My comrade P. is slightly outraged
The knife is honed and spilled with blood
I dance with fairy-mushrooms on the stage
My wooden horses lined-up at the start

And flies together with black crows 
Float through the heavens getting nuts
I feel like hundred-year corpse
I feed meat-hasher with my guts

My ******* fatherland in red
Is getting mossy day by day
I look at it from high above my head
While comrade P. is turning into clay

Library lifter
Came to my study
He made all precautions
Mom’s sleeping
Mind’s blowing
He’s stepping smoothly
Right into my precious hub
With fairly ***** intentions

He carries his box of instruments
With screwdrivers of all types
To turn my guts inside out
With spanners of all sizes
To tighten up my nuts

He’s sitting on my lap
Reading me my book
My favorite childish book
He’s putting me down
Into a deep slumber
With his sweet lullaby
My grave been prepped in advance
Somewhere down the street
Next to the Milky Way  

Library lifter
Soul collector  
Made a good job
Once again

Read through my face
All the signs
Gripped you again to demise
Fly till you crash
For only you can see those lights

Giving away all the crowns
Creepy night
Glitter free
Crystal clean
On the roof
The birds
Singing lullabies
The ***** ones
Once again

November days
Bewitching in a sense
I stare out of the window
Muddle-headed
Such sulky looks of passersby
And withered roses on the desk
Same sulkiness and withering in me
Forever

Hushed whispering in my head
Slammed it into a wall
No regrets
Of being mad
Of being led to yawning chasm
With sizzling heat and fuss
And iced black coffee
With no sugar
And cigarettes Saigon

This state has run wild from snowdrifts and frosts
In inconsistency and licentiousness
In mind-blowing screech
In the burdens of pre-Christmas anticipation
I look out for a phrase that matches the rhythm patterns
Nothing to fall into place
Everything turns and twists
In an ugly pandemonium

Dashing downstairs
Ridiculously hasty
Slightly inebriated
Swaying on the waves
Don’t quite understand what’s going on
Who’s taken my mind away
Gonna burn clay pots
Since it’s funnier than burning myself
You admire the portrait of the chieftain!
Let his confident smile invigorate you
Screams, jokes
No
Silence (as it usually happens in pitch-black)
Planning takes place only in the north
In the south, they got total freedom
And we are somewhere in the middle
We don’t fancy planning
Yet we make plans diligently
Since we know it has to be rewarded
Since rewards do take place
Go try to find this place
Go to the dense forests
You go the right way,
Comrades!

Please don't bother
Don't pull the trigger
Your heart's throbbing
Just clear your throat
TV remoteness and social media starvation
You're all alone
Being out
Boozing with your friends
Please don't pay attention
Try to concentrate
Your chapped lips
They ask for someone's help
But there's nobody around
They don't hear you
Please don't bother
Just use your moisturizing lipstick
Aren't you having fun?

Brick wall
You've built
So solid
I hardly feel at ease
The truth, however, is
It ultimately breaks

Self-protection
Selfishness
Into the blue blue water
I plant my tree
Greener consumption
They say
I’m afraid it’s not

Tickling your neck
With my dry lips
I drink from the puddle
Its filthy, poisonous water
Through me it flows
A single glimpse
It’s enough
For today

Haven’t you dead yet?
Where have you been led to?
Finally crafted disguise
Intricate patterns
Bruises and gouged eyes
They throw away leaflets
Giving way to their teenage angst and anger
Twisting their arms and wrists
Containing their scream and laughter
Captured by odious ideas
They make their way through
Until sudden gush of the wind
Carries them back
Places them each to the proper cell
Passionate lovers
Drama kings
Ice queens
Showmen and women
Once they shrivel up and die
Nobody remembers them
Memory’s full
Don’t forget to clean it regularly
From the vivid impressions
It’s perfectly legal
Don’t be afraid!
You’re just in time!

the famed recluse suddenly opens the shutter
just to peek out at the world
stinking of bleach
you’d better have a sharp nose
if you are blind
if you can’t distinguish
between black and white
your only crutch is
filling up your stomach
to get some warmth
at least
deep down inside

the illusion of life
sighted are those
who crack its invisible meaning
they hit the target
even though
they might not really mean it (so)
trigger-happy
never batting an eyelid
never thinking twice

the blind ones touch anything smelling nice
always reaching out
for some sense
do you need to keep rolling the dice (blind)?
in the end
you are doomed to choke with carbon monoxide
don’t take offense
where is your mind?
gentleman
it’s high time for you
to decide

It swivels like a chair
Great combination
With passion and commitment
Immaculate anticipation
You have to put it in
And knock it into shape
Remember nothing
Same clueless quotes
Behind your back
Same sniggering

Let’s cover it with sugar icing
Lick it up
Your boots
Let them rub against your skin
Rise again
Hold your nerve and don’t forget
About climate changes
Break up with your illusions
So outrageous
Count the outputs
Check your numbers
Stay calm
When cats and dogs are fighting
You leave them behind your back

How come
Your head comes off
Sneaky little smile
On your face
Calling me back
Don’t get into a flap
Caught into a trap
Your savior behind
Pushing you back
How come

A blessing in disguise
There’s enough salt in a salt shaker
To make it exactly twice
Excess carbon dioxide
In the air
Snow on my teeth
A phrase stood there
Frozen on the tip of my tongue
Kept it to myself
Nobody got it
No light
For the rest of the day
For it’s winter
Some more
Nightmares
Restless sleep
Then spring, summer,
Fall, winter...
And spring
(Back to life)

we will fight
against you all
all the time
we will beat
our head against the wall
we will die
and you will notice that
for sure
you will cry
but no one helps you
anymore

Guiding light
Tender is the night
Coffee is black
Milk is white
Shall we still mix it?

green clamor
June agony
I'm lying
like couch potato
here on the balcony
with my brains out

huge icicle falls down onto my head
i remain silent
as if nothing's happened
how are you?
hope you alright?
yes, i'm fine, thanx
no problem
i can hardly speak
no problem
i can hardly breathe
no problem
i can hardly feel
no problem
now i see
you can hardly live
that's life
that's how we all live

I hear
Those background noises
Lonely passengers
Trapped into a pitch black darkness
You've been kicked out of this championship
You've lost your consciousness

What an unbelievably cool breakthrough
That has been
It deserves your attention
Now put it into a dustbin

This May breaks my head apart
As well as the night breaks the day
From the window I see the sun shine
But I have to stay online
****
What a ****** I am

gray brittle phrases
where's my osteopath
fed up with thoughts and hypotheses
with my soaked shoes
with my own self forever standing out
how tall are you, you brat
countryside
otherwise
otherside
misery of shallow waters
overused leitmotifs
simplistic mottos
approximation when it comes to numbers
nostalgia when i have to deal with childhood photos
casuistic morals
opportunist goals
the vigour of distrust
whenever i think of social distancing or social media

the concept of not being involved
similar to not being alive
yet it's better than being dead
that's my life

having wings
obliges you to fly
à toute allure
we do quite well  
having just 0.5
time will start running backwards
i will stop thinking at all
and won't fall asleep
never
all I want is
having those wings back