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Janos Toth May 2018
Your hair
I dreamt of it last night
but it was different
it smelled sweet like the exhaust
fumes of the old dingy buses
of my hometown
it tasted just like my first shot
of tequila on a late summer night
it looked like the blind spots I used to have
when you used to punch me in the gut.
Do you remember how we laughed?
Your dreams
I dreamt of them last night
but it was different
Janos Toth Jan 2016
What exactly am I supossed to write now?
I actually decided on the title before figuring out what to say.

just seen a youtube video on the subject
it completely changed my life... again

metaphors about closed curves or loops don't come to mind
but maybe I shouldn't stress too much about the title
what if I simply forget about it, push it away?

but it's right there...
at the back of my head
after every line I write my eyes pop back to that title
I just did it again.

I can't decide if I should include a 'the'.
'a mobius strip' also doesn't satisfy me.
Mobius strips never satisfy me.

It's easy to give up, isn't it?
another fix. then they keep trying to drag me out
telling me I'm addicted to it,
that I should join a Mobius strip rehab center
but I can quit
whenever I want
I promise
Janos Toth Mar 2015
faces I used to know now turn pale
       as they push themselves further and further inside
       pointing in every direction

I shouldn't need so much alcohol for this
       at least not god
       floating under your gray expression

why did you stop beating? vibrating?
why would you stop sweating whenever you fall for someone?
why did you try to lift something
that must not be lifted?

why did you throw yourself in the stench of the
       town's hollow eyes?
why would you stay upfront when it is at last time
       to fall?

why did you join the grey faces?
       so that you will be shouting from the top
       of your lungs in the ears of the gods
       that now broke into hundreds of thousands
       of reflections in the mud?

even though it's useless?
       and horrible
       and your lungs give us exactly what
       we need
       but nothing more?

even though they will be careless with it
       and imperfect
even if it counts
       and it will **** you in the end?

stop now!
stop sitting with your head pushed so hard
       against your chest that
       you turn into a mosaic of the town
stop making bridges out of yourself
stop painting flowers on every piece of broken glass
and stop trying to harm
what no longer is there

even though you want it to
Janos Toth Dec 2013
"dark green rose higher"

you were careless with the door,
     not knowing it will close
you stabbed it repeatedly
lust was pouring
like melted glass

your face turned into children then into sand then into bridges
and fear
and late woods
and plastic flowers

I am exhausted for myself, so
     tell me about karma so I won't fall asleep
Janos Toth Nov 2013
for Hanna

"stop sitting with your head pushed so hard against yourself that you turn into a mosaic of the town"

the milk's smell fills the house that's barely made out of wood
I saw your green and white dress

your streets stretched out towards the bottom of the sound
factories closed down
towers grew silk
Janos Toth Jul 2013
I feel warm when I remember how we joked about the huge paintings with golgota.
the only small one, with the park
where the branches glared upon a mother and her child,
mesmerized you
                                                             ­   (that was our child.)
the painting was at the end of the room,
right after all the hideous canvases
and mothers.
                                                             ­   (the mother was god.)

inside the room there were
no windows                                            (no fathers.)
no hope,
no pain.

from outside I could only see the child.
Janos Toth Jul 2012
my shrink told me:

Baked clouds:
A broken butterfly:
Holy fear"

abortion, gay marriage, suicide, depression, faith diversity, disunion, pacifism, the internet, green peace, the national institutes of guns, alcohol and cigarettes, math teachers, poorly written books and well-written books, science, documentaries, the 90′s Cartoon Network, solutions for first, second and third world problems, the Venus project, conspiracy theories, poker, chess and backgammon, ******, music, female *******, boys playing with dolls and offensive language are nothing

we are all attention ******.
we are born and buried
for attention.
we endure awkwardness
for attention.
we have *******
for attention.
god will be afraid of us
for attention.

so I told him**:

"Let's face it
nothing will be everything!"
it just came to me and I thought it would be a good idea to write it down. I think I will change my mind in 5 minutes or so.I will probably rewrite it with 90% of the words cut out.

— The End —