my lips feel ****
I a bit vile
I feel decisive
tonight
I'm burning down
the my oh my
Van Gogh's turquoise
inside
self portrait in the wild:
a woman loves to
toast to cloudburst

I think I might
recycle the devil
for poetry's sake,
tonight it smells
of cinnamon,
of flemish paintings

a moonless bird
in a storm without center
some things hardly
come undone
emptiness dissolves
surfaces contours
plastic hands scream
in distant dreams
dystopia belongs
to daylight in a world
devoid of shadows of thought
unable really to recognize
the gap between their eyes
in between me and anti-me
tyrants dream disembodied worlds
angels have not yet been invented
no more black words
in mugs by the window

the propensity of deadness
as real as the decay of sonnets
one cannot see one's steps
in bruised forests

I am singing a lullaby
to my emptied hands
I bow to this force
the starvation of life
the oblivion of the pulse
in which time grows

hands sliding
sounds gliding
minds swirling
in this dance
of stillnes

gaps filled
with
longing
arising
dwelling

this flux ripple passage
it creates
structures edges shapes
intermediate areas
transfixed faces:
love or
hums chirps rustle  wooes
sighs sights surrenders
breaking points musings
tsunamis  earthquakes
devastation creation
downfall cries resurections
prayers  longing evolving
endurance & the eye of storms
a touch a strike
the infinite in qualia
soil of oblivion
womb songs invocation
hues of silence
ego destruction murmur
wonder nestled
heart's warehouse
crystal kindness
unknown emergence
fountains
dead languages
renewed light moons sphere
overwhelming beauty
first cry first breath of air
much much more forms
to be turned into
we don't have enough poems
enough air enough shouting
cause horses are in love with the grass
tigers are in love with their prey
mountains are in love with water
pain is in love with stones
love just a reference
and we need to destroy its name
for its true face
this quiet spirit
cosmic vibration
in exaltation

Out of gratefulness came gracefulness.

A grateful being makes
a graceful being.


Shell ✨🐚

hear listen to the sound
of the crisp snow spinning the air
say hello where are you
say farewell to the old moon
while rivers are carrying their quiet darkness
and all the poems untouched
by emptiness
remake or retake
get drunk with lucidity
get high as the wind passing through
untold stories