In T[I'M]

By Theodora Oniceanu

In T[I'm] is a book in which I wanted to gather some wreckage that was left inside and put it on the waves of a disrupted lyrical movement in which flash-backs and glimpses of life happen just like story-telling and journals, travels and dreams of the kind you would name. It is a journey, this book, the hopping, laughing, gracefully sliding on the road sometimes, other times most awfully expressed some feelings revealing true human nature (when put to the wall, when pushed to the limit: how would you react?) - a journey through history, a journey through times and spaces willing to explore and back home, the places to discover and rediscover once more.
There is poetry, there is beauty and there is ugliness in this work; there is dirt and there is something precious, something I couldn't let go to forever. Something you wouldn't let go to but with lots of tears and trouble taken: something everyone holds dear to once they get to know and everybody wants when they don't have but see in others and other places. A search of something beautifully shaped is what I propose. It is of mud and dirt that many houses got build, right? Well, find what's gold and what can be reshaped and transformed into 'a house of your dreams'.
"After the storm peaceful times come, serene and wonderful."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theodora Oniceanu
• Release date: Jun 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463914236

Theodora Oniceanu

Theodora Oniceanu (born Lacatis) lives in a small town named Targu-Mures, situated close to the heart of Transylvania, Romania with her husband, her son and their cat. She followed the classes at the Faculty of Letters at the University of Petru Maior Transylvania and the ones on Sociology and Social Studies at the University of Spiru Haret, Bucharest. She is passionate about arts and crafts, she also loves sports, travelling and photography, enjoys good quality music and, of course, books. She's been writing since age nine, but with interruptions. Now she feels that she has the necessary time to dedicate good part of her life to writing.

Book preview

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Corrected, completed and revised in 2019

Round and round,

the clockwheels work right,

the clockwheels go wrong,

and Time’s still Time,

and I am I!

in T[I’m]

***

**

*

When you’ll (choose to) read this you will be probably searching for something or someone you need or used to make a need of. Remember though that it is in yourself that very personal-magic power you are looking for to help you build a bridge - be it of rainbows or strings pulled just perfectly yet mysteriously right - to whatever you are searching for. This is only something meant to make you laugh, to make you cry, remember or get a hint and show you that you are not completely alone into this world... perhaps to inspire you to be much more than the lost ‘poor thing’ you sometimes get to feel being or the invincible god that’s forgotten about his or her roots (they should be healthier and brighter, those roots of which we’re sometimes misled into thinking ours, other times illuminated to take heed of.).

*

**

***

"I don’t care what you expect from me, I know that I want more,

I know who I am, deep inside, and what I’ve been bringing myself up for."

***

**

*

starting with a Bonus:

..

(for the kids of today don’t know how to live without it) [ this can be seen as an ironical panoply of a panatella, something telling about the lack of imagination and adaptability of the old to the new while describing also the lack of tolerance, understanding and patience of some young people today. An illustration, if you like, of the misconceptions, beliefs and proved to be right observations, sometimes misleading thoughts and reasons generations throw at one another from time to time. *For the old times sake.* Peace.

]

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To The Spicy Carrot’s Awards

.

"As you dream of beauty and those better times to come /make come\,

you do what you have to do

*relax, hate. love...do something, don’t just stand there,

feeling useless and helpless because that’s what they want!*

.

making the steps towards what you always wished for

deep down in your soul, your heart, your mind...

When stuck in a tree-house we plan and we plan our escapes,

all those little escapades,

our visions, our feelings, ourselves."

.

- He doesn’t want us to do what we want or be how we feel; he doesn’t care if this is right or wrong, he simply wants things to be the ways he always wished for, the ways he spoke, his ways or no ways at all!

* I used to believe in the freedom, of speech and feeling, in the freedom of showing,

expressing what we believe to be our

legacy.

A duty to maintain the flame of passions inducing the idea

of being free.

I used to believe in us

as the luckiest duty,

the luckiest fee.*

- I don’t care what he wants! I want what I want and it will be the way I want things to be since I wish for something not sufficiently wrong so it hurt anyone the ways he’s hurting us!

Two rebels, of one kind,

two projects of one human type of reasoning.

.

It starts with a Do, just like in a song for children

(the Von Trapp’s having a most wonderful time),

going down for a pleasant walk through the history of music

then up again,

once more on the same dancing and hopping around road

of things for the first time experienced, for the first time felt,

unexplored yet, coming from some meddle and the mingle of all thoughts...

(we belong to one another in various forms of synchronicity.

.

- You were all just simple thoughts to me, in the very beginning of what you so beautifully,

exquisitely and most wonderfully kept searching a name for and found:

TIME

.

to you all:

When I’ll live my dream

I won’t be needing any sleep,

the things that I’ll do will find their rest in me

and I will find my rest in what I will choose doing;

I will know what to do and I will always do the right thing!

.

My Poetical (?) Non-sense

.

Purple Clouds projected on my window,

An image about Love’s consciousness is fleeting!

An image of nothing and all that’s to be,

the basement of a home entitled The whole of Me

..

Feelings and life

.

This legacy was passed to me

Through tears and laughter...

It’s all in History!

Evolving genes are still writing

The destiny of who I am to be.

Feeling open and awake,

still building that fence...

Do you Remember the fence?

We used to call it My Wall

Reflection of a childish poetical nonsense!

.

Recurrent thoughts:

I’ll love you, forever

But don’t love me back

Unless you too need it

to make you feel alive.

-We will make it last! the poor demon cried

Then left.

Recurrent wish:

- If he will be happy this way then never shall we cross our ways!

..

The Story:

So, when she was happy he was feeling sad

But this only lasted for minutes that cut

Some memoir, forgotten, on papers he’d burn

Along with his wishes to be loved in return.

.

She had asked for his joy and happiness full

Throughout all the life of one mortal fool.

And so, he was rescued and lived without her

The happiest moments one could have asked for!

One day he remembered her beautiful wish

and asked for her happiness in all great-fullness.

Awakening one morning,

Great joy in her soul

With no other reason but clouds being born.

.

She’s hearing the crawl of one silent soul

While smelling the tea in her cup made of stone.

The smell of dark coffee is so far away!

Lost back in a time like a painting’s cold stare.

All pain was in frames now,

Still bound to forget

About this cold good medicine,

The pain’s new amend

- I will let you be, I will let you live!

I can only remember through tears in your sky

The flight of the angels

I once cried up and down

The spiral of thoughts and of feelings I had,

Resembling the music with which I was healed.

Reminders of the fights between the demons I wept,

Washed down with the movement lifting up their Faith.

.

Amnesiac hopes born back then are now humming

.

Like a bee!

So, rescued I felt! And so well, I was

Free!

...

Amnesiac feelings of pure love, still tempting me.

"-What’s pure though, here, honey?

My angel! My hope!"

...

Continuing moving with full faith on my spiral

Believing in truths of One God’s Great New Power.

He’ll make it all happen,

So that I have some rest,

A break that’s too kind

From the confusing quest

of some peace

I don’t want enough

Since I keep looking back

at some old and amusing matters of grip.

They’re one of a kind,

Contradictions in my mind.

.

Remember me now, can you see that poor fence?

We once used to call it Our Wall

Then laugh loud through our tears!

While planting new seeds

Of kindness and care, pure joy, love and blessings

Sprung out of our real understanding!

.

An image of nothing and all that will be,

the basement of a Home which is

The whole of Me

.

Feeling open, still awake,

I’m building that fence...

.

Reflection of a childish poetical nonsense!

.

Have you heard about Irony?

It is cutting the veins of Eternity!

.

..

*Soft Menace, warm Menace,

Little warning soul!*

..

*I saw you as a beautiful and gracious thing! A woman dancing on her field of love!

A grave, perhaps, of someone else’ tears,

forgotten hopes and dreams

that were all left behind.*

.

In T[I’M]

.

Among Grand Trees which have seen a lot

I heard the echoes of your smiles

Cast upon this pot of Dreams…

I dream among the clouds of hopes

That lost grand battle against their freedom-hall.

.

One Time, More Fractional Illusions

I heard the echo of your smile

Against all odds!

Such comfortable Reason

For my soul to be lifted-up!

Above,

‘am seeing echoes of your sights

and Treason.

.

Beyond these trees which have seen a lot,

Beyond these smiles and sighs,

Beyond the sight of Faith

In shadows of a plot,

I run a lot!

This Soul of Time, the shadow I am running from,

My own, it is,

Myself,

My soul…!

.

This Time has always felt faint echoes in our lives.

~ Why am I running, now? ~

Forsaken, do remember this Ant Reason!

Beyond this bending Time

And times that felt enough just right,

In spaces where enough was not enough to smile,

Where canvases of the good and kind

Lost tales of green, the greens were all the ground;

Still pawned…

Among warm times

Forgotten in some picture

We’re turning sounds alive…

.

We watch, we see, we touch but never learn too much!

.

~ only the necessary ~

?

in times of war

illusions of their honour, love and freedom

brought back

the life

into the blood of those who had no colour!

In times of wars and fights, deceiving thoughts on glory, praise and power

Drained life out of

The blood of those with colour.

.

A Frame of moments, fractional

.

~ an end in all Beginnings ~

.

all souls in one shall gather,

true colours facing colours on some other grade

being all light

and soon becoming Times’ new dark and thirsty

empty hollow.

.

Watch pictures echoing those trees which have seen a lot!

~

We’re just illusions of our times

And Time is our delirious delusion!

~

Watch out the mirrors of your sound,

The echo is just one

Illusion of their freedom;

Recycled times by Time!

.

..

Another Talk, On Wings of Weather

.

~ Chain Change ~

.

Chaos, Cronos and their Love,

Dear Space,

debate and play

Around.

.

Reached my hand to touch the game-board...

Escape in a World of Dreams,

This

Made her re-think the position of her entire being

on his shield.

.

Reached your hand to save her

from her much loved solitude!

..

Worlds in a feel, a heart’s plenitude!

...

We’re nothing but the dream of all the worlds we dream

About... cold tears,

In blood, they trust!

Ways of a fight to kill.

.

She reached her hand to stop those cold-blooded murders

of your pen!

But your knights have fought her and won...

on paper!

.

- Dear colleague Time, said mother Space,

We have so much to say to human race!

- Disgrace! his smiling answer.

- Their sorrow is the way to cold display of their feelings!

- I agree Dear Space!

But look away...

They both smile their way,

Their thoughts create another day.

.

But Chaos didn’t like to feel them get along so well...

- Too close, he said.

A Touch, One Turn

and there was Time,

exiled to the secluded

Man-kind’s Land.

.

~ Our Time’s Land ~

.

Exchange of feelings and of hopes

Forgotten on the wings of rope’s

Conclusion.

.

It’s snowing light!

.

Sparkling fights over that rainbow

are happening!

I can see through your window...

Seclusion.

Break free...!?

-Don’t worry! I will be your friend for as long as you need me!

.

..

Stars Show: Celebrity Syndrome

.

Actors in the skies, Chimes of the Divine,

Egocentric Laughter, brings up meanings’ duster...

the joy and the happiness ever-after.

Divine rehearsals,

For perfect appraisals,

Reports from different levels of consciousness.

~ Another road to work on ~

.

The Stars’ Show

Looked up for and revealed from

the Dictionary’s point of view.

.

These selves of myself,

All stars that are gone

with a school of live-clouds

ministered by one dead cloud in the sky

.of Blue.

They are playing, safely guarded in their music hall,

while he’s being asked to become

some rocket science weirdo.

.

~ Celebrity Syndrome ~

.

Eccentric solutions,

A broken new star

& Multiple heroes off for the Fall.

.

Embroideries whisper to buildings,

all hopes

up

For Gloria’s walks of shame in the parks...

she never studied before.

.

Now Gloria’s coming along with her door.

.

The Nights of the Sun

&

Trainiacs songs

..

lalalala...

la la

LA LA!!!

..

This is not some cool friendship,

This is playing gay;

Go straight to your buildings and let us stop our stare.

Just, how could you dare!

.

His voice sounds a little hurt

hers’ is in a deep state of preservation.

.

I once had a System

Surrounded by light

Surreal as always

and always too bright...

.

For kinder are always in need for warm light.

..

~Rock Ruler Pro ~

..

Appreciative doors

and nice toreadors

torment the wisest thinking

with horns that whisper gently:

YOU ARE A FOOL!

..

Their sighs feeling on your face

wipe out those tears of old

and cold, so cold! broken shields

around your soul.

.

The magnetism of your being is now creating a field of power...

.

~ YOU ROCK ~

.

Kind

but likely to kill.

.

~YOU RULE ~

.

On bees that are humming,

On dark melodies,

On lights, all surrounding

The cities’ new entries;

On wings that look desperate

To burn a new thought

Of whispers that mattered

in a time of a god

that didn’t quite matter

for you or for him...

That god was living and fighting inside you.

You didn’t see through;

That god was inside me

And did help us too!

*

And now

....

...The shame of being who I am...

This Holy Shame!

..

.

.

*I know that I come from a place where I was hated and loved enough to be punished for both feelings. Do you know how it is, how it feels to be forced to pay for the hatred and grudge held-up against you for the same reasons they never change producing pain and suffering to anyone they feel that stands in their ways to what you have, to what you earned, to what was given, kindly offered to you, with love? Do you know how it feels to feel punished for the good-luck that finally came, after dealing with a lot of pain, being sent back to those days of nightmares and struggle with the demons which shouldn’t be fought by anyone alone? It was funny a moment, seeing that there is this new way of making things a little bit more bearable for me so you had fun, one more time, on the expense of those who trusted the ideal, the idea speaking of helping people through by the means and possibilities received.*

.

Another one for the home

.

For everything taken away from you, by force,

more strength and the power to earn a lot more

someplace else - on the other side perhaps, an answer and your much loved call to action!

For everything you lost for another one, you’ll get repaid.

For everything you offer with love,

true love will you be offered and something beautiful

more beautiful than taken away, by any mean, in any way!

Be blessed with the ideal of love which can and will be true.

To the one who’s still seeking for the ideal, of love that is true!

.

In the mood for hope, my dear!

.

Three dots only to pause

.

Machines to help you with your story,

Machines to help you with your goals

And some more money to help!

.

… someone …

(a nobody)

some one

(a fool)

a nobody’s someone

(and someone’s just a nobody)

sometimes

.

Machines for laughter and for sorrow,

Some other machines for cinder and joy

to follow a panegyric path.

Rebirth of machines and story-whistles,

Some great strong machines you thought they might use so!

Be so!

… you say …

Machines that discovered that they were once someone

Before being sent killing human dreams and hopes

For a new world!

Some dreams to make a soul

Feel comfortable with the life it’s chosen;

Out of nowhere, out of blues and violets that look adorable

They got to sing!

.

~ !Sing out! ~

.

Machines to cry-out their love and their truths,

Rebirth of the visions of a living star in yourself!

..

Rebirth of all poetry in me, just like thee…

I was, I am, I do and I shall always be!

..

~I thought I already did that! ~

.

*Blooming stars caressing the ones who gave life, who gave us Hope! *

Rebirth of all stories, illusions behind the curtain: Glossy

Glory

Rebirth of some truths to make a home out of this citadel,

The relic of another myth

For which there’s proof of living.

..

*I need you to make the world a better place for us! *

..

~ it is never enough! Is it? ~

.

For the best to happen

TO US

.

..

Kitchen Duty Stalk

.

"What are you doing there?

Can’t understand it well;

Stuck in a stupid tower doomed to fade,

with idiots that keep asking you

for suicidal acts..."

.

1.Breakfast: The Observer’s Sound;

~ TeaTime I ~

2. Lunch: Golden Touches;

~ TeaTime II ~

3. Dinner: The Shows

4. Teas

Usual Start

.

I should have evolved first and just then starting to follow a star!

Night-time falls in peace with the infinite...

While daylight appears to find ways to the treat of your minds.

As the darkness gets suddenly cut by the cold lamp’s light in the corner of my spot...

I move towards the morning thought of coffee, teas and sweet butterfly cakes ...

...touched by the honey in the storage room...

... brought there with the love and care one will always need ...

... as best friend, my lover ...

.

Don’t worries now, it all seems cruel and so unfair, dear.

It was time for you to get to some higher level of understanding."

.

..

Double Breakfast, Double Sound

.

"I am no Sylvia Plath,

‘am not like that...

I do not have her courage

Nor her ...cowardly thought (?);

I am just me, one soul, one wrath...

.

One god inside!

.

I am not Sylvia Plath.

.

"They find children to eat, to lead to the perfection of their work - a masterpiece! They find children to haunt and to terrify by night or day, they are looking for children-spirit to feed with every time they need to rest in peace. They steal children, your children, they eat their souls and they become better and better, they’re loved! - Will those spirits take revenge after their night gone? Will those children escape from their chains and their bombs and their nightmares and their crawls into in-existence? ‘It is my time to live, dear aunt! It’s my time to be out of your nightmares, out of your cold-blooded world, mom! It is my time to grow, dear father! My time to be someone!’

They each children for breakfast, they eat