HEART OF AL-ENGINEER
You know? I miss you. With you, I built my own images of this old black and white world. Of a fair-lady. A love story. Smelled the 'essence Uff' of the world of boundaries and false aristocracy. Seen or rather imagined the workshop for creation. Creation of beauty, up lifting scenes and plays. Elegance. Really elegant you were. Dedicated. Loyal. Attached. Baby till the last moment. Loving to life and to beauty. To taste. Elegant taste. Sleeping on the King's bed. Angels at its corner. Golden brass metal boundaries. Not isolating you, yet preserving your golden age. Golden heart and art. Your energy filled me up when I see you jumping, singing, loving, adapting, projecting, crying in sorrow and in happiness. Declaring your love on stage. On the very place you adored. United your Lover with your beloved. Neither one got jealous. They accept. They loved one another because they loved you. You bounded them and they bounded you. So sad this ever changing world. But it can not be otherwise. Really wished you were always present. Could be better you disappeared.
I looked feverishly for your address. I did not find it. Not sure if anyone can tell me where to find where you live. I want to come visit. Sincerly. I know you are in Zamalek. Where? I do not know. I just feel I want to see the entrance. Sense the energy of this building you tapped with glory, success, happiness and later despair. Could be. You entered there everyday after hearing the applauding, clapping hands and the heart-felt full laughs. What did you feel back then? What were you thinking every time you clicked these stairs or pressed this elevator button. I have a fantasy that I can sense all that when I delve into your space.
Interesting this deep connection to places that I develop. Not places but to buildings. To entourage. Not human entourage but stones. Silent. Non breathing yet absorbing entourage. They say a lot. Only if you listen. Where your bed-room window is tells me a lot about you. In fact, tells me about myself. I, at times, even feel the sadness or glory of a building. How it stands, connects with me. Something in the air there whispers me your secrets. Make me annonymously enter your world and watch you from behind the curtains. When rehearsing. Not when actually playing life.
To me, you only lived when you were acting. Wished to have been given the chance to see you while you actually lived. Could not do it. Hoping to create it.
A Tribute to your Virgo heart. Mind and Soul. Wish you will find the stamp you lost your life searching for.
I looked feverishly for your address. I did not find it. Not sure if anyone can tell me where to find where you live. I want to come visit. Sincerly. I know you are in Zamalek. Where? I do not know. I just feel I want to see the entrance. Sense the energy of this building you tapped with glory, success, happiness and later despair. Could be. You entered there everyday after hearing the applauding, clapping hands and the heart-felt full laughs. What did you feel back then? What were you thinking every time you clicked these stairs or pressed this elevator button. I have a fantasy that I can sense all that when I delve into your space.
Interesting this deep connection to places that I develop. Not places but to buildings. To entourage. Not human entourage but stones. Silent. Non breathing yet absorbing entourage. They say a lot. Only if you listen. Where your bed-room window is tells me a lot about you. In fact, tells me about myself. I, at times, even feel the sadness or glory of a building. How it stands, connects with me. Something in the air there whispers me your secrets. Make me annonymously enter your world and watch you from behind the curtains. When rehearsing. Not when actually playing life.
To me, you only lived when you were acting. Wished to have been given the chance to see you while you actually lived. Could not do it. Hoping to create it.
A Tribute to your Virgo heart. Mind and Soul. Wish you will find the stamp you lost your life searching for.
Comments