Monday, April 28, 2008

loneliness:

a house:

a room:

a body:

a bed:

a book:

a look:

a mirror:

a fault:

a fear:

a tear:

a miss:

a lack:

a want:

a wait:

a star:

a far:

a s t a r:

a far :

a s t a r :

a far:

: : : : l o n e l i n e s s : : : :

a h y p e r s p a c e

j

u

m

p

that

just

never

ends:

Friday, April 11, 2008

lethargy

whew.
rows and rows of cars
cooked under the sick yellow;

what a day, eh?
...

oh,there comes
a tiny, filthy fly
looking for a hazy shadow.

see, the green insect, at last,
picks a metallic surface, red hot...

as the fly rests its sticky legs
eagerly rubbing the back two,
suddenly emerges on the surface of its eyes
a thousand reflections of the
huge fat ass - of a salesman
showing off to his lone customer -
crushing its mass like a glue.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

flawless victory (or, a vision in a dream. a fragment.)

an unrelenting ache
beset me, my stomach
all the supposed remedies failed
boil! burn! churn!:
a battered, defeated ship
in an ocean of fire

then I wade through
the haze of pain
to reach the handle
of the sword from the
floating bundle my poor ancestor
gave me...

as I lifted the steel blue sword
hushed the body of water
in a split of a second
then the erect came down,
seperating the liquid
penetrating my meat --

oh the sweet surrender...
oh the echoes of evaporation...
all around me,
the fetid waters' destruction
all of a sudden --

then, from the chasm came out and down
singular pieces of rotten emotion:
cut! crushed! crunched!
on the ground tingling
like little worms
trying to reach their hidden holes.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

game

played in a lane
with two persons;
the trick is
to go through
the mist in the middle
without hurting
the other's soul.

the winner is the one
who tricks the other one
into believing that
holding her breath
while going through
keeps her soul.

the loser is the winner
keeping the other's soul
with a stale intake.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

... walk ...

let's walk!
let's walk with friends on our both sides
let's walk - our heads held high
walk to the end of the night.

let's walk, while
pondering over the singularity of a finger,
and looking back for the remnants of our desires.

let's walk!
walk with the pride of the lion
and the nonchalance of the deer
and crane our weary necks...

let's walk!
walk through the hypocrisies of the spoken word
and open our mouths to be filled with the wind!

let's raise our feet to tramp on the so-called inevitable
and let's hope that we no longer feel
we are where our eyes are!

let's walk!
our heads held high
and our friends on both sides!

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Tricycle

One may try to fool you
That if you do the
Same things every day,
You will be trapped
In a cycle of routine on earth,
And live an insignificant life.

Let me say something:
This is an utter lie.

Okay, there is a cycle,
But it is not cemented
To the ground of life.

There is the cycle, then
There is you in it;
But the cycle is not
Lying on the ground,
But perpendicular to life.

So you are in the cycle
Standing perpendicular
On earth.

Oh, earth.

Oh, yes!

Then! Start!
Do! The! Same! Things! Again –
And – again and come on and roll and
Move your hand, move your mind,
Move your feet, eat your meat,
Let no cheat
Make you weak!
Read your book
Kiss her cheek,
Let no cheat
Make you weak!
Or do your job,
Move your feet, throw your
Steps and throw your legs and throw your heart
And do it and again – and – again,
Let your legs push the cycle!
Let your hands propel it forward!

Feel an unlike wind
Behind your eager ears?
See how it changes,
The scenes of life?
Feel the cycle
Advancing like a heavy lance

On earth?

Yes, earth.

The cyclic earth.

The round earth.

The same earth.

The one that lives
The one that feels
The same with you.

So.

Feel that the malfunction
Is not in doing
The same thing?
That it is about
How and why you do it?

Then, do not believe
That one above, in his vicious circle,
Devoid of life,
Full of lie.


Tell him:

We are not mice
Trapped in devices,
But partizans
Hurrying to the end of time,
With our winged sandals!

Monday, July 30, 2007

Blindfold

Help me!
Help me!
I no longer can see –

I cannot find
My tongue
My mouth
My teeth

Help me!

I cannot cut
My hair
My nails
My dreams

Help me!

All I’m left is
A finger
A paper
A saber

Help me!

I must see
I must scream
I must be clean!!!

Help me!