He watches the moon and feels the blood rushing through his head.
It starts, an explosion of causality.
No way back on this merciless expedition.
Only the destination keeps its value.
A breeze comes up from the east, invisible tongues lick his face. It turns to night. The sand underneath his naked feet has lost all previous warmth. The chill tickles. Seconds succumb in symbiosis.
The marram grass rustles against his arms, the warning of a friend.
He feels the fire of candles burning in his bowels.
Feeling comes. No escape.
Surrender the only art.
There is light.
From inside out.
Something fluttering in earliness.
Reverberated and repeated endlessly.
The lonely game of gods.
Consciousness.
Light. From inside out.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC
Danaë
we share the same roots
thrive in sacred soil
unbounded by frontiers
and the countless prisons
of this lethal reasoning
Danaë
in you I find the echoes
which invalidate my voice
the silence between my snares
the precious flower in my snow
sometimes I wanna escape with you
like wild luscious hounds
Danaë
for you I hide in vain
the soft scars of my wounds
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC
sparkle of light, human being
this appears to be our sharing
inventing terms like cartoonofobia
and abortion tourism
endlessly debating about the sense
of everything and eventually
having to conclude that
everything is senseless
here where corporations profile
themselves as being ethically correct
as if another alternative should exist
and we should praise them for it
here we are but wandering a bit
shoreless in the alliance of shadows
human being, grow into a fire
to consume all ignorance
and please, for a change
give yourself a long harsh glance
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
circles I am
getting smaller maybe
endlessly pouring in myself
the flooding of the dirt that hides the lotus
there is no sense in denying
everything worthwhile
is fragile
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
you exist like a pendulum
everything pushes you
- everything.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 4:16 PM UTC
we are the footprint
of an unfathomable
supreme being
this writing a desperate scratching
with naked nails in a pressure wound
we blast breaches into time and space
happiness may be volatile
but not in vain as long as we
reflect each other’s inner light
and only today are we really alive
for only today can be taken away from us
the animals remain innocent
they are brought in front of our court
slaughter cattle guilty for not being human
this lifelasting denial
an oh so unjust silence
once we will have to finally
pay the toll for our sinister fate
the first time and the last
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
betrayed czar
tsunami
ear cut off
free fisherman forced back ashore
prince mumbling revolution
forgotten ice age
driftwood stagnating like a forest
on the slope of a mountain
sound of a harp slightly out of tune
carried by cello’s of cedarwood
envy of a ***** teenage girl
dreaming of love but forced
to stay with her hardworking parents
shy painter of nudes shivering
and hoping to fade himself with paint
seed carried to a new continent
by a lost bird
catching the penultimate fish
these things decide our humble history
before we perish
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 12:56 PM UTC
the joke of spurted *****
sticks to her smooth skin
spider silk waiting for
some long-lost splendour
her eyes puddles of misfortune
full of double layers and his flames
violently demanding refuge spurred
by a heart taking hold of hers
somewhere
behind the human stench
a man must live
to gently grow old with
until nothing but the essential remains
small and slow and helpless
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
fly sweety
your eyes were made for wandering
but please stay homesick
for your bed will always be made
just in case you need some warmth
my fridge will hold your favourite fruits
I’ll keep them fresh forever
and according to the gravity of your mood
I have red and white wines to ease the night
countless candles and I’d love to make a bonfire
if ever you’re in need of light
for your heart I’ll be a refuge
even if you flew
out of sight
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
there isn't all that much to worship
but the long fingers of some unknown
god granting us with melody
and meaning
or maybe this girl of my dreams
she sells sea shells by the slaughterhouse
a real diamond in the rough
saving dimes to escape from ****** mountain
I found truth in a forgotten library
the rise of the blue lotus
watered by the flooding of pain
dawn appears
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC