11 may 2022

 there is this one animal I know
that is so ugly as a a puppy
and continues to be bald as an adult,
their fur growing sparsely and in many lengths;
despite this they live to a good old age.

I am one of those unfortunate fuckers.
So I cover myself with chunky clothes
in that the outline of my body can't be noticed
and glow green when I see my canine brood,
so unaware of our shameful bodies.

10 feb 2022

I am interested in this topic because I love animals so passionately. Both those that I have held close to my heart during my childhood, those I have had the pleasure to host as an adult and the many that I have met in parks and zoos and other households. It just brings me peace to hang out with other animals, to make the space for them and to understand what they are communicating and what they need from me. They are such funny creatures!
So when I started studying sociology one niche thing I became quite interested in is the study of how relationship with animals. Also I think another type of sociology that really inspired me is the sociology of the everyday. And this is how my current project came about: how do we relate to animals on a day to day basis? I used to go to the park to feed the animals quite regularly, but I must admit I haven’t done so in quite a while because I welcomed a whole person into my life (and my flat): my dog. She is not fond of other dogs, particularly those who try to play with her things. She doesn’t seem to really understand how to communicate with them without being driven by fear. She does love me a lot, tho! She loves to nibble on my toes and my favourite things and she often gets jealous of other people interacting with me. She knows I suffer quite a deal but doesn’t know how to help. She wakes me up with a paw to the face because it’s been 3 minutes since the alarm went off and I haven’t fed her yet. She lies on her back when she knows she’s been chewing on something she wasn’t supposed to be chewing on. I adore her. But mind you, it has been difficult! She drives me up the wall when she doesn’t let me interact with other animals… or people for that matter! Or when she steals the balls and then eats them. But she is a patient little one. She throws a fit when I tell her “dinner later”, because she understands what that means. She tilts her head when I pet her ear, almost as if she was saying “I really love this and I love you”.

She is not my first adult pet. Before I had 6 rats, all named after foods, and a hamster. Oh, my Lemon. She was the best hamster I could have ever had; I learnt so much from her inquisitive nature, from her never giving up on discovering what’s beyond her world. And my six cheeky boys! I had breakfast with them, I let them run all over me until my skin was sore and red and I would smother those little shits to death.

But it would be a lie to say that my relationship with animals have always been so straight ahead. It is not a secret that I have been struggling with my mental health for a good couple of years now. It all seemed to come out of nowhere, but I knew it had always been brewing in the back of my head. It was time I faced all the trauma and pain I had felt; I couldn’t run no more.
Animals have helped a lot in my path towards self-kindness. But they have also been very difficult to deal with. The guilt of not having enough spoons to adequately care for my animals is a fear that never goes away. I often dream that I have forgotten about my animals for week and now they are starving and popping babies like crazy. I feel very guilty that my mental health doesn’t let me care for my animals to the level I wish I could. But I keep trying. I keep getting out of bed to feed my dog, I keep feeding the pigeons, swans and squirrels whenever I can. And I keep learning from my relationship to them.

17 nov 2019

I am crying
being so grateful
for the me that I was
for the parts I had lost

— forgotten memories —
All the pain I went through
All the love that has gone    
All the people I met              
turn the reality away
What is it that it was?
What is it that it is?


Today I stand strong
with washed memories on my face
the present melting into the past
(just for a little while)          
And I've come to nurture my teen self
for all the self-doubt that follows my way;
this is to being that friendly giant
a true shadow of what was to come
for that eager vision cast upon the distance
hereby I answer this calling onto myself:
I love me,
I love you,
never lose your way.
The colours of the eyes
melt the sky
into different shades of

black, dark, blue
white, pale, sky

What are you pupils, John Doe?
Are they like the sun?

a mellow yellow

Are they like a deep sea?

darker and darker blue

The colours in the eyes
shine in all its spectrum
the lines become furry
the colours run wild
oh, you, my pastel baby
stay right there
so I can make a paint of you

15 nov 2019

I like your mind
its long
like a dachhund
(poor babies bred into sadness)
not like one of those broad thoughts
were you can see the end
but not where you go.
drunken nights
are not for petite ears
like my thoughts on Syria
or Hong Kong.
So many conflicts
when will it stop?
fed by greedy hands
- even a pacifist will want to stop
but this is not the role we play
watching from afar, 
                     into the haze
'Uh! Christmas is coming!'
'so many deadlines to do!'
but what happens
with the lives of those
at the end of the rope
they cannot hold no more
we
are
pushing
them
over
the
board
.

C'mon baby
lie here with me
the sea won't attack you
as long as you're in my dreams

I'll take care of you
,darling, 
with all the length of my mind
and when we reach the cataracts
I'll make a draft with my sheets

We'll go on flying:
                           over the forest of thought
                            through the sea of clouds
Where will we arrive?
When will we go?
Only we know.

15 ene 2019


it builds up
like carbon
inside the earth
and you feel the
volcano of emotions
in your chest

reach the edge
of your skin
and with an awareness
of such heat
which burned like
sulphur against the soul
(now
             lifts
                      like
                              light)


This, this eruption of life,
all its fire and feathers
float down to
the hands that we greet
and the faces we meet

the sudden un-corruption
of the self
transformed in a 
beam of life
sparks through the
ceilings of the head
and dizziness fills
the room of the brain
(could as well be happiness)

Find yourself dancing
to the tunes
                    of the love
                  of the life
from a surprised volcano.



-Gabriella Haus Zimmer & Harry Parks

9 dic 2018

About to cry in the library,
                             yes

What a peaceful place for
all my beasts to become untangled
scream, shout your ears out
the silence will eat you 
alive
starting with your 
insides
while you show a calm smile


WHAT CAN I DO?
AM I GOOD?
words dripping out of
my brain
me trying to hold onto them
desperately

...
un, dos, tres
take a deep breath
let this place become
a calm space again
let the words leak,
maybe they will 
come home después

you will be fine
let go of the stress
sip in the place
land at home
be one with them.
liberty in the library
love in the lifts
language in the lost 
rifts of time
perdu in the tenses
of the mind

kinds of thought
soft,
lie inbetween the leaves
that I'm forgiving
bless,

less of the new troubled I
flee quick to the shores
of the momentary light
that bring home
the required roam
...
delicate
suspended
temporary



-Gabriella Haus Zimmer & Harry Parks

4 dic 2018

[Privileges / Privelages]

Privileges / Privelages ]

*Misunderstanding the sheet of
EMBlematic nonsense...
(drivel) of
the misguided many
turning the wheels
 CRAC, CRAC, CRAC 
tightening the rope
around the neck of the raw
||  FRAC, FRAC, FRAC  ||
deep into the earth
where the hidden gold
sweats in the tears of the little rich 
the little rich
[man]
[men]
[mans]
 [mens]  

  OPEN YOUR EYES! 

no more little rich
[man]
[men]
[mans]
 [mens]  
let kindness pour into the cracks
of the system
     щ  щ   щ
keep your actions at bay
cut the stitches off
FACE THE TRUTH!

Quoting the nose of the Enlightened: 
"Aside the SPIRE SCAR
whose fire
marks from where the
pale-faced-pavement leaeaters
HAVE FLED"

(Quoting with static eyes whose passivity
shall bleed at our river of empathy)
take a deep breath
. . . 
strip the tears away
lead the march on
LEAD THE MARCH ON



-Gabriella Haus Zimmer & Harry Parks

"I tried to eat potato wedges meditatively"

I tried to eat potato wedges
meditatively
(potato wedges)
raisins falling off the edges
into the
                slacks
                     of
                                 time
(raisins)
mines of thought
into a soft fruit
sea
yet I can't find
the words
to tame the starch
of thee
minds of thick skin
in a crocket coup
collapsed
(collapsed)
back into the
                   slacks
                       of
                                  time
wedges,
they are just
FINE
raisins, nonetheless,
are
BEST.


-Gabriella Haus Zimmer & Harry Parks



16 ene 2018

Starry Boy (1st draft)

Darkness shines through your pores but
the second the moonlight hits your skin it's like you're made out of stars.
Your true nature comes out to play,
I stand there, paralyzed by your unknown beauty.
You look back at me, disconcerted,
totally unaware that you are shining like the sun.
You touch me; I'm surprised by your warmness
- that doesn't burn like a star -
(but it seems eternal nevertheless)
I shelter under your hug,
suddently turned into a
s l e e p i n g  b a b y;
lying on the bright side of your moon.

16 abr 2016

Hereby I present the reason 
of my resent:


a stone in my chest
by night,
the axe through my dreams
Chop, chop, chop
cold running
s t a t i c .


I peel you off
every night
Dear abrasive skinned thoughts
You crawl back in your black velvet.
Like a baby growing in my head
you kick
hard, strong


The sky is so bright today
and you pull from my chest again
dear baby: 
don't do this again.
and in this homemade darkness
I watch the birds fly
in peace I recall the relentless gravity 
that pulls me to escape from you:
surface the sea


Hereby I stand
as the flying fish.

https://thepalerook.com/portfolio/flying-fish/
photo by The Pale Brook.

He aquí mi resentimiento
el ahogo de las noches
la furia desatada de la ansiedad
Corriendo, 
el 


no


saber.


Desátote de mi y te arranco de mis sienes con el dolor de mil titanes
como una piel que palpita:
Vuelves arrástrandote en mis sueños
Persiguéndome por las esquinas
" no se escapa "


Subo alto y tú me bajas
y acongojado, abrigado en el fondo del abismo
me pregunto si vería el cielo
si no fuese por tu impulso 
de la gravedad retransmitida
en el ansia de flotar. 
Salir del mar.


Acá me presento como un pez arlequín.

20 nov 2015

Qué oxidadas tengo las manos de escribir, parece que se han quedado bajo la lluvia un invierno entero. Tantos emails oficiales, ensayos escolares y currículums profesionales han taponado mi arteria poética con colesterol del malo. Habrá que ser saludables otra vez y escribir sano y bonito; que la inspiración no me falte.

15 sept 2015

 

«Depuis que je suis petit, j’ai une espèce de maladie : toutes les choses qui m’émerveillent s’en vont sans que ma mémoire les garde suffisamment »

                                                                                         -Jacques-Henri Lartigue (1965)

21 jul 2015

Rober Herraiz lleva seis años desayunando tormentas. Tiene unas skills máximas para mantener la calma en tiempos de guerra. Dicen que su secreto es que él mismo se ha convertido en tormenta, y por eso sientes una tranquilidad vaporosa cuando te mira.

Rober Herraiz es un osito de nubes de tormenta: ligero, calmado y penetrante. Su eficiencia pasa desapercibida entre tanto caos, pero si tienes la paciencia de prestar atención, podrás oír la paz absoluta en su taza.

Rober Herraiz era un niño tranquilísimo, quién iba a decir que un día sería un dios de las nubes. Posee la niebla del misterio y la imponencia de los dioses que no son conscientes de su influencia.

Gracias Rober, por tu desapercibida eficiencia,
                         por tu imponente paz,
                         por ser la calma en la tormenta.

6 may 2015

Crying during an exam and being comforted because exam period is hard and everything will be just fine. But PLOT TWIST: the girl is crying for beauty  and the realization of time passing.

what you didn't take into account is that the girl is taking
a philosophy exam.

29 abr 2015

Teenage years are sliding through my fingers.