Rain increases
like nightjars' growing
              thirstful
            clamor
She wept
   -the rain is over

Thrilled to be a human.

‌ ‌  ‌
Old damaged hands
Moving barely in tired hope.
End everything magnificently
Like a twenty-seven.
The feeling of skin
Warmth, hair
& scent and breath
And this weird kind of trust
The wind's blowing fast
A hope it would last

And in this cradle of Raven's claws,
I'll go blue and vanish
And as I had flown down on white wings,
On black ones I will leave.

Death - is our only friend.
Never fails to arrive
at the final hour.
But before - the tornado of bones,
entropy; basic law of the Universe,
ravaging everything we have built
so carefully, gullible.
Leaving desolation,
so that Death can fly down
and stroll amongst the bones
and jewelry.

A random moment, sound, word, sentence, scene
act as a grain of salt
thrown into a concentrated solution.
A poem crystallizes and branches around it.

‌
I'd rather have my cigarette
Alone,
or in great company.
No in-betweens.
  ‌

The lake has melted
wind and sun
stroke the surface
slowly
and birds play there
(deceptively seems the same)

A switch
a 180°
Different realm
A Parallel dimension



    Leaves and misc. items
    are burnt in the gardens
    they crack and disappear
    into the smoke
    (last clear-outs)

            Winter metabolites

    Rain falls
    and cleans the air
    off all the sluggish-dark things
    that accumulated
    through this bad time

            Winter metabolites






Winter leaves a mess
which we're meant to clean

I'm so ******* sad
and hopeless.
        Broken mind
     Birds are going to wallow
         for ever
  Trees & months & moon
      cry
   for ever



                   There must be something wrong
                      with the outside
                                         I know it.

The frown flooded the face,
A grim cellular crown.
Guess we'll have to wait,
Just wait
Till the moon moves

One drag
for one person
   into night sky

‌
Been lookin' through windows
Pondering about
Rumors
& Secrets of spring
The light seems longer
I put in quotemarks of water
  ‌

These days, I often imagine myself
Lying in my bed, dead.
With nothing but the "Little black book"
On the table beside me-
-a rather non toxic version of me.
A sculpture once hot,
A painting once wet.
The "Little black book" written with a black ink
(except one little bluestar).
A sculpture now cool,
A painting now dry.
Finally - matured, ripe and stonelike.
Ready to be exposed to the people:
Family, friends, loved ones, strangers.
Chaos to words.
A cooled down notebook.

A man sitting at
The edge
Of the ending world
Singing, wailing with his
Raspy, low voice
Whiskey & smoke voice
He swallows dimmed stars
In his mind.
Drink another one


Living through infinite worlds
Infinitely,
Through the clockworks
and mechanisms
of the machine
******* each world dry
off its juices

I was a king, a sickman
A star-eyed bizzare one
This girl, and every girl,
In fact.
This africano suited in leathers,
And a sound vibration in some canals
Only to wither away, again
Like a dying plant
And to repeat,
Infinitely.

Sing on, at the edge
Of the ending universe
Swallowing
Dimmed stars
Throwing these words to waste,
To jaws of changing rails, or
to turn to gold
Or night-bone
-the string broke--
And... Oh

O damaged ship,
Voyager of the vast waters
for years and years now.
How many things have you seen?
Storms you witnessed,
Islands visited?
There's a certain beauty
in the way your body is scarred
by time.
Sail on, o elder ship.

...So I was driving down the road,
I was a passenger in a car,
Sitting safely inside, kinda bored,
Staring through the window
You know, the next thing I recall,
I saw the Cosmos
All the stars, and dark, silent space
Through the deformed, torn metal of my vehicle,
It was like... brutally ripped
Floating in the Universe, in this loud silence,
And you see, now I know
I peeked into the Forbidden,
I gazed into the Unknown.

‌‌    ‌
& how do You
tell me, how do
You find
Sippin' whiskey and
and listening to
         japanese jazz?
   oh
'n looking through
                window
to find pink with blue
unfurl out and in dusk sky

all these blend together
so well
that liqours drop
  on paper
hazes hues
comes out dusky

   some
  somehow
  somehow
  
    slide
        down~







   Peace of Mind

All i need to snap
           out
  of these
is the song and a drink
      to
fall back into
these blankets of
  mind of mine
They wrap arms around me
so softfuly
‌‌    ‌
‌‌    ‌

A neuronal mountain
As one digs deeper into it
More and more secrets unfold.
Insane forgotten mines,
tunnels arranged in geometrical
manner out of this world.
Darkness, gems and gold
glittering mysteriously
Abandoned railways and caverns
where echoes remain.

The old evil spirit
awoke in the hearts of children
heating their blood & rushing it,
   killing their innocent summer plays,
                         stealing the days,
       Leaving lustful eyes.

   Then, Society came along,
    and neatly devoured their beautiful
    summer souls


    When did all of this happen?

‌‌
  ‌‌
How many more
Ghosts
Will i meet
On this dusted path
  ‌‌

All became a whirlpool
Vast city swirling down
    It looks so good
                 (gotta drown)
          f e e l s  so good

   -I jumped and flown

‌
Sleep moves
   In serpentine ways
And the moon's been
Glued to sky
   For years now
  ‌

All I see
Is a bull's blood
In time, fly through
Air
Left
To dry
In dry air

Endlessly sad songs
Make you sad
For future
Even at now
Endlessly sad songs
Is where i take
My fuel from.
You asked me
Precisely
About that,
You did,
I remember.

Streak of blood
Flies through
Air
In slow time
In a room of Music

Each note
Rips the torrent
And you see
Everything

Every thing,
Every time
And I
Soak away

‌‌
Summerian kiss
We are and were,
All the same

Gales & clouds
Violet night
Rip apart, it
is easy,
see?

Sitting with a mug and a pen
Looking for a shape of me,
For myself and you to see.
How can one drown in the depths of madness
and bring back fishes?
Jesus, can you help me?
How can one go down the rabbit hole
and bring back real items; souvenirs?
In this speck of time,
I strive to know.

Sirens moaning, Bach's adorning,
What a waste,
Will we ever be granted the help
                we deserve?
Rain falls calmly on the city,
           Fragile candles dying.
What a waste.
     What a waste it is! I quit,
                                      Farewell.

The dusk
Villains of the summer night
leave their places
and roam the streets of town.
Beautiful chaos and freedom
Dressed in leather,
Swirling Raven's feather,
Sweet black night

‌
No use for eye
Blood flow pupil
Blood flow sun
Into veins,
now
Dilate
Straight into mystery

The reptile has shed its skin
The scales, scattered away like time
Strange hours abound
Gold glimpsed in the afternoon scenery
Visions of Mexico; empty house and wooden furniture

Meanwhile, the strings are being cut by the blade
Disconnection, a brief bright flash of the cold
And He opened his eyes
Awoken in the darkness, an aztec paint on his face

Glass sphere and this odd scenery
The surface, like a cosmic journey,
Smooth and vast,
With the Sun's kiss on its cheek

Sitting beside methane sea
Gazing at the Saturn
I wonder why Beethoven
  Sounds so good in space,
     In a place so far away from home,
        full of cold and loneliness?
         Yes, sounds of piano definetly
          fit the silence and beauty of the Cosmos.

So, so far away from home,
in cold and quiet
beside the methane seas
On my own - I find my peace.

It's her and her mind
It's her and her mind
Oh, her head hangs low
Low, so low
Met us,
The lady, dog
& The crow

It's her and her mind
It's her and her mind

In the silver glow
Slow, so slow
Her head hangs slow
Meet us
The lady, dog
& The crow

It's her and her mind,
her and her mind,
Oh,
Only her
and her mind

Time to tell the truth.
As I do so, I won't use
the poets' tricks and tools.
Simple words will do.

My poems are a cry for attention.
A cry that hopes that
one day someone will see them.
        "You are writing poetry? Wow!
         You are truly an insightful,
         sensitive, open-minded and
         artistic person. You have a gift."
        -The words I want to hear.
         Yes, deep within me.
               Time to tell the truth.

A hope that someone will:
•see me gazing into a nature
•watch me while I'm gently smoking a cigarette
•look AT my deep eyes
•see me reading a book(a sign of intelligence,
                                                             obviously.)
•see me with my eyes closed, meditating
                              (a sign of self-awareness
                                               and sensitvity.)
A hope that someone will say
I'm intelligent and
A p p r e c i a t e   me.
Constant shaping. What is real? Is there "real"?
Nowadays, I strongly doubt that.

All these things
I've seen through
& through.
I've investigated their roots,
deep within the silent earth,
I've looked at every fossil,
and analysed the course of evolution
Yet they rule(d) me.

I'm leaving it all
beyond the glittering doors
of the Acid Poem,
with a corpse of ego.
I'm abandoning my-self
and all my theatre roles.

A dance worth a lifetime.
What's a moment of an endless joy
Traded for eternity of torment?
Of hell?
For one

Saw it burrow underneath
the Mtn.
The men of village
drank *** and danced in the woods
      they were returning
      as the dusk was creeping up

The shade and sunset's light
mixing and shifting
on the ***** of the Mtn.
     Felt it hide in the mines
         dark veins of gold
The men kept capering and laughing; unaware,
Always listening to the songs of forest and night,
the forgotten melodies and plays hidden from sight.


             I saw it dance, and leap madly, though.

‌
Vow me,
On my
Cobweb-woven
Dream

Today I wore
Blood-red tinted
Boots

-that 1 song
You know the lyrics of
   by heart-
The star fell
Wait, hold on
Not a star,
an eye star
of a star-eyed one

That song, that is
Forbidden to sing,
That eyes, that are
Forbidden to
Look into

A homosexual man had a dog;
His only friend.
He loved him, his warm sun ray.
They shared laughter
and used to go for walks
                                         everyday.

Then, one evening,
some angry men
approached them in a park.
They beat the man, laughing, and
          killed his dog,
and left - made a mess.

He had his "punishment",
                            I guess…

Insane old man! Insane old man!
Sitting near the sea, in a small town.
Sunset's light and white buildings, empty streets.
Tell your children and your friends that
       There is no Secret
   but only the waves, flowing calmly in the Great Sea,
Cold, dark, silent waters and the
swollen orange Sun above them.

        -The Big Rest is here for us. Finish your chores,
          take a look at the Sun and the village, feel
          the soft evening's wind, do some small things and
                              go to the Sea

                -The old man in a hat, sitting on a chair with
                  a staff in his hand, smiled and said:
                       "There's no Secret, but only
                             waves
                                and the Great Sea."

‌
Music is Magic
Poetry is alchemy
  ‌

‌‌The trees speak to sky
With crooked branches,
Their tongues

Chimneys puke
Their share

Trees are like hungry birds,
The latter - maggots

Everything speaks
Sky's blue body listens
And sometimes
Kisses

My blood turned to chains
  Each breath
Brought the vision
Of cage
Vein, vain

All my blood turned
To diamonds
Each touch
The beautiful image
Of moon

Bring back life
Bring back life

The wolf is running
Soon his heart is grasped
Powerfully,
With the feeling
Of transience
His whole body shakes



It's here






I would love to
Talk to someone
And, like an old moon,
Spill all my wisdom,
Somehow

She walked away
         and now I'm sad

The proportion between the stimuli and the sensation.
Me with my eyes closed?
The light can purge through my eyelids, even with them closed. The case comes down to the sensitivity

I have precious things to give,
Conversations and memories
that dwell in the future.
I want them to be
Taken as a gift
Before I leave.
And want to be remembered
With a kind word
a smile, and a warm thought.

Could it be, that we have to
feast in hurry,
And that the lake is
Frozen?

Clumsy, shy hard metal brain.
Anyway, I'm not worried,
And I have lots of good feelings.

Need of being appreciated, and liked and loved
Is the most destructive feeling in my life.
I'm glad I can shape myself with writing.

"No drug can compete
  With the Sun"


This is one thing,
the other one
Is:

No dancer better
   Than the flame

‌‌
Late night drinking
Talks
The bottle,
  Honesty, lies.
Two men talking
A fish bowl on a drawer

Fuzzy thinking

Remember when you
Told me that story
About albatros?

Or Baudelaire's
"Albatros"

  Fuzzy thoughts,
   Anyway


Through the meanders
   of mind

"A profound connection to memories
With simultaneous disconnection
To them"
I read, through the yellowed
Pages of the magazine
The sun peeked through window

The last words
Were my last letters to you



Come, I show you
The meaning and shapes
Of world
What the dry wine is
Exactly

‌‌
It's all right to feel fleshless
To have all your flesh
Torn off your spine
A bare spine,
A snake shedding
His skins, for
Million
Times

At first, it may not feel fine,
The hollowness, and all
  But it gets better
With time, trust me
  It's life.

The meaty summers
                   & springs
    Hollow winters
            In time

Mad dancer
Dancing madly
At the wastes
Of an ended world,
Of a world gone

1 a.m
Tears on rocks,
     Please
Laughter
    On the sun

-most beautiful
flowers
 Bloom only in spring
  Colorful, vibrant
  and for a short time-

   --------------------------

We must die, brutally
Fall to ground,
To earth
Lay heavy
To waste,
& fade away
To summon the Spring.

  Dance.
The smokes start
To swirl up

Wine runs
Through soil,
Again,
Swirl through veins
Veins of life
Alive
Alive
Come back
Alive

The poet's eyes
have a certain
dark depth and abyss
to them

Winter metabolites
Cold air inside
Hot air outside
Clear in
***** out
Snow-covered bikes
Hand prints in snow
Indescribable sensation(culmination?)