talkin' talk

I got a few inquiries on the status of my writings, whether its fiction or based on my personal experiences. People have been asking, "Who is 'she'?"

As I have no qualms on it being a 'she' or a 'he', as far as love goes everything is possible. But there are certain feelings contribute to the fiction that I've come up with. But that being said, certain feelings doesn't mean that they have been felt before. Sometimes, when we dig inside our inner soul, we can find various feelings we are capable to feel. It all depends on how to evoke emotions, interpret it, control it and use it to your advantages. The key word, is to understand that feeling wholly. Then, you can feel, wholeheartedly.

And here, I'd like to relate to a poem by my favorite poet, Jelalluddin Rumi, which somewhat, share a similarity in terms of concept with some of my poetries.

LOVE AND I TALKING

Love says, You cannot deny me. Try.

I say, Yes, you appear out of nowhere
like the bubbles in wine, here, then not.

Love says, Prisoned in the body-jar,
singing at the banquet.

I say, This ecstasy is dangerous.

Love says, I sip the delicious day,
until night takes the cup away.
Then I insist night give it back.
The light I see by never changes.

Arabs describe wine with the word mudam,
which means continual. On and on and on,
because wine drinkers never get enough.

The water of realisation is the wine we mean
where love is the liquid, your body the flagon.

Grace floods in. The wine's power
breaks the jar. It's happening now.

The water of waking becomes the one who pours,
the wine itself, and every presence at the banquet.

No metaphor can hold this truth
that knows how to keep secret
and when to show itself.

- Jelalluddin Rumi-

taken from The Essential Rumi: Translation by Coleman Barks (pg.354)

flagon (noun)
1. a large bottle for wine, liqours, etc
2. a container for holding liquids, as for use at table, esp. one with a handle, a spout, and usually a cover.
taken from http://dictionary.reference.com


Cosmic Notes:
Some people say that the poem is quite deep. For me, its just simply lovely. Love knows how to keep a secret, and how to show itself. Personally, without knowing it, I tasted how to love to the fullest, and at times, I wonder, whether its true or not, these feelings that I've had. Becos, as a writer, yes, you create fiction. And at one point, you don't know which is which, how the fiction that you created, evolves and grows in your own real life.

Some took it as an advantage to create better things.

Some drowned in the said confusion.

I'm in between. I'm drowning yet enjoying the water.
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