‌  ‌
        Movies don't convey to real life.
     Romanticism isn't alive. In fact,
     it wasn't even alive in the past.
     It only remains inside heads of
     the sickened ones.
     Witful and vibrant conversations
     don't happen over the course of
     our dull, primitive days.
     Those who understand it
     are bless'd
     Lustful stares, funny accidents
     and bold events
     -Never manifest.
     Those who gullibly await'em
     Tired eyes, fake smiles
     End up stomped
     Gnashed, mangled
     By some
     h a m m e r
     Hitting hard
     Hitting bad
     Hitting fast.
     Ha ha
     Bang-bang
     Bye bye

     Movies destroy'd
   My mind and behaviour

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?

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

"Separate,
  purify,
  reunite."
                  -J.D. Morrison, "The Lords"

Now, girl, you can see
You've dreamt about love
And you've dreamt about ******
You've dreamt about
all this stuff.
You've been obsessed
with the power of sexuality
All the ideas and concepts
Have been flooding your mind

Now, girl, pick the scattered glass
from the pool of thick, dense blood
(sound of crumbled glass
as opposed to viscous
bloodness of blood)

You've
Kind of
Found yourself
In this crazy whirlpool

Tram's bell
like a damaged
barking of an old dog.
Not mad or angry though-
-A Natural Flow of Chaos.
Languidness has come again
and is filling the days.


"-Have you ever been to a Moon?
        -No, only stared at it.
         It is sufficient in this exotic
         place, this exotic planet.
         Seas, sandy shores
         starry violet sky,
         Come join us, dig deep into
         the soil of neurons. That'll
         do the job.
         You'll wake up on the beach,
         beside us dancing."


                     Each place and moment
                      has unique smell
                      to it.

          I watched a bird
          climb a tree,
          jumping swiftly
                  Sat on the balcoon,
          and stared at the moon.
                          Old paths

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

It was a summer night.
When I walked into the apartment
I noticed a few groups of people
scattered all throughout the house
after a little party, slightly buzzed,
talking in different rooms,
two on couch, two on the balcony.
Friction of vast unseen worlds.
The windows were opened
night and air of house became one.
Soft, warm wind blew
from time to time
moving the white thin curtains
Frogs and birds sang in their realm
in the thick song of night
roots and branches
of people's minds
touching each other
(like animals)
They all have their
beggining in stem, though.
Different colours mix,
sounds, elements, metals.

There was war
or riots everywhere
Fire and fumes in the sky
Shots, screams, helicopters

He shot my girl
in the bar, the spanish bloke
I noticed he was really nervous
beforehand
Silver revolver and
lines of blow
on the table beside him,
      Panic

Gangrene in my foot
The war goes on
We live and breathe chaos

Telephone mumbling
   the time is running out

‌‌
How do you want
To remember
About these birds?
How do you?

All their souls
Trembled a bit
At sight of reflections
On the Great sea

And my heart
Shook
At sound of her voice

‌
So it is clear now
that you have access
To these horrible
wells. And the foul
stenchful beings that
dwell in them.
You can pull out the
tattered flags from there
and wave their
Black fabric
in the sunlight.
Mystic cool wall, waterfall thundering
Everything can be done.
There are no limitations
Endless landscapes, realms
Kingdoms full
of   e n e r g y.
Endless number of
entities.
               The Consciousness.

A short term quick evolution.
Span of 70 years.
I'm a paleontologist,
Archaeologist, and a
Wildlife observer.
Traces appear so obvious to me
Shifting of characters each day,
Growing claws, fangs and shells
Blooming flowers, colours.
The beaks must be useful.
Searching for balance and a safe spot.
Wildlife environment,
Behaviours of herd
Eyes in bushes.
Observation.

It is grown, but the Umb is silent

And I'll be there, under night France sky
  tired suns will bleed, and dark red
purple wine will bleed
   tired suns that once shun
Each blink
      - like movie frames

You have yours and I have mine

In that limbo fluid sphere
Don't know where You'll catch me

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Go alone
     To circuses
     & in Heaven
     everything is fine


In the end you
're nothing but on
your own, & by yourself

& nothing but a collage
of past experiences
in motion

Think i'd rather be cold
Than suffer
in a post-poned fashion

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It should be banned to die in spring

The sunsets are much more
Lonely without You
the sunsets are much more
lonely without

Look at World with
Eyes like predators
But sometimes even tigers
Must be fallen asleep
To pretend away the nightmares
That clearly seem to be happening

to think that all the flowers had to die
for one rose to bloom

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's the street where i lost my soul
Right here, on the mirror stroll
I dropped it
   And with it my entire world
It dropped & it shattered
to pieces

So now i'm on a rampage
  Of forgotten and fading
All turned into slithery liquids
In swirl night haze
(Craze)

Now sunsets go kind of
with no sense
Sphere goes
   follows
Directions with no meaning
Like it doesn't know
What to do
(It doesn't)
What's even worse,
     It's fine with it that
                     way.


    ~ my Sadness
      - ain't a cheap gem
           ain't for sale
        With bruised gale
          My damaged lungs
          Keep gettin' beaten
                       Down
                            Ah ~

I heard i liked eyes
Now they all - closed
Worn out and hollow
Wait 'till final blow
With couple of these
Precious songs
  left by




But mirrors, by their nature
Tend to work in reverse ways
So it turns out
That in fact
i might have
     gained
my Soul

I want to eat a piece of your soul,
and taste it through and through,
and want you to do the same
with mine.
In this feast,
I want to take part in,
Whoever you are,
          Whenever we are.




I want to eat all these foods,
The most raw of all,
No lies, no fake shells,
Just the primal taste;
the core.

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

Words echo in the chamber of skull,
             in the auditorium of mind
& from time to time
they resonate
through muscles & bones
through fingers
through steely nib

             and become dark drops of ink
              that fall
              on the surface

Some people have a role
of flowers.
Their only strength,
                       power,
                         form.
And while the gardener
looks over his garden,
the bees continue
their pathetic,
high pitched buzzing dance.
Do you know what
I'm talking about?

Today I witnessed
the root being pulled out
of quiet, dim earth
and thrown in the scorching sun.
It was hissing and squirming,
like lethally wounded, dying snake
Fragile life threatened
and escaping, in the scorching sun,
The fear of inevitable, real death
and the desperate will to live,
in the animal eye of slithering root

I'm a rotman
See my diamonds
Watch them wallow in mud
I'm a rotman.

Can't you see my eyes
Through the smoke?
There was a bloke, he said:
            "We broke."
I'm a rotman.
Who's to blame
Who's to blame
A fox; a wolf, rather,
One to blame
In the smoke, with all his diamonds
Can't you see me, I'm a rotman
In mud

I'm a rotman
With all my diamonds
and rubies
I sweat & bleed
Watch me rot
I'm a rotman

‌
Ground rat meat mixed with its ****
Bird bone pudding with bird bones and feather shafts
Blood-jelly bowl
and orange chunks in it
All that eaten in front of crimson
spring sunset sky full of light.
Pea green gray pasta with eyeballs(cut them,
oozes out)
Blake's feces with candles(wax) in rosemary water
Scorched meat, fried fingernails and finger spring rolls
with mashed strawberries
And golden chain necklace & jewelry
In slime & smoke in the final
of these gruesome dishes - (...)

Who is the best sculptor, you might ask?
It is the one who respects the stone.
Scultping a strong arm is his sole task,
So the rock can form itself alone.

I am seeping
The smoke
& shadow
So that no one
Can pull me out
While I'm falling
Down
The dark

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

‌
  ‌ stars

A train passing at night
In a distance

Father to his kid
"Life will be easy",

It will be easy


    Was there a night
Without "goodnight"?
I've no memory.

Fall. Dream

   I can't live without strangeness

Dream. Again

   No memory. Worlds swallow you,
     deep

Again

Just want to feel
The scent of flowers

Wake up

  stars gemmed in skin

     inside

I am emanating slime
So that no one
Can pull me out
While I'm falling
Down
The abyss

You see,
These people never dared
To face the shadowy lion,
The night lion.
Never even thought 'bout it,
Actually
Lie on, slumber still

Smoke in my Forest,
Swirling all around
the branches of trees,
On the timeless day.

Lack of it, causes
stagnation of my
playful animals.
Too much - kills my birds,
making them unable
to fly and to see.

                              
                            ­  The trees' dim branches,
                              twisted and leafless,
                              In the land out of
                              this world, where fairies took
                              a place of the birds,
                              and where the fog floats.

"-I think we should move him to Mallorca, or some kind of... I dunno, Carribeans? It's too rainy here.
          -Oh honey, I don't think it's going to work..."

These artificial surroundings won't heal my heart.
Transplantation went wrong.
Drip drop, the drops are falling
On leaves
Rain everywhere, soaking everything
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom
In this garden of mine plants live their lives
Roots and stems and leaves
Lovers of rain; seekers of self destruction
Striving to know.

"-How is he? I haven't seen him in a while.
          -No idea. He's acting weird nowadays."

The keeper of the values, the guardian of the golden shell
Believe me, I'm very well.
In this waterfall, this foamy-quick stream
Growing bones around me, the self-stems.

‌‌    ‌
Long for
Sweet chambers
Of this Palace

Water of violet of
its fountains
Flowed in peace
down its walls
Marble down its
chill halls
Moon glowed
Mirrored

No drought in its
Nocturnal embrace
And satin enwombed
Us
Into a sweet tomb

Brought
What ever & who ever
When bells call
Into its satin womb
Sweetly
We fall
Back













I am capable of doing
Impossible things
Inside of my crimson chamber
You know

As I travel
The marks on skin glow
& Songs have no shape
Songs have no shape
‌‌    ‌

Childhood
                summer
                              meadow
                                              walks

Scent of herbs,                                
                           pulled out weeds


    Oily, heavy smell
                                       in air
       Cool wind &
                              shade

Cocksfoot grass, yarrow,

    Solidago canadiensis

         Oh, my beloved grandparents!
                     Thank You,
                     You'll stay there          (and here)
                          For ever!

A man walks down the street and notices a coin;
He picks it up and looks closely.
After a brief investigation he sighs, and throws it away.
He's found no value,
*******

                                 Please, decorate the interior of your heart,
                                 Tattoo the words, quotes and sentences,
                                 Engrave the walls of your skull.

                  You are all killing me
                  with your smiles
                  Cold needles, dead icicles in my heart.
                  Birds wallowing in mud.

Dogs meeting each other for a first time,
Stiff bodies, sniffing, looking
-building distance.
Stiff body
"I don't like him" - thinks one dog.

                  Penny with no value,
                  **** him, let him rot

                                 You don't realise at how deep water
                                 you are looking at
                                 and refuse to probe it.

Leaves on the wind, soil,
Hyacinths growing(think about their smell),
Cold receding, come, spring.
Oh, I used to be there.

How can we dance
when the birds
are dead?
Cut the tumor
out of my mind
(not my soul
-it is pure,
            beautiful.)

I woke up too late,
my train has left.
         That's how
             I feel.
2000 years old train
Destination: City of the Sane.
I will catch it,
however, I'll leave
before the final station
Is reached.

I don't mind
roaming the woods for ever,
walking the meadows
and climbing the hills.

     I refuse.

‌
With a soul
         in a hole
All seem to
Adore my breath
A hand stranded
Soul
       in a hole
Adore the little bird
In the palm of hand

   ‌
  ‌

‌  ‌‌The desperate pounding
  ‌          on the wall can be heard

"Love Love Love"
I can't believe you're so shallow.
   You refuse. You die.
   You vanish like a burning hay,
   right here, on the blackened way.
Candy peaks, monotonous points in the sea

      Let me descend
    Open you a bit


                        River,
                        Sun,­­
   ­                     foamy stream,
                        You drown,
                        Love, dream, dream!
                        TV screens
                        Times square
                        Light-ants
                       ­ Electric signals through wires
                        deep dark night flooding rush
                        Volcano erupting
                        Surface! Screammm!
                          Neons
                       ­ A­lcohol on glass
                        Old charwoman rubs it
                        with rag
                        Hands shake you
                        in the foamy stream
                        Ha!
                        Who was right?


     The night staggers you
     with thousand stars
     Wolves howling
     Moon
     Mushrooms
     Dew & violet & knights
     & Mysteries
     Welcome to the old days
     Tomorrow you will be introduced
     to the wise King of England


A rocker picks up stuff
and scatters the TV screen
bottles of liqour are smashed
in his house
Glass scattered, guitars wrecked - he's crazy,
pulling out hair, gnashing teeth
-You all killed him
    and You are not even aware


     Meanwhile a man strolls the woods
      searches for mushrooms
       on sunny autumn day
       he smells moss, bark and undergrowth
       He's contemplating the topics of
             childhood & ******


        Red lipstick smears all over her lips
                 She's the animal queen
                     All belongs to her
                   Thanks to her claws,
                     cat-moan, and the
                          short living
                     aggressive cinder
                            she owns.
            Leather jacket be her weapon,
                  Night be her moment.





I am the Eye,
and what I see
is a child picking yellow petals
of sow-thistle
kneeling in the sun
in his timeless summer.
Who would know,
that this chapter
would be closed
one day
and the brown leather book
would become dusty
someday

‌  ‌
When we have all the stripes
Collected
We'll buy a horse, and make a zebra.

     I wish I were a pigeon
   Dwelling on these roofs

Morning sunlight
& Fresh air

Berry wine

    ~dining with flies~

and i fell a long, dreamless
                           sleep

‌  ‌
Black petals.
I watch you fall
             down.

"I is the mountaine!
   I are the spirit of the Sierra"

Send him under.
End the horrible
years of
stone slumber

Now, the rain clouds
Weave
the thunder

He's a walking mayhem



   The nubes pass above
    Orange desert rocks

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

‌
i suppose, Karma is based
on empathy.

"𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴,
𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴"

It came to me after
Surprisingly long time.
After other things come up
To your mind
The way above,
In a shocking way
Passes the test

Really, charming moors
( put it out, please ڪ )



And have you known -
By the way
That karma,
In my mother-tongue
Means dog food?

& i don't care
Best ones are flung
With no hesitation
  ‌

"-I can see a Cosmos in your pupils.
         -Yes, a neuronal Cosmos."

Macroverse | Microverse

The Secret.
Will death unveil it?

Time, Mind, Life
Family & Friends
Love, Anger, Hate, Days, Years
You, Me, They, Us, It
God, War
Childhood, Job, Death, Tears
Religion, Politics, Money
Wind, Leaves, Sun & Rain
Children, Joy, Moment, Eyes
------- ----- ---- --- --  -  -   -

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.

I'm a Colossus
A gigantic
biological robot

A plain hand raise
Cluster of muscles
and bones and nerves
Thousands of proteins
millions of atoms
moving like avalanche
   Seen from the micro world
   my plain hand raise
   would sound like roar
    of gargantuan sea's waves

Time drills and channels
          the canyons
          in the flesh of brain.

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.

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…

Free cry, free king!
In and out, not loud.
The paint sinks in the sand;
Blue, red and white,
And green and whi-te.

They scrape the steel,
The sounds, yes they do.

I see the paint flowing,
I feel the sickness growing
Out! And in
-Sinking in

               The landlors are calling me,
               And the bright blue obscures my vision
               Is the sand falling?








And as the crimson wine soaks in,
And the worms finish their feast,
I slowly go insane.

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."

So I've wandered, I've wandered
All the way, to the End of the Night
The gloomy, blurred colours were all around
An aura of dim greenish-blue light
Infused with the spirit grey

My days of infancy, here I am to embrace you
The air is hot, succulent as the life itself
Everything's vibrating, the liquid chromas
Like a surface, I touch it with our soul
I've strayed to this place, overwhelmed by
The black of the Night, like tar,
I slowly swim in it; feasting on the moment
Short flashes of stars
I'm in a realm of Life
In a realm of broken lines
I tell you, there are no lines
No lines no more,
The Kiss

Lone Cebador
        Gaucho child
With weary boots of leather
Weary shirt, indian feather

He sat on pampa grass,
Beside the cracking fire
and the desert mass
     With his thoughts wandering
Wild eyes gazing into the
     evening sky

A bird of prey - thru the air he flew
The Lone Cebador with nothing
but his thoughts, and his sacred brew

‌  ‌
  ‌The room on fire
‌  ‌fires, flames, burning
‌  ‌A young man rushes through
‌  ‌-A war-time lover
‌  ‌Few decades later to
‌  ‌be recalled, by his girl
‌  ‌-Old lady, by then-
‌  ‌He dances, runs amidst
‌  ‌the flames
‌  ‌coat swirling
‌  ‌"freedom!"
‌  ‌he yells
‌  ‌"freedom!"
‌  ‌yells everything
‌  ‌bells
‌  ‌winter winds
‌  ‌turn day to night
‌  ‌a ship sinking
‌  ‌movie tape running
‌  ‌and running
‌  ‌in an empty
‌  ‌hall
‌  ‌cinema set ablaze
‌  ‌    Mirrors now
‌  ‌ 7 of them
‌  ‌or I can't see the rest
‌  ‌    I'm not sure
‌  ‌ sounds meandering
‌  ‌     need the rest
‌  ‌  don't forget the flower
‌  ‌       follow the footsteps
‌  ‌ stay on search

‌ Finally
‌ I can recognize
‌ my reflection
‌  ‌

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