholy

A Typical Day In The Life Of A Poet

Polaroid by Adi Putra

Did it ever happen to you to read something and understand something totally different?
Did you ever float and shut up the reason
When desire was getting ahead of reality?
I once thought
That a painting of mine will travel to Japan.
For three hours
I experienced an intense happiness
And I imagined everything
I imagined Tokyo
And remembered Haruki Murakami
I saw myself next to the ship
In which my Lady Cyclops was embarked
Shedding tears and waving my handkerchief
Good bye Lady Cyclops
I remember how I painted you
And I’ve seen you in the mirror ever since
Not because I am a cyclops myself
But because you were hanging on top of my bed
And there’s a mirror in front.
I remembered how I wrote a fairy tale for young adult artists
And how happy I was imagining my life in the no-worries-land
And danced a bit on tropical rhythms on my way to the balcony
To smoke a cigarette and face the cold.
And I imagined me writing my memories about how I always lived in some bubbles
Because I was happier like that.
I saw myself at Tokyo at night
Walking slowly
And I remembered how I once wrote a poem about a man
A passionate poem named War and Peace
And then, after the illusion, I wrote a story about love in our fast-forwards times and disappointment
I laughed a bit
How powerful the illusion is
I am making stories out of everything.
I remembered Will, my character
The imaginary man in charge with my will power and imaginary business affairs
And I remembered how I imagined Will for the first time
Walking slowly in my hometown.
I remembered how I imagined everything
When desire was getting ahead of reality
And I imagined how I would remember everything
My memory stratified
A layer of desires, a layer of bubbles, a layer of misunderstandings
I told myself that maybe love works in a similar manner
Life stratified
A layer of desires, a layer of memories, a layer of bubbly expectations
And I laughed a bit
Because I had shed all my tears at
the imaginary departure of my Lady Cyclops
I said goodbye lady Cyclops
Don’t worry, you will go to Japan
I will paint you a ship .

—

Laura Livia Grigore is a poet, painter and psychology enthusiast, with a background in space engineering. She likes to experiment with various mediums and types of writing. Her artwork is orientated on emotions, reflecting her opinion that most of the answers we need can be found inside ourselves, although the hardest thing to do is to be sincere with oneself. You can purchase her book here. 

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