Comments Posted By Hafada

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Beginnings beget middles and middles beget endings – but begin one must. So begin!

» Posted By Hafada On 09.21.2012 @ 12:46 am


You clamored to claim me, I aimed to clam up, I clamped shut – I am not yours to claim.

» Posted By Hafada On 09.20.2012 @ 12:22 am


Failure is intrinsic in writing, in translating concrete images into abstract signs. Which is why one always writes ‘despite’.

» Posted By Hafada On 09.18.2012 @ 11:50 pm


together alone. platitudes.
while platypusses aren’t monogamous,
my two tattoos are.

» Posted By Hafada On 09.17.2012 @ 11:08 pm


To be freed? To become absolved? From what?
I can only fee myself; I can only absolve myself – from myself?
Words, words… What meanings can these words have?

» Posted By Hafada On 08.29.2012 @ 11:51 pm


“Convict me, Convince!”
(Said the constantly conscious con…)

» Posted By Hafada On 06.02.2012 @ 1:26 am


Primitive thoughts, primary thoughts, productive thoughts, permissible thoughts, practical thoughts, pristine thoughts, polluted thoughts, private thoughts, painful thoughts, particular thoughts, pressing thoughts, prime thoughts –
thought I primitively.

» Posted By Hafada On 05.10.2012 @ 11:51 pm


Trial separation. That’s what she said. Keeps saying, keeps telling all her friends and everyone willing to listen. Or so I’ve heard. I can see them thinking, every single one of them:
I wonder who’ll get the kids.

» Posted By Hafada On 05.01.2012 @ 11:54 pm


Scorn on the cob, buttered
staring up at me as we
in silence through yet another meal

» Posted By Hafada On 04.23.2012 @ 11:27 pm


They say I’m not of sound mind. I say I have songs running through my head all day long. I live in melody and lyrics. They say my brain is fried, but I know they’re wrong: my brain is music, is rhythm, is dance.

» Posted By Hafada On 04.21.2012 @ 11:49 pm


I woke up with a slight disturbance lying next to me in bed this morning. I made it coffee but not breakfast, and then I asked it to leave. It would not. It is now sitting opposite me at my kitchen table, smiling benevolently. I want to smash that slight disturbance in the face. But I know I won’t get rid of this one through force. More coffee?

» Posted By Hafada On 04.19.2012 @ 10:17 pm


hood – It stares at me, that word does. It looks like a factory with two huge round windows for eyes. Without having to say anything it screams: GET TO WORK!

» Posted By Hafada On 04.04.2012 @ 4:25 pm


I flipped. I flipped my lid. I flipped my lid way off. It fell to the ground, where it shattered. There was no way to repair it. My lid, that is. Which I flipped.

» Posted By Hafada On 04.03.2012 @ 3:28 pm


Stand at attendance! Chest up, shoulders down. Let’s have a 7-billion-shot gun salute for all the nameless attendees in this weird little process called life.

» Posted By Hafada On 04.02.2012 @ 2:17 pm



» Posted By Hafada On 04.01.2012 @ 1:53 pm


Splash! Plash. Lash. Ash. Sh…

» Posted By Hafada On 03.29.2012 @ 4:39 pm


Captured in a capsicum was a little creature.
Little creature screamed for help,
but capturing capsicum kept it.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.28.2012 @ 2:32 pm


The Catcher in the Rye, of course. No question. The great American novel. Read it, then read it again!

» Posted By Hafada On 03.27.2012 @ 2:35 pm


You’re driftwood, just driftwood, floating in the sea – or something like that. It was S.’s song for G., but it became his song for me – with time, as he kept singing it and singing it, I realised that it was becoming more and more for me. Just driftwood, floating in the sea…

» Posted By Hafada On 03.26.2012 @ 2:23 pm


You temper yourself beautiful. Because that’s what you are, when you stand in the middle of my bedroom, naked and with the morning light painting you soft while you scream at me, scream!

» Posted By Hafada On 03.25.2012 @ 2:28 pm


An exquisite visit. That’s what it was. He left feeling elated. Partly because he knew he’d never see her again. It was like they’d drunk the last bottle of vintage champagne. And that was that – the cellar was now empty. He knew it, and it felt right.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.24.2012 @ 2:44 pm


She has an old wooden trunk where she puts all her regrets and mistakes – which are memories made, as Adele sings. Whenever she’s made another mistake or has a regret she locks it in the trunk. When everything gets too much for her she imagines being on a sailing boat and throwing the trunk over board. She watches it sinks.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.22.2012 @ 1:55 pm


fixed on you. give me a fix. I need a fix. please give me a fix of you. because I’m fixed on –
fix me. give me a fixing. I need to be fixed. please fix me. because I’m fixed on –
fix me up. give me a fix-upp. I need to be fixed up. please fix me up. because I’m fixed on –
fixed on you.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.21.2012 @ 1:58 pm


ratings are for people who don’t trust their own opinions enough. you can spend your life holding on to ratings like onto a liferaft. or you can learn how to swim. (that last bit actually makes no sense at all.)

» Posted By Hafada On 03.20.2012 @ 8:39 pm


Too American for me… The word? The concept? Perhaps it’s just too early in the morning for me, really…

» Posted By Hafada On 03.19.2012 @ 1:13 pm


Torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch, torch, scorch –

» Posted By Hafada On 03.18.2012 @ 2:48 pm


Let me be your staple food, slurp me up daily, regurgitate me. Lay me out on your table, feast on me – and let us give thanks for our daily bread. Let me rise and then bake me, let me be your staple food.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.17.2012 @ 6:01 pm


Pastel walls, padded walls, the chain severed, the cuffs taken off – a pastel hell. No view, not even of the bars in the courtyard. And no sound. Just a light avocado-green colour driving me mad.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.16.2012 @ 4:29 pm


The pattern on the sidewalk, walking home from a one-night-stand, standing proud at the traffic light: lights, please don’t go out on me! Me – I keep falling into the same patterns. The pattern on the sidewalk, walking home from a one-night-stand.

» Posted By Hafada On 03.15.2012 @ 3:46 pm


For the duration of his stay, he though, he’d pretend to be a CHARACTER in a PLACE doing an ACTION. And he would see what came of it. Perhaps he’d transcend himself and end (it’s in the word) up in a fab new play or movie or book. Just anywhere not here. Just anywhere!

» Posted By Hafada On 03.14.2012 @ 5:09 pm

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