Desire to
desire less -
like fire,
which burns my flesh

and soul.

Meditation
is the process of removing
goals.

We clearly see the illusion of material things.
We simply choose to ignore it,
hoping for getting approval from above.

It doesn't matter how high we think of ourselves,
how high we hold our heads.
At the end of the day,
we are equally invisible to the night.

More you want,
less you get.
More you try to remember,
more you forget.

More you try to be happy,
more sad you feel.
Less time you have left,
more time you ****.

The wiser you are,
the less you know.
The more you desire,
the less you own.

They thought it was easy:
they tick the boxes
and we dissapear.
But it didn't work like this.
It never does.
They should have known it by now.

The problem is,
we aren't just boxes to tick.
If you **** your nightmares,
you will forfeit sweet dreams.

They hate everything what is different,
but on the surface
they are nice people,
who wouldn't hurt a fly.

Haven't we all got two personalities,
good and bad?
Heaven and Hell in one?
At time it makes us dizzy.

Some of us suddenly switch
way too easy.

Cold is the morning
and I don't feel like going back
to this awful place.
Will anyone notice my absence there.

Poor kids, they built Heaven and Hell.
Now they are running away
to the safety.

Last sip of water before I will go back
where I came from.

Please tell my daughters that I'll buy them flowers
when I come home.

No, I can't stay, take the gold, take my body
- I won't need it anymore.

I had made my decision, long time before I made it.

I'm not thirsty at all.

She lives next door,
she never talks.
She never cooks.
She never has visitors.

She never comes out,
I only saw her once or twice,
not even sure if it was her.
Maybe she is hiding.
Maybe there is something I don't know.

She doesn't go to work,
I doubt she has a job.
How does she pay her rent?!
Or maybe there is something
I don't need to know.

She doesn't make any noise,
she never gets on anyone's nerves,
no one ever complains about her.
And still she makes everyone around
move out.

Or maybe there is something
I don't want to know.

Love doesn't exist,
until it comes.
Then is too late
to take anything back.

Too late
to leave the home
and hide
under the stone.

Waist band
shaping the waste land.
Wait, time!

I asked my dead friend:
'Have you been to Heaven?'
Of course! - he exclaimed!
Many times. And you? 'Never...'

'How was it?' Nothing special 
 - he was quick to admit.
Overpriced, tourists trap.
I prefer it here, where I live.  

I asked: 'Are you serious?!'
He replied: Yes, my friend.

Then we went for a coffee.
It was a beautiful day.

Maybe it wasn't him,
who was making decisions,
maybe he was just filling the orders
of his supervisors.
What if there was bigger God above him?

Maybe he didn't know about anything,
nobody briefed him
on what was going on down here.

Wha if he is innocent
and can't take the responsibility
for injustice and pain?

What if he never had the right
to an advocate?

The motto
of one of the Inquisitors of The Church was:

"We would gladly burn a hundred,
if just one of them is guilty".

Sounds familiar?

They have children,
they have homes,
they have money,
they have jobs,
they have good cars,
and many more things they want to have.

I have paper and pen,
I have my poems,
that's enough.

Smile to yourself,
don't smile to others,
apart from children,
smile to them,
for they will appreciate it
and understand.
But don't smile to their mothers and fathers.
They will think you are weird.

Don't smile to strangers,
they will ignore you,
or will take it as your weakness
and will dare to approach you
and ask for money or a cigarette.

Smile to yourself,
to the face in the mirror,
you will feel safe,
you will feel like a winner!

Every death is unexpected,
takes us always by surprise.
Darkness always falls so heavy
from the red Pompeian skies.
Never ready for her visit,
she will come to take your life.

Even if the holy fire
comes to wash your sins at night,
it will wake you up and frighten,
it will make you run for life.
Suddenly, without a warning,
all your dreams and hopes will die.

Young or old - it doesn't matter,
man or woman, noble, slave,
saints and sinners, bankers, poets
will end up in the same grave.
Our bones won't be discovered,
unless by an accident.

Everyone has the volcano,
sitting over their town.
One day it'll unleash inferno,
even when it's quiet now.
It will follow you, if happens
you decide to leave, move out.

Every death is unexpected,
takes us always by surprise.
Even if you say I'm ready,
you will run and try to hide.
But there will be no escape
from the red Pompeian sky.

I am in love with the country,
which doesn't exist anymore.
I am in love with its people,
for they have renounced the war.

I am in love with their women,
for in their modesty their beauty lies.
I am in love with their language,
for the alphabet of death never dies.

I am in love with the nation,
who didn’t **** in order to survive.
I remember that day very well.
It was love at last sight.

Empires: they rise, then they fall,
nothing can't change their fate.
Even the Ancient Rome
ended in a pitiful grave.

Fools want to rule the world,
claiming the foreign lands,
but waves of time will destroy
the castles they build on sand.

And us - we can save ourselves
from architects of demise
and never give up - never fail,
but in spite of them - always rise!

And no one will take our home,
and no one will make us slaves,
for Freedom is in our souls,
and runs in our blood, our veins.

Let's build the Empire within,
the strongest country of all.
The island no tyrant will take,
no enemy will reach its shores.

No matter how much I have lost,
my head high I'll always hold.
For everything I need to be free
is here - in my heart, in my soul.

Oh please stop swearing,
here is the coin,
put it under the tongue.
It should calm you down.

You were so quiet all your life,
and suddenly this.  

I know,
it must be hard -
missing the world,
the wound is still fresh.

But what about others?
Will you not let them to get some sleep
before the dawn?

You agree with me, saying
that I have taken them out of your mouth.
Yes, correct,
like literally.

I dared.

I'm not scared of the rain
and storms.
Yes, I am guilty of being a dreamer,
so what?

Oh, stop swearing, please, here is your coin,
put it under your tongue,
it should soothe you.
You were so quiet and tranquil for your all life,
what happened to you?
Sudden anger, frustration, rage.

I know, it must be hard for you to say goodbye
to the things you adored and worshipped.
But there are others, what about them?
Will you let them to get a bit of sleep,
before the dawn comes?

I was travelling
in part by the river,
in part by the sea.

The body, a sumptous villain, has parted me,
or perhaps it was me who has detached.
I don't know. I have no taste of good and bad anymore.

But it doesn't matter. It has happened,
we are not the same. We never were.
We have been keeping together only out of fear.

The most important thing is
that I have made my decision: I will stay strong.
It will be hard to go through it all alone. I know.
But the light has to be sheltered
from the slightest gust of air.
Nothing else matters.

Just him
and his pen
against the whole
world.

He'll lose many
battles,
but he'll win

the war.

They dragged my naked body all over the town,
in front of the manically  joyful crowd
of clapping morons.

But none of them has made me the horseman,
none of them has made me the knight -
none of them has given me the name
and the freedom.

So I didn’t feel any pain, any shame.

I can't tell my heart what to do,
it won't listen to me. It will do the opposite.
it will make me look like a fool.

Since the first time I met you, I knew
that we can't be just friends.
But my heart wasn't sad.

And I said to my heart: You are cruel!
and it smiled at me, it smiled at you.
And I looked so helpless that night,
and you looked so beautiful.

My heart knows best, it knows that I love you.
And it knows that I know that it knows.
Brain? Oh, brain. Brain has no say at all.

Autumn leaves
scattered under my feet
like funeral flowers.

Dead man keeps following me
and asking for a spare life.
I wish I had one for myself.
That would be lot of fun.

Dead man keeps following me
and asking for a spare life.
He looks a bit disappointed,
he knows he stalks the wrong guy.

I overheard this whisper,
this gentle, peaceful chat:
Look, happiness is easy,
it's them, who make it hard.

I'm a poet,
I have nothing
except words.

I'm a poet,
I don't care about
the world.

Take your money,
take your cars
take your pearls.

I'm a poet,
I don't care about
the world.

Well, yeah, sometimes
I wish I was
someone else.

But I'm a poet,
poets can't escape
their Fate.

The architects
of their own
demise.

Full time poets
don't exist.
In this world
at least.

There is plenty of them
on the other side.
It’s only for us
it seems that they have died.

Yellow leaves
falling
from the trees.

The quiet river
isn't calling my name -
it's calling me.

Death
is trying to be fair
at least.

Flowers can speak
and beautiful is their language,
their voice.
You can hear them whispering
when silence falls.

But when they wither and die,
they scream
like mothers of children,
taken away from them
to be killed.

When you're a poet,
every Hello is a Goodbye.

When you are a poet,
every day is the last day
of your life.

My coffee
is never sweet enough.
Even if I put five sugars,
it still tastes awfully.

I once tried ten,
and it didn't work.
I wonder why.

My coffee
is never sweet enough.
I guess that's what happens
when you're fed up with life.

Poets remember
snows in July
and unbearable heatwaves in December.

If rain never comes,
I'll still love her.

If dream ends too fast,
I'll still love her.

If stars fall from the sky
sky above her.

If Love sadly dies,
I'll still love her.

Angels  and demons
share flats - and beds.

Angels and demons
are the best
- friends.

We try to change it
and make them fight.
We hate the darkness,
we want the light.

They live in peace
they know themselves well.

We are at war
but with ourselves.

Oh Silence, where are you?
Will I ever hear you again?
I've been looking for you everywhere
- in vain.

I have been to many churches
and quite a few graveyards too,
but you weren't there anymore.
Where are you?

One day you will come to see me
and you'll  lay your hand on my head.
And I won't have to be jealous again
of people, who became deaf.

Oh, don't abandon me, Athene,
for you are the only one
I care about.

If you forget me, Athene,
there will be nothing I can live for
and I will die.

Oh, please don't leave me, Athene, alone,
at the mercy of pigs  in the mud.
I will be dead lost without you,
and nothing will make me alive.

There is nothing but darkness
on the other side.
Black night, like an ocean,
with black moon,
like dead man´s smile.

Nothing but darkness
at the end of the tunnel
of life.

The flickering flame
of darkness.

Some of us call it light.

When they closed down Heaven,
St Peter lost his job,
you would see him in the queue to Job Center,
you would see him drinking alone.

He was angry with the decision:
- They shut Heaven, why they don't shut Hell?!
Maybe they have work for me down there,
maybe I should go and check.

When he knocked to the Satan's door,
they opened and a man dressed in black
said: My Lord is busy at the moment,
please come back later, or don't come back.

He came back few ours later, knocked again,
and the same strange man opened the gate:
My Lord is still busy, I'm afraid,
can you please come back tomorrow?
-Okay.

So he came back the next day, the door opened
and the same guy appeared before his eyes,
he said: Ah, it's you again, - Well, yes,
you said to come another time.

He said: I want to speak to Satan,
as I'm desperately looking for a job.
He didn't tell him who he was,
but they knew him well in the Kingdom of Gore.

Please, come later - the man said and left,
but St Peter has had enough.
- Oh don't worry you *******,
I'm fed up, I'm not coming back.

When they closed down Heaven,
St Peter lost his job,
you would see him in the queue to Job Center,
you would see him drinking alone.

Peter went off the rails, became an outlaw,
and no one called him Saint anymore,
he hit the bottom, he was a pure evil
killing men for cash and for gold.

And one day he said to himself:
I will try the Hell one more time,
maybe now they will let me in,
when I lost my all inner light.

So he went to meet Holy Satan
one more time and vowed - one last time.
Knocked the door and the same man appeared,
said: Come in, you are welcome now.

My shadow
it wants to be me,
it's jealous,
can't walk and can't sleep.

It thinks
that I'm living a dream -
it would do anything
to be me!

Be careful
what you wish for
- I keep telling him.

And he is surprised,
he doesn't understand.

One day
we will swap fates anyway.

The gallery is closing soon,
hurry up,
don't say you will come
another time.

I bet you want to see "Sunflowers".
You say you can wait.

You can? Okay, but
what if they can't?

They hold me tight,
they kiss my lips,
my eyes.

When it's time to wake up
they say: "Don't worry,
stay in bed.
Keep dreaming,
keep dreaming,
don't let anyone wake you up."

The body I temporarily own,
I cherish and I adore -
it'll be taken from me,
I will become
free.

The eternity I crave,
my nothingness I try to escape -
she will offer the shelter for them.

To the mystery of life
she will find the clue,
and the child who will die in me,
in her belly will move.

If you want to learn
the art of flying,
ask angels, they are experts after all,
for people,
though they fly sometimes,
can only teach you how to fall.

Radio
was playing Piano Concerto
by Sergei Rachmaninov,
and I felt like passion and love
were filling my heart.

My heart is like a dove.
And I'm off,
I'm off to Paradise.

And it can rain
and it can snow,
and Fate
can tumble the dice.
Nothing can stop me now,
on my way
on my way to Paradise.