I look to the stars above who tremble,
Like ashes scattered over nocturne oceans,
The gaseous masses, afire and immeasurable,
And beneath the vast weight of oblivion
My mind all but crumbles.

Shining through the city's broken crystals
Beneath rusting lights,
There is one dwindling carnival
That delivers prizes to lucky fools.
That presents us images of bait and night.
That offers the floss we entangled with our teeth and pulls.
I'll bring to all men's attention
That when the dances and performances pass
After the tar dancers have paraded through,
After they have cascaded over and faded away,
There will be a final puff.
Yet once as I slept and could not close my eyes
I dreamt of a movie
Where our hero passed the shadows of doubt
And out of the woods would join with joy to a ruckus circus
Of bright unfolding colour, glamour and levitating decor,
And dreamt when I was so tired
That I thought it could be true.
But I know in the day, the carnival will convey itself away,
Leaving only land for toil and broken soils.



I see a man, his hair a circling smoke
That reflects light in a twisted silver lining,
And with September I almost awoke.

I will hear the charming tolls of a celesta
Muffled through a cellar door,
Taste tar like cigarettes regretted on deathbeds
Know the colour of noire decor,
That comes after the final door.

Afterall, we are a gilded horizon,
No more than the dawn of all our days,
And dusk of all the shadows sent away,
Those seldom remembered then forever forgotten.
A lily lurches across the sky towards us.
The void’s pulse continuous
Tick tock… tick tock…
              
Turn the hour glass and walk towards the shade.
Shuffling off with the feet of the reaper.
As though children who slide beneath black waves
Sift sand and shift, sink ever deeper.

They all fall to the bottom of the glass.
The sunken sun sets, soon she shall pass.
The gold must go, and all colour with it.
              Tick tock… tick tock…

Fermenting nature is already tasted.
Firmaments of Hell below are taken.
Every frivolous poem,
Superfluous word and superficial verb,
Every supernatural sound is said
And all the flavours of this tongue are tasted.

That is, if you underestimate those who wield our pens now.

If Shakespeare wrote all there is to write
Then I'll rise, I'll burn new stars into the sky.
I'll compose a new constellation
Of my name,
So every generation
Will know who's to blame,
And whose dead throne to bring praise to.

Spontaneously another human sprouts out.
Another hair in the beard of the Earth
Who greys, wanes and weakens.
Only there because they fester too fast
To be shaved off in waves of hurricanes.
Only there to catch food with greasy hands
And a greedy grips to grasp the lands.
Lonely where they spill out.
Homely where the hills represent
An Earth they push from the planet.

I tried to write Selah on my phone
But the machine corrected me with delay.
The word means rock, the word means stone.
It means wait and ponder,
It means ache and ruminate.
The word means dry thoughts in a dry bone.

Welcome to awake time.
Be disturbed by the peeping light,
Now night has shriveled and receded,
The hum of silent sleep ceases
And the thoughts no longer rhyme like
"Darkness reaches. Starless images."

Nine o' eight, you're definitely late.
It's just another note for mum's email.
Carbohydrates and fixing your tie on the way.
Punk rocks you from sleep again.
You have entered the shell with hives within.
You smell brick and baritone existence.

Classical music puts you to sleep.

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Begin stirring machines,
Burn eyes of mine.
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
We are coughs
On the cusp of dust.
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
Awake then asleep again
Sing and dance since the songs going to just
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
ნუ იდარდებ მოკვდავს, ეს მთავრდება.
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
Nothing's delicate like a moment,
It's precious like a piano note
Precisely, perfectly preserved
But I can't keep the vital signs long.
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
ደስ ይበላችሁ ፣ አያስፈልግህም ፡፡
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
We don't deserve forever
Necesitamos más.
But we don't deserve the shards
Of broken time
In our soft eyes,
Or when it's pulverized
Like dust in our lungs.
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
แต่ออกมาเขาเป็นเพียงหนึ่งชั่วโมงของฉัน
ตอนนี้เมฆหมอกปกคลุมเข­าจากฉันแล้ว
زندہ زندہ زندہ چلا گیا۔
However,
We don't deserve forever together
And we don't deserve to never suffer,
But I'm not sure where in between
I think is just.
Like dust in our lungs,
We're dust mites, dust like
Specks of spectres.

ఫ్యూజ్ బర్న్స్
I asked an immortal
ఇసుక వస్తుంది
What he thought
ఫ్యూజ్ బర్న్స్
He taught us
"Don't worry mortal, this ends."
Pero queremos más.

Eggs?
Am I your Easter Sunday?
Your Christmas, or a second birthday?
When I say, 'No.'
Is it your fountain of youth that says so?

We have bled.
So the son is sacrificed
By knife and crucified.
So only the father and the phantom
Are left behind
Like ashes of the Sun.

Dad,
I know you sacrificed for my future
And learnt from your past
The scripture of your mind
And you fought until the last man
In your army of one.

Yet,
Do not decapitate
To put your head
On my shoulders of clay.
I will make your mistakes.
I will break your mountain stones.
I will ache the way you ached.
Then when your gone
Maybe I'll obey your bones.
But I will not suffer to surrender
To your commands.

Instead,
I will leave a mirror in my room.
So that afternoons from these days
I will be replaced
By the son you wished to see and say
"Okay."
Whisper soundlessly the phrase,
The words
You want to have heard.