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Zizaloom Aug 2018
If eyes could evacuate part of the sadness
Through tears
I would like to fill mine in a cup
And drink a sip every night before going to sleep
A time where my lids are hung up to the ceiling
And my ears deafened by the silence
The stars won't shine
And pools of salty water would soak the pillow
Or the bed
Or wherever my head would have landed
Turning, stopping, turning, knocking
Aspiring, hopelessly to come to an end
Assuming the best spot keeps the brain firmly closed
Thinking of that spot
I am still thinking
Depriving
And diving back into the loop
Scarlet roots pulsating  
Microscopic heart in each zone
Patches of darkness on every side
Gradually dipped into the abyss
Of auto-destruction
Drank enough
I knock on the crystal-clear glass
Droplets fall on the middle of my forehead
To the edges, temples
And melt with the dried, former crisped layer
The cup is desolated
I lay it on my face
Deranging the eyelashes
Spasms of fluttering
And I burst, into laughter
Giggling lava
The recipient quivers, trembles
And falls onto the solid surface
Where slightly before shattering
It stood, there, a micro-second, caressing the ground
It seemed the steadiness of it, did not like the gentle stroke
Or maybe the fine glass just harmed itself willingly
And I watched the splinters and fragments
Bouncing and covering
Breathing their last breath
Losing their transparent color
And I cried again
Willingly
Not only because I somehow helped the cup to brake
The floor starred
Little faces,
Grinning
Decomposing
All were mine
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Dandruff storm
Avalanche on the sofa of predilection
Hair string over hair root
By 3, by 5
We get stuffed in poisonous genes
And thym and broccoli
Rise and hate
Revolution against it all
Dream the dream
And zip your lips
Do not hum do not dare to
Irritation
Carrots in my hair
Mosquito bites all over
Sensitive skin
Which were maybe
Meant to be
Goodnight kisses
Pictures followed by gaps and spaces
Paces cover the backs and fronts
Just to make them seem divine
Shiver against the satisfaction
Of your own foolishness
And go wild
Trim, skating, framing the pines
Snow-covered inflammations
While it is in action
Rolling, lurching
At a couple of indiscernible numbers
Per hour
Soft clouds of lies
Covering mountain peaks
Blow hard enough
And then fall back
Slowly
Separating the air from the air
Take a sip
One last time
There is always
Something
Staring
Waiting
For you to fall
Holding on to grated cells
Just around the right corner
Zizaloom Oct 2022
Buried under thousand grounds
Flagellated on earth wounds
Holds deep inside it’s one moon
Baby bounds

Waves and tides, waves and tides
Sit on a the sands of a beach

Cycles of terror
Marginalizes the hour
Paper cards and stones
Blue, green, white like bones

One circle to round the mind
Look around and find
A scar
Futility

At the end the wind
Carries the soul
To the shade of the trees
And goes beneath to find
It’s root it’s eternity
Lusting creeping inside
A flavored dynamite child
The sun rises and time catches
The spinning of 365
Like eyes
In their orbits
We die
This planet peels the void
Our madness rottens it’s core
But we come from soil
And at the end
In wrath we boil
Mother swallow us
Again
With a blowing breeze
A….Men
Zizaloom Aug 2018
I eat my feelings in a spoonful of concentrated milk
Powdered milk
A pound of peanut butter
A bit of butter and sugar
Sugar, sweet sugar
Binge binge binge
Till my eyes become wet
"Eyorgasm" from food I collect
In my belly they move, they dance
Jibble, dribble, floppy cheeks
Sadness, deep as the hole I scrunched in the sand years ago
Repentance creeping throughout bread crumbs glazed atop shaky fingers
Glaze, pastries, oily eyelashes trembling, drizzling wet puddles of salt
Drowning, me, sorrows into the ocean I've become
Drowning, still, incomplete, a worm, floating in and out of my ears
From right to left, right to left, right left, left, left, right, left and then
Lighting strikes ten thousand miles from another sphere
Half of a worm gets stuck in the rear
Realisation (Trak! Poom! Pow!)
Je suis une pomme pourrie
Zizaloom May 2019
Loneliness leaves bread crumbs along
The trail
Careless slack skin
Bells on strings
We beggars spilling soft glossy eyes
Unto
Palms of grime
Pierced by silver coins
Gold memories tossed by the blind
Fall in droplets on our toes
Could only pick them up
By bending
Kneeling
Begging
Beings in repentance
Cupping the sulfur
Wrath wrapped into madness
Selling our flesh to the freedom of our souls
Skinless boneless nerveless
Tenderness still leaks
In vain
While fluttering moths
Die in a halo
Graceful rituals
Covering darkness with darkness
And sorrow still blooms
Seated in the seeds of vulnerability
To the slight sight
Of undeniable truth
Zizaloom Aug 2018
Would you understand a feeling you never felt?
There are different types of sadness
Multiple reasons to shed a tear
Uncountable causes to flush into sobs
And still you want to know, you would like to understand
But even if you did, you would not
You are not in my head
And thus you find it easy for me to run away from a monster
The monster is a tick
It plunges it's way through your brains, parasite
Eating your nerves from the inside out
Till you don't feel anything anymore
A slap on the face is a poke on the shoulder
Sweet words taste like sand paper, just like another thousand curses
Sand paper, cardboard
You could crush my head between two rocks
Bath in the midst of my red blood
And still I would laugh at you
Not a genuine laugh
A static laugh, lifeless
My blood would giggle
My smashed eyes would stutter
My teeth would dance in a circle
And my scorched lungs
Would squeak and squeak
Till both of your ears go numb.  

The monster still hides beneath a pile of broken bones
Lift one here, another there
The world stops spinning
As you narrow your eyes against the glare
Zizaloom Dec 2018
I do not feel that I do not feel anything but rather everything
I extend my arm and loose it throughout desolation, in the rubble of boredom
I am not sure anymore whether I am a member, an exuberant thought
Face the world with frail limbs and get carried away with the wind
The wind itself does not cling anymore
The impression of printing a platonic sensation on the invisible layer of existence
To lurch upon endless paragraphs
Fill oneself with words and redeem unknown memories
To sell them in the moment of freedom
To evacuate the ashes of a past
Which is known, which is not sealed
Behind sewn lips and barbed wire
Zizaloom Jan 2019
It is in the similarity and in wonder
Facing our absurdity
That we choose the difference
Or if it is not the difference
A reversal of the way
A divergence
Noticing the futility
A sudden glitch of us in the other
Decision taken
Evolve into something that is not similar
With the change comes a certain sense of
Loneliness
The price of difference to be grasped
At the bottom
The abyss of remorse
There must be an essential gap
It spreads
It is contagious
The joy of living
A spacing so that some might be able
To consider our limpidity
Wanting to be worth something
While disappearing
Past the curtains of misfortune
Most of the time it is just a fly pretending
While landing on one of our knees
Notices us or makes us believe to have
Noticed our presence or absence
Then set behind the horizon
Your hair burns in a bright glare
Losing sight of your sight
Going beyond the highest layer
Of the atmosphere
Where no fruit-fly is allowed to tip
The concavity of their net eyes
There is where
We are finally lost
In a collapse of consciousness
A submergence of bitterness
Understand oneself too much
Aware, beware
And then
It is not abandonment nor despair
It is the inconvenience of weariness
The flatness of nothing
No longer really carrying the importance
Of things on ones back
Since it is absolute blasting
The end of life and radiations
Become dull on the wheel
Always rolling all the way down
Heal
From the atrocity of being
At last
Finally dead-alive
Zizaloom Nov 2018
Drying out
Under your spit
You are not sprinkling my hair with dew
I am not the flower
Concave lenses cover the cornea
A patch of salted water
Blurs and blues
Upon weaknesses
What am I here for
What are you here for too
Maybe if we hung ourselves
Where bright lights shine
The sorrows would dip their heads
In a *** of boiling sand
Stale sweat stains
A smell one flick away
Still emanates
Through the pores or upon skin
Presence presents itself
Stands, facing a blank wall
Reflecting the mirrors reflection
Where am I
Knocks resonate through dirt stained knuckles  
I know
I knew
Glass is boiling
Sand is forming
Crystallizing
Breathing breathing
Quicksand
Where sheer filamented fly wings
Are reaped under burdened black skies
Long forgotten, permanent
In trenches and creaks
Long, at last, lasting
They are wearing gravel capes to cover up the crimson-gray
Retire, land it over
Hand by hand
Wrists tangling shyly
Through the mist
To the sight of blind
To the mere sense of moths
Covered by an inch of dirt
Obscured and
Out of view
Zizaloom Nov 2018
Every moment we breathe through nostrils
In order to writhe our bodies a little more
Forgetting or probably intentionally
Desiring to erase
The inexorable certainty
That each and every sip
Takes us on a magic carpet
Steadily, gradually
Towards our expiration
Consume to
Consume yourself
Gulping down a squirt of sunscreen
Coating our brains
Pale-yellow light bulbs radiate
Make-believe
A puppet, faceless dancing
Restrained, squirming
Not being able to wipe off the mask
Painted faces with charcoal and wood splinters
Simply because we, and that is an embellishment,
Are no bigger
Than a dehydrated pea
Underneath
Zizaloom Sep 2018
Under splinters and droplets
I stood still
Top to bottom
Fidgeting from time to time
Under screams, over laughter
I stood still
Bent my head
My knees
Felt the water flowing
In between my toes
Was I real?
Was anything real at all?
Palms standing straight
Not half asleep, nor half awake
Palms open wide
7 and 7
Forming a triangle
Floating in the sky
On the pool's surface
Another world
Here
So close
So much more realistic than reality itself
******* inside nostrils
One, two
Jump before three
Splash.
Boring
Splash.
Circles forming, foam
Small, big, bigger and bigger
Eating the life away
Smudging it right out of the picture
A second later, a minute
It is back
Safe and sound
Yet it is not here anymore
It is not there
Not now
Not then
It is not real
In the world of
The following moment
Zizaloom Aug 2018
Sad and then not
Happy and then not
Lots of nots
I'm starting to rot
Not is the nothingness that has crept in my heart
Squeezing every blood vessel, bubbling bubbling red hot sauce
Scream scream, in the head
Skull cracks, knuckles of steel
Tasteless tongue like putrid meal
Melancholia , jungles of sorrows
Nothing nothing comes out of the window
Two windows once big and bright
No sun has shone through them since dusk
Dull and dull they start to fade
Their shutters are no longer solid to hold
They break and break and still they stand
On a hair as thin as thin string hair
Look through these holes and you will see
The not, vacant, blue empty sea
Of a fisher who had once believed in his dreams
And caught a thousand fish, fish fishing spree.
:)
Zizaloom Dec 2018
Is  immortality infinite?
For ever stretches till the absolute
Until ever
Is there and end to the never
A strange unknown variable
An absence of probability
Leads to endless possibilities
As long as it is living
It is immortal
Do not know when the culmination stops
Comes
When it goes
Cluelessness leading to an abolition
Of fear
Or an accumulation
A big ball crushing
Certainty, a sense of security
When it comes it is the end of us
As flesh and bones
And blood and stones
In the gut
Depending
On water and minerals
Our bodies decompose
In death
Energy stands still
Limitless
Organic matter has it's expiration
Holding on to salvation
Pathetically turning blue
Ears, tongue and toe
Being here somewhere
Never fading or disappearing
Because of the anonymity
The sheer dominance
Of nothingness and vacancy
Condescending into bigger
Things
That might never grow small
Zizaloom Nov 2018
Swinging on the tip of the tongue
Deprived of sanity
Loneliness because they see and hear
But do not feel a presence
Near the back
In front of the rear
Location is unlocated
In the middle of the lifespan
You sway away to the melodies
Of your mothers cotton like voice
Trembling not knowing
If it is mommy or the wind
Big, vast, extended
Desert abandoned
You are the desert and the sweltering sand is in you
In your ears
In your stomach pleats
In the hollows of your cheeks
And you pour water
But forget to drink
So you spill raw
And crisped sorrow
In these caves
Just inside your cheeks
Invisible oceans of
Rust and salt
And you touch but do not feel
You forget to feel as soon as you sense
The moment dies as soon as it stands up
On its third heel
And you are locked up
Imprisoned in oblivion
Inside the hollows of your cheeks
And you scream deliver me! Deliver me!
Mommy
I am here!
Inside of you, deliver me!
But she is no longer here herself
So you cannot be there too
So you dive back to where you came from
To where you were before
To where your mommy resides
To where we don't even remember ourselves anymore
Zizaloom Sep 2018
Skin over fat over muscle over bone
Lashes fall, hair falls too
Teeth fall
******* droop
Skin crackles
Eyes tire
Fingers crumble
Too much time left, no time at all
Bone inside skin mushed with fat stored in muscle
Guaranteed recipe to drool
Bottles of wine and sparkling water
Big salad bowl is what you are in lunacy
Crystal clear from the outside
Inside inward outward
Lost in direct directions
Entrails wrapped around the neck
Snaking under the satin cloak
Forming bumps and jiggly jello waves
Insides are alive in perpetual motion
Betraying your own self
Killing what was left
To build a new something
A brand new anything
Out of scratch and debris
Out of blood and kneecaps
Out of arteries and vessels
Ties and knots
Stabilizing the masterpiece
No brains remains
A happy catastrophe
Zizaloom Sep 2018
I swim alone at night
I walk alone on the night streets
I stare at my reflection in puddles on my own
I wipe my snot with no one's offering to help
I look at the sky and see the clouds moving and dissipating
I look at the trees and their green leaves
I look at my feet and see my socks
I look at the four walls surrounding me
I count the stars perched on the ceiling
I look at the door and read all of those little doodles
I look at my hands and see nothing but skin
My memories run in a circle
Around my rotten core
No more superpowers
I search my brain and get lost in the void
I pinch myself
To test
To see
To feel
To search
For a nerve alive
For a spark
Proof that I am still here
That I am not dreaming
That this is all tangible reality
It is reality
But purely misty
It is an upside-down abstraction
Disturbingly relaxing
So I let go
And melt
I am a candle in the heat
And
I melt
Anger and rage
I am steaming froth
Fragile, shattered snowflakes and melted soul
Boom! Boom! Explosion!
I am a dried corn seed, popping over exhaustion
Resisting resistance
Through the mist
Moisture sets itself on my burning bones
It is cold now
Way to cold
My entire wax being solidifies
Into a lacquered puddle of goo
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Screams are maybe the only way
To pierce the ears and make them bleed
You never hurt when you beat or slap
Just a high pitched note
Born from one of the vocal cords
And you drown in your own integrity
Thinking you are full
When you are a lack
Seeing yourself big
As you are
Smaller than your own existence
Thinking you are
When you are
Nothing
But the fists and cuts
The rage boils and is spilled unto
Coil and wool
Burning wool
And cashmere
And a lot of somethings
Animal you are
Sweet and full filled with reason
Beat the drops
Beat the heat
Beat yourself
Beat them all
Beat your fists against the wall
Does it help
Adrenaline is moving you
And you are moved
To another place
Another feeling emerges
You cannot help but not think
You cannot help but not cease
So you are
And you want to stop
So why don't you do
Helo helo
Ask for help
From other people crazier
Than you
Which cloud is your favorite cloud
Which color is your favorite color
Categorize yourself
In order to be labeled
And classified
And unforgotten
In order to stretch and
See
Through time and space
I am this
I like that
What you like
What you are
I see
I hear
I feel
It is enough
Eyebrows raised
Eyes gleaming
Shivering quivering
Just the feeling
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Flatten your choices
On your palm
And read them quietly
Choices chosen by a thousand titans
Choices as small as a raisin
Big as a nut
Swallowed with a cup of petroleum
And a paste of carbon monoxide
High high
You became him,he became her
And she becomes you
Striving for uniqueness
Individuality
Perspicacious convenience
Comes out of absurdity
And boredom
Creating a filled circle
Which is a spiral
Over a spiral
Doing what you do
Sudden glitch
And you loose the pen
The drawing becomes a hurricane
Of madness
But at least
You found something new
Something half complete
Or half full
Rusted steel grinding
Scissors cussing
Cutting
Making it's way through your tongue
Through the pages and papers
Dividing it into
Two
Exact half
Hissing
Against the other half
Turning your ear-drums
Into a fiasco bombardo
Get out of your body
Through the pores
Mucus
And see
Without anyone's pressure
Pressing their thumbs
Upon your lids
Zizaloom Sep 2018
Laying on the ground somewhere
Though I don't really suppose it's the where I am intended to be
Is it, or not?
Music, music, music
And I feel so tiny
Teeny-weeny
The finest flake of sugar
I do not feel my fingertips
Nor the top of my toes
I'm frozen, on a hot summer day
I'm not melting
I do not think I'm here anymore,
Peculiarity fills the cavities
Of my unconsciousness
I am
In a stranger's body, in a stranger's room
On a stranger's fuzzy floor
I hear voices, whispers above the paces
Melodies
I recognize these sounds, their presence
Yet I feel unexistent at that specific time
In this determined place
Drifting, twirling
Hazy hazy day
For a moment,
Just a moment
A glimpse
Then, as small as I am
Ants round up around my crystallized edges
And bring me back
Where my eyes
Fall and fall into a void
Where my ears see popping vivid colors
Blinding
Where something dries itself just under my nose
Where my fingers are in motion again
And the tip of my toe draws circles of vapor on the hose
Zizaloom Sep 2018
What is it we are
When we are not?
When are eyes are firmly closed
Held tight by the pressure of the night
Setting itself on our minds
Making us yawn
And driving us to think  
That it is time to sleep
What are we in the dreams
We never grasp in the lapse
Of Time our minds race
Against the clock to store
What we long for and think of
Throughout the day we see
The light and all the dust
Dancing in a ray
Emanating out of pillows
And couches as soon as our weight clasps
And we fail to catch
And our hands go past
And we do not remember
The gravity of such
A waste of hastily
Floating particules
Just as much as our cerebral activity
Goes on a never ending cycle
The vicious circle
A train that goes round and round and round
Stops on the usual platforms
Embarks all of the familiar faces
Closes it's doors on strange noses
The rails squeak and whirl
Speed up to maximum speed
Speedy Gonzales
And you are out of the dark gloomy woods
The forbidden paths
Where there are no signs
Are rarely taken
For granted
But when the engine has no choice
But to melt with the hollows
It cuts the road in two
And disperse itself in half of you
Your eyes go blank
And you wonder what felt wrong
Strangely clement
Yet you close your them backwards
For you never face these unknown noses too
They might mistake your head for an entire
map of the world
And they might have a clue
About what you might be
Or might be thinking about
Zizaloom Oct 2018
And when our backs are skimmed
And that the dull rain comes crashing down
Our shoulder blades in cascades and lips quivering, jingle bells
Play one of those symphonies, we never forget

And when we speak on a blue day just like the other days
And arms over head and hair tangling
You will bite the hook
Become mediocre and
Hollow in ebony
Look at the sky where we will find ourselves

The enamelled fruits
The fish twirling
Out of gentleness, out of modesty
From flippancy without rebellion
From appearing to being
And the being to appear
We will train ourselves in chains as we will be

It's the man who kills himself
Hanged by his ****** thoughts
Bruised by foolish happiness
And visions without life
At the bottom of the gorge
The color of a rose
The ravines and the good
The bad
And the people
Moans and mooing
A funny grazing cow
Falls and without shame
Gets up and guards
It's udder pink looks
Strange

Our backs are denuded
Sullen rain, Sabbath
Our shoulders clenched and frozen
Our lips covered in frost
Let us play one of these symphonies
The ones we never forget
Since the moment has marked itself,
And will disappear forever with the rain remains and rising winds,
As the end of our days
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Desire crept in the crease of my kidneys
Drowning in ***** and ammonia
I stank and still stink
Saw what could not be unseen
Covered by dirt, grit and grime
Squalid sewage
You dived in too
Head first
Or pretended to
And I saw water gleaming
And temper rising
And fever swelling, blistering, popping
Around the clock
You did not stop
And kept fidgeting and quivering
Singing and facing
Facts and faces
That were supposed to be stood up to
Big polished eye *****
And a neck three feet long
Watch than penetrate
The huge humongous pomegranate
A billion bubbly juicy lives
******* ******* the treasure fruit
Pearly pimples
Rolling earls
Sea shell pearls
One after the other
Cabbage carnage
Leaf under over inside leaf
What was left
A sack of straw
A mud-colored potato
And two carcasses made of sticks
Painted in cheap pink lipstick
Zizaloom Dec 2018
The sadness and languor of not grasping
Devour, taking pleasure out of the loom
From recklessness
When they disappear, become a whacked species
Failed in the misery of time
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Dead by now
Beat no more
Vacant vessels
Coagulation
Pallid wax figurines
Sharpened cheek
Outspread parted lips
Ultraviolet, green
No steam on windows
Nor on mirrors
Straight lined limbs
Electricity's velocity
Sparks have ceased
Relinquishing
Now
For ever, as it may last
Paces staggering in the stillness
Tip toe, tip toe, on the extremity
Of last words
Of last sounds
Behind the lights hid also a light
Bright from outer space
Veiled by artificial power
Waved a thousand dragonflies
Crickets and mosquitoes
******* the last bulb
Out of ephemeral euphonies
The jingles
Were nothing more than
Bzzzz and crit crit crit
Tear drops fused with dew
Chances to say
None left
Buckets of drooping consonants
And syllables
No more reaping
Quick sand slipping
Down under
The bed of nightmares
Freshly baked sheets
Right out of the oven
Armpits over heat
A shot
And shattered glasses
Crooked and broken eyelids
Fingers in an earthquake
Face to face
With the mirror
The ashes
Twist and twirl  
Roaring agonizing
Against the flames
Zizaloom Sep 2018
A bite of the nail
Three heartbeats
A stare then a glare
Four more
An empty parking lot
And flashlights
Blazing
Across the dust
A flicker of the lash
Doom doom doom
Again and again
Something swifts
Something drifts
Clockwise
In an unperceived motion
Something throughout the molecules
And particules
Underneath the thin air
Slightly above the tire prints
A feeling in the gut
In the brain
In the heart
Aghast by the ghostly ghouls
Shivers
Travelling
Through every pore
Unsnarling
Little towers on the back
On the neck
Molten faces
Figures
Mannequins
Melting
Molasses
Everywhere
A sick kind of sweetness
Strangling
Suffocating
With a smile
As wide
As the door
Opened
On the second floor
The one
That was never shut
That one
People claimed was open
Specially
Ocaisonally
But was only just broken
Zizaloom Mar 2019
What have I lost
To grief the death upon your tomb
In friendship with love could we have
correlated apart even before the end
Everything else is masked with foul gestures
What body did you point your finger towards
dust that has landed in our bowels
You spoke and I heard my own voice, cleaned thought
When you said yours I said mine
There was no for you or for me
That is what I captured a little too late
And by separating us from each other
We ****** ourselves with eyes empty
With sweet words
We spluttered on soft grounds
Zizaloom Sep 2018
The sun sets and rises
From earth's perspective
Drink a cup of water
Wear the left shoe
Then the right sock
Put some lipstick on
Or shave the little prickling hairs
Go to school, to work
Come back
The light dies
Some die too, momentarily
Others try to
Until the void disappears again
Momentum
And the vicious circle has us all
Trapped, caged in between it's knuckles
Was it destined to be?
To go on
Try to change and the world rages against you
In the shape of a flame, with shattered sharpened teeth
Devoured and mourned
Tears are spilled above rusty tombs
Go back to where you came from
Or take another step into oblivion
Enter the darkness again
Or a room splashed by billions of suns
So many
That every little dark patch merges with each beaming corner
The hollows are hard boiled eggs
White
So shiny, so bright
So full of blankness
Blinded by the similarity
That looks like that looks like that
Luminosity rushes throughout the corneas
To the brains, travelling on neurons
Rush of brightness
Concussion
Loss of stability
A smirk, a wink
You die
No more probability
Everything drops to zero
And the sun rises again
Zizaloom Nov 2018
Pavements made for pedestrians
Are covered with nothing but slight shadows
Walking on the edge
Fall off a 5 centimeter cliff
Into puddles of delicate magma
Laugh it off
Stand back straight
Up high
Head almost
But not enough
Touching the clouds
Doves are weeping above the mist
Olive branches in strands of destruction
Connotations amassing
Dynamites, pop. Pop.
Tasting feathers
While high frequencies slash eye globes with blades
Cuts above the hay
Vibrations penetrating
From anywhere
Whisk the brains
Look at the hands
look at hers
At his
Grin, frothing, grilling, flaming
Fading into dullness
Feeling water digesting
Eyes batting, lashes flowing
Chest rising up and falling
Down
Where knees are popping
And knuckles white and rose
And skin, so much of it
And eyes, so many of them
Joints activated with oil
Squeaking! Squeaking! Squeak!
Purposeless
Terribly terribly terribly
Girdled and not
Alone
Zizaloom Aug 2018
Am I two?
Am I one?
At both of my hands, I stare
With both of my eyes
I walk with both of my feet
I think with more than a brain
Burst!
Brain
Melt!
Crack my head open
Leave me here and go there
Evaporate into the atmosphere
Burn me to the ground
Let me turn to ashes
Let me be part of the wind
I could merge in between billion different
particules
If I concentrated hard enough
You, me, Jelly matter, would concentrate too
I would freeze, I would forget, I would turn crazier than my crazy sanity
It's a spiral, a never ending circle,
It goes on and on
There is no gravity
In what I've become
No steadiness
No platform
Nothing to hold on to
Everything is abstract
I'm floating in a world of black bubbles
Or maybe the bubbles are transparent
My dark, scary world
Soft, foam, everything dissipates to the touch, to a glare
A single deep breath intake, inhale the whole world, bare
Too much of me in me
Less of me outside of me
Raw vocal cord, sore gut
A belly button, turning, dancing
Crafting it's way through shapeless bones
To where?
Where from?
Where to?
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Whose hands am I in?
Right now
Right now
Feet in the shoes
But whose hands am in?
In the hands of my brain?
On tendons and nerves
Jungles reacting
Reaction and swinging
On the branches of my eyes
Whose face is it?
It is the reflections face
Or mine
Is this me
Is this what I breath through
Is that what I raise in surprise
Is me this
Is me that
I have to know
I need to know
If this body is mine
Or else
This is a cage
a box
A cube
Four walls, the ceiling and floor
Am I standing on the ceiling
Is my head facing the wall?
In altitude I start swimming
Jump and float
Here I am
Found myself
In the corner
And now the world is upside-down
She is smiling and tears are dripping over her forehead
He is picking up his pen and birds are flying backwards
To the ground
Hitting
Smashing
Pumpkin
Seeds
Everywhere on the ceiling
Everything is held by the joints
With stainless steel made in china strings
No screws in my kneecaps
Elbows in straight lines
Pulled by the gravity
My eyes get ****** out of their sockets
And I fall backwards, too
Where everyone is screaming and laughing
Well I don't know how to talk and explain,
From right to left
From finish to start
In perfect order
Like they do
Zizaloom Dec 2018
Peculiar speckled stones
on my lids, in them
When eyes are locked and closed
See yellow see yellow
Vision obstructed
Beams of sunlight slicing, sharp blades
Grasping before dusk
What was left to see
The carpenter shrugged, shook his rug
Early at night, late in the morning
Half of the worms underneath
Underneath underneath, far
Were crying soil and cinder
Flesh puncturing
The depth turning black
Boiling magma farthest point
Unreachable destination
Could it be a goal
Could there be a path
Is there supposed to be one
Dislocated elbows
Shoulders fractured twice
To remember to remember
Atmosphere in the womb
Trapped in a jelly fish
Ashore under the heat
Blaze scorching
Melted slime in the ears
Think you are fading
Disappearing to the world
To everything and everyone
No body prints on the sand
No scratch of jelly fish
Gleaming through water
You were here before
You were here then
You were
When is now?
Zizaloom Sep 2018
Sing sing to me again
Lullabies would sooth my ears
My hair would soften back
Sing sing to me again
À la claire fontaine
Milk used to slide down my throat
Used to, used to
Play with your nails
That would sooth my nerves
Oh mami, sing sing to me again
Maybe I would sleep
Your tender tender voice
Makes me cry and weep
I would recall those years
I used to rest my eyes
Wake them up again
And see the world
Painted with colors
Stuffed with glee
Like one of the big bright toys
I used to sing along with
You used to sing along with
Oh please sing to me one more time
I hope to wake up one day
In the midst of the hay
I would look up at the sky
And watch these birds fly high, so high
They would seem to pierce the stretched end of our end
And your voice would echo through their beaks
A thin needle would set it all on fire
Reflecting the last melted rays of sunlight
I would smile
And breath smoke through my nose
Fill my lungs
Till they go numb again
Till they deflate
And I would have nothing to do
But wait
For them to flatten and slacken
Like Dali's melting clocks
I would mistake my blurred vision with the dotted birds, with the blotches smeared upon your apron
The echo of your silence would never fade away
I would kiss the void, unclasping me from you
Knowing that it is finally time
Time to say goodbye
Zizaloom Jan 2019
You cultivate my being in a meadow filled with worms
A fortress of affection
Flimsily dancing with a turbulence
And a haze of power
Sample of distress and dominance
Planting tubes of lies inside nostrils
Often rejected
Spewed truth
******* up by a few contractions
A provocation leading to derision
Kneading with hands of bricks
The extremities are erected in straight lines
The corners rotten angles
I am spinning around in a square of loneliness
The world is flourishing in a sense of prosperity
Preventing a state of realization
Plunging in the shadows of cactuses
They drank my blood and water I drank too
Inhaling peace surrendering
Plate of bitumen layers of silica
Heaviness forms clumps of crow eggs
On the tip of my eyelashes
In the hollows of my memory
I still follow the movement of your shoes
with a sight and clattering rhythm
Your tracks will not be lost
Or covered by a skin of dust
Leaving abandonment
Destruction
In the tranquility of putrefaction
Under one of your footprints
Where ants stand on crutches
And dirt-scraping sugar cubes
Cover all the rubble
Zizaloom Oct 2018
A billion fingerprints on a dollar bill
Only wash the hands
After wiping forth and back
Habits accumulate and
Tend to follow
Or tend the rabbits
But anyway
The second path
Is always
Incommodious
And then from outer space
Half a flick of dust
Only palpable
In someone's memories
On someone's mind
Behind the eclipse
And the bright lights
Face to face
You are a block
Of organic matter
Stuffed with minerals and latency
A resonance in the air
Heavily drifting
One picometer above the ground
Hazardous vibes of tranquility
Are emanated by the frustration
Of fuzz
Covering the back and neck
Not being able to come to an end
Overextension
Where the point meets the previous point
The perfect angle
And a goosebump followed by goosebumps
Tend and stretch to reach
But all little fingers choke
Are tips of pint-sized bunnies
The color of mist
Zizaloom Sep 2018
There is no longer fear
Of the things that surround
When all and everything
Is a copy
An illusion
A vision
You perceive in you're own little mind
TV
The world is yours
The life is yours
Ruin it
***** it
Smother it with your puke
A care is not given
Until you make it seem
Like it is given
Personally
Do not take
Things your own way
Do not take things your own at all
Do not own
Just be
Without having do force the be
Without having to decorate yourself
With ornements and glitter
Be genuinely naked
Be bold and shimmer
With a coat of sticky sweat
Spread saliva on your chest
Show the world what you're worth
Nothing
Dust
Ashes
Worms
You are a worm
An eagle
And a tree
A cloud in the sky
The dazzling dark blue sky
But you are still nothing
Because you are so many things
And at the end
You are just a blank circle
Stuck pivoting
Faster than the fastest fast thing
Is the circle turning?
Inert?
Nimble platform
Stop
Zizaloom Oct 2018
Two frail circular spheres
With the membrane of a bubble
Hazily drifting above something somewhere
Life on the left
After life on the right
One is full
And the other empty
At the apogee
Of death
Or birth
Or rebirth
And redeath
In order to cease
In order
To stop
You need to be full, sheer and vacant
At the very end
You are condescend
Tangled and about to explode
You cannot contain anything anymore
You are pure yet full of rotten apples
You stink like sweetened milk and pepper
You go up up up
And down down down
Low
And then you are desolated
Full of emptiness
Inscrutable
Full of cavities to be fulfilled
Delusional
You loose all senses
And for a brief but vivace moment
Half of a glimpse
Something opens
And the bubble pees all of its essence
Something sweet
Musky oil
Infiltrating the fine globe
And you are half full
You decide to press the big bright red button
Both bubbles
Strangled
Collide
Eclipse
Open
Fade
Fuse
New
Free
Feral
And then
You simply
Are crushed in between
Two light, half-transparent things
Compressed
And you are a living
Dead
Alive half of the time
You cannot be more dead than you already are
Or more alive than alive
You have brutally cut the connection
The never ending 8
And you a drifting
Away
Far far far away
Into oblivion
Zizaloom Dec 2018
I wish I could run as fast as I could
But I keep telling myself I should
And than keep overthinking, never hitting
The striking point
Energy is split in two or three
I wish I never should
Think as much as
I could
Yet I do
And how do I know
These are not speculations
Not a thing is real
But then what is the meaning
Behind truth
Is it what we see
Materialisation
What we hear, what we feel
Is it us, our capacities to reach intangible realities
Introspection, conspiracy theories
Is everything a lie
But what is a lie
Is it the truth
Is it me, is it you
Is it nothing but a thing
Reflections, strands of words
Cantering letters
Flowering meaning
Seeds on tongues
Create, recreate accentuate
That is this,
This is that!
What is this
What is that!
Spell them right, flex your muscles
Harden your bones
Control your mind
Wireless remote
Press play
Resume again
Zizaloom Sep 2018
Let us bloom under the moonlight
Like withered flowers waiting patiently for their roots to grow back
For the night is the only time of the day
Or the day is the only time of the night
When life stretches itself and memories become vulnerable to the light
The eyes roll and turn
They strike face to face with the brain
In front of a thousand whispers
A thousand cries
Rotten kisses and gullible lies
Stroke a shell on the searing sand
Every little grain shivers against its neighbor
And the whole beach arouses to the perturbation
A stranger yet so inoffensive
But even microscopic acarines
Whirl in the wind of a sneeze
So before starting to snap your tongue on the roof of your mouth
Catch your words in your throath
And taste them
Guzzle
Do not forget their savor
Catch them fast
If you are not as swift as a tender breeze
You will swallow your own thick tongue
You will become your words
And these words will reflect you
A big satisfying outcome
How solemn would it be
To dance to the rhythm
Of your baked coal heart
Drumming on its cage
Zizaloom Nov 2018
Fall hard low down
Blow
Nose bleeds
Thunder lighting bolt
Eyes fuse in the midst
Of a spectrum
Piercing bleached visions
Spontaneous combustion
Fade to white than
Rot to grey
No use
Eosin paraffin
Beeswax and waxing cream
Falling head over heels
Over pineapple plants
Palm oil is sweet
Sweet is oily too
Touching the last dot
Turning lurching not
Ready to stump
Upon the toes
Of a lilac pissenlit
It flows, transforms! So far away
Come back or turn around
Comme hitting shoulder blades
Or last deflated lungs
Lonesome table
Lonesome trees
Standing crooked
Facing deeds
To be done
Or undone
The rope and tie feet two
Throw up your intestines
And wake up someone new
In or on the floor drowning
Hearing static
Hearing aids
And then never come back
Zizaloom Aug 2018
Oh. Why.
Simply, solely why
Why why why why why
Why why why why why
A brain filled with big, bushy questions
All summarized by why
Why this, why that
Why me
Why me
Why me
I am aware, fully, completely aware, it is not just precisely me, specifically
Yet all my concerns, are me, mine
Oh yes, selfishness
Arrogance, little piece of high-nosed nonsense
You talked and talked
About what you believed in
What you thought of
Ideals, theories
Ha-ha-ha, they laughed
As if they were somehow understanding
Receiving the message
Bip-bip
Brain in a mush of stupidness
Of ignorance
But you're worse
You are so sensible to little useless, easily-perceived reflexes
Realizing that their blank eyeballs were staring at you
Billiard *****
Motionless, waiting solemnly for their turn to shine and roll
On their gossips
And you joined their stupid cascade
Of mascarade
Because you cannot, not listen
And hide information, in the pockets of your ear
Because you were made to shut that ******* mouth of yours
Because all you said was a mess
Of words
All you were ever destined to be was chaos
You were always meant to be disastrous
And you shook the wrong things
The wrong people
The ones with enormous plastic globes just underneath their foreheads
Boundless mouths, that stretched words till the capability of visibility
And cosmic nostrils that sniffed your brains out, till all you were left was a black hole drifting into their credibility

— The End —