It imposes itself on everything, and everything becomes a rotten ***** because it has seen itself. Beneath the surface, moving, cocktail-drinking, bubbly V.I.P. exclusive evenings, insidious snake hisses, double entendres, universal sunken rot. Career graveyards at a loss become compulsive shapeshifters in pursuit of larger goals, looting dreams. In addition to a carefree lifestyle, it is necessary to take on grief and dirt with a toaster. Sooner or later, even the absolute winners are driven out of the race.

Only Death can bring comfort and consolation. To body and soul alike it offers a semblance of equality.- Daily shedding their reptilian-veined skins are the Janus-like Angels, saints, pretending prophet-greats. Whose daily ruined lives they ruin, They notice nothing but the virtue, if it pops, or if they lack the necessary sum To preserve the ruins of their sham happiness.

It may be that everything has long since been decided according to the suggestion of self-interest. Perhaps, with a little effort, petty kings and loyalty stooges could stay afloat in economic life-and-death struggles, bargaining even at the cost of their miserable lives to serve the legitimate institutions of cheap lies like prodigals: to dream is folly.

But for now, surely, it is better for many to bellow, to bend their heads and shout, to bang others' heads against the wall, shouting democratic slogans - the respectable historical chronicle will also record this in a falsified form, but people will have no trace of it when the moral balance has cooled down!

SOUL-ARDS



From my eyes there flowed the coagulated eyeballs of honest incredulity; chains of true pearls were lined up under my baggy eyes like clumps of onion-clusters! In feverish, timeless grayness, my rebellious finger-tips ***** ever after instinct-secrets! With my senile self long since pregnant, I have regrown my outcast, my Golgotha-maiden! I think of only one thing: where and how could I have begun anew with my soul-mate another, more substantial, and perhaps wiser life?!


In my being there still ticks the timeless, proud beating of the Universe in ever more agitated, wicked time-bomb beats; in my metaphors still intertwine eternal, immortal compliments of love and all-powerful romances! Outside, paralyzed Minotaurs flock, hoping for mimic-majestic riches, and, looking into the invisibility of their curved mirrors, curiously peer at the compromising world!


The mature soul, thought lost, wanders into prehistoric massive-syrupy solitude to rediscover the palpable depths of Being! Before me and after me, my closed-uncertain future and gaping, personalized mines for my ashes, which have been for some time decaying with the molecules of my cells; my romance, my beauty, crashes into the ******* air-wall of Nothingness and chokes me for the umpteenth time in melancholy! - Like a knife in soft butter, I should sum up the fragments of my memories backwards in my account of what has happened, so that I may move forward more courageously!

Above the bridge railing I stare down into the silently yawning, whirling throats; a whirling, centrifugal vortex-wheel drags me along, pulls me, and pulls! Balanced on a thin, snow-white blade, thus is he who was cast out into life! Gathering crumbs of breadcrumbs through a lifetime, Till Death, like a lawful chase, takes him! With narrowing eyes curiously fixed on me, the wan shadows of shipwrecked souls Past-remembering, meek shadows emerge from mire-thrown foam; Witnessing guardians of the possible that is!


As aerial-gymnast-samples, we may all thus balance the many certain possibilities; at another planned turn, veronal, foam of water, or poison is of no use - with conscious cowardice, human dignity confidently fails us! I stumble between reckless tumbles with purpose. I would even lie flat, like Sinbad, like a petty nobody, and probe the beating heart-******* of angelic ladies! May I remain in my falling, fallen life who I was: an eternal child in an arrogant adult world!


Thick and unsteady even now is the black, roiling stream. I feel that I have often run out of strength to face every trial like a murdering *******! The old Danube still murmurs and calls me to it! - Nowadays, the circus and the bustling ant-hill of the great world are so merged that the heart of the prodigal little man is always trembling, when he looks into the flashing, decaying Tomorrows with dignified and faltering eyes!

A hundred years from now, a party girl, a cosmetic, plasticised goddess, will be so at home that she will be despised by the average man, as one who fears for his petty career and trembles! Honour deliberately digs a pit in the bottom of the pit of calculating games, and no one cares about the chattering mouth-carat of the puppets in the tabloid media!

The new-avant-garde prose line of poems is shouted down, saying: one-night stands have more east! Morals and humanity long since shed, mothers of children can't know what an uncertain livelihood and a messy tomorrow might bring!


The trembling, weeping cries of the little angels shiver like painful vapours in the abandoned alleyways of the streets! - What this present ******* Kor is extracting from itself, and creating, its pathetic beneficiaries are also, like molehills, hiding in underground, apocalyptic worlds, chewing on the hard-to-get, gnawing colonies!

A greedy food-chain insidiously lurks in the tunnels of each one's secret instincts; the strong devour the weak, the weak the weakest, and while the Golgotha-stricken vulnerable clamour for more reprieves from the company of lords and petty kings, their pathetic shipwrecked lives are consciously fearful - no-man's-land, fly-**** infects their chances of survival too!

We should learn the Human being again: empathy-tolerance! Pushing into the deepening pits of the wretched while the remnants of the evil that keeps germinating! Every Man is a corpse-One and only lonely star-island, brooding in himself; His bleeding points of Odyssean wounds are bruised and bruised by inner soul-demons at their pleasure! The graceful flutter of black night-butterflies With angel wings sprouting, cherishing Goodness! Into the tiny cups of loyalty-hands Should be placed, as a secret gift of grace, The purple-planet of the throbbing heart: the palpable metamorphoses of Being!

Man may forever submit and surrender to the magically unexpected moments; fluttering shadows fly on the spider-webs of trembling done destinies! The childish curiosity of ripe incompleteness still vibrates in the balmy evening stillness. In every star-gaze, as a reckoning, there stretches a drop of untold glass-bead!

I've played my ever-childish roles often enough: the hissing penguin chubby as well as the orphaned, wailing, whimpering child! And I only wondered when, among all the curiosity-seekers, would Morality and Love ever join hands to shake my hand?! - It would be nice to get out of this troubled, shipwrecked earthly circle once and for all! To learn to believe and trust again!

To feel romantic, breathless sighs like secret X-ray magnets in another's beating heart, when the rose-fingered Dawn greets us daily with her honeyed rays!

The fear-tension in my heart is growing to literary proportions! My eternal-childish self is constantly fighting battles of existence between peace and eternal anger! I feel I cannot run away from the haunting dragon-demons of my uncertain future! However, if I were to ask friends to know with calm empathy the hidden reflection of my self, many would already give up their secret, cohesive relationships; superficial exhibitionism would hardly leave them any choice!

In my soul, there still exists a sinking, tossing, more peaceful Atlantis: a micro-macro Cosmos in the process of destruction! Sisyphus, disappearing on a bulldozer, whose pensive, otherworldly voice is for the umpteenth time deliberately distorted into nothingness! From a succession of memories, memories melt into smiles! - It seems triumphant annihilation when the Universe goes round and universally proclaims the universal naseous desire of blood molecules!

The trembling despair of rich shadows clinging to each other is like countless desert lives! The balmy evening breeze still circulates on high. The restless night, like a chill envelope, shivers and shivers the complex nerves! The honey-coloured sunbeams still cling like sunflowers to the scaly blood of cracked petals! A sky-high air, pregnant with proud light, is drained and dewy! - Unmerciful Being, like brown eyes, stares longingly at me: mortal minutes cease, for only the mischievous, pure curiosity shines like a sizzling magnet in existence!

Insanity and disregard for the most elementary human interest is always unavoidable and often fatal! A series of ingeniously tragic coincidences can at any time challenge the individual, still thinking childlike individual while too much of the World is lost without end! A rush of creative ingenuity lurks in everyone, and all ideas and plans go up in smoke when there is less and less to choose from the industrious chain of multiple connections!


In this century of the information cyber-revolution, conscious, lazy idleness is just as visible and tangible! A wide variety of spectacles and cleavages are always caught by the curious camera: the retouched smearing of indispensable eye make-up is rarely noticed; the question to be answered is: what has changed?! - The booming melody of horns blaring from the bones of horns screams in our faces, proclaiming that something has happened to the city and its fallible people! The stench of "Nothing's right!" is getting worse! - is not right!


It is as if everything and everyone has turned into empty shells, sinking in on themselves, like our stinking refuse to be thrown away!

Unfinished business is the most difficult business of our days! Where are the formulas of our Faithfulness in handshakes and hide and seek?! Grimacing and smiling long in the fierce curved reflections of ***** pools, Our self's sad, bleeding gaze! A faint suspicion might be trusted and always justified: for the conciliatory feelings of homeliness, all that is needed is a little unusual cynicism!

Something within is shrinking, at first barely perceptible, then greedily gnawing away at the hell of human souls gone gangrenous! In accordance with the laws of humanity, a belated realization signals its protest that we must necessarily drop out of the fairy-tale wave-net system at last! To the thought of a single romantic *******, many eyes are already scattering sparks, responding with dry flashes!

What can the man of the Age imagine the trampled humanity, the continuous mud-dripping of his personality's Celeb-bubble?! Having gazed into each other's disembodied eyes, we suddenly found ourselves in a hall of mirrors, a seldom-seen earthly copy of ourselves; still the heartbeat of the heart is still beating and beating! Like a poisonous greenhouse effect, a sprawling crowd of jerks and jerks is growing, and if no one will be a prophet-scholar to speak out against pop-cultural, superficial cultures, the paint will soon peel off our faces!

Not a single encounter - not many - will be made in the sacred spirit of the harmonies that can be created! - Soon there will be at least ten billion self-serving droids serving with ant diligence, wandering willfully without independent thought in the halls of mirrors that cover their lives!

I no longer care about fashion because of old-fashioned flavours! Rid yourself of your newfound susceptibility to new fashions, who cares only for the telltale signs of appearances! The reconciliation of interests may soon suffer from a difference of tastes! What does the exceptionalist trend mean?! Have we stopped noticing others simply by their dress code, so that we can mix with the sophisticated, elegant elite?

The Acts and the Sacrifices are thus placed together, in a conspiracy, in a pretended stalemate, for fear of what the patrician public would say if many of them showed their teeth! - And if the superficiality of the health-obsessed, all-embracing superficiality is enough to make you very nervous; it might be a problem-solver to try to see the exceptional One among many like him! In the glass of curved mirrors, even difference looks different!

In penultimate glances, can the Good Friends of Faith be recognised?! Gyugyok and Timotheus Tikitakik?! - Already in every respect there lurks silently the cold rejection withheld; a conceited misunderstanding cleaves their heads and may yet keep them in cage-captivity! An imperial rank of impossible dreams, that someday Someone or Something will do without them all! Even now some conscious distrust is spreading among them!

More interesting has become every cheap-fangled sensationalist Celebrity-pilot; peaceful at-home sit-at-home conversations with sticky masses of secrets, instead of messages from sinking airships!

Female Eden smiles sparkle toward my wounded Soul; in the depths of my purple heart, tamed monsters purr obediently! In the jungle of my dreams, I remember the superstitious play of mischievous eyes laughing at the subconscious night inside! His eyelashes fluttered gracefully like the wing-dance of night butterflies; the earthly, classic Beauty flew like a pillar! My empty evenings are buzzing around wasp stars! I never tore up the superstitious fruits of forbidden gardens, but I wanted to caress them kindly!
 
I was attacked by jealous, flame-burning Cherubim who could only flirt overnight with the immortal crumbs of Happiness while wasting the treasures of the beautiful Universe! "Lions and tigers farm under our gardens, while deep-seated beasts are waiting for their prey!" How can we stay again Humans if in this Age of barbaric usa the idiot Stupidity alone thrives ?!
 
The sadness of the passing Being is therefore torn to us at every moment and the cranky Time is mercilessly swept away! "I'm a spark, and yet Alien forces can smash it at any time!" Yet my soul embraces the changing Universe and vibrates with it for a single beat! Space statelessness often rumbles over me and makes me account! Can all finite human stories be heard, or are celebrities just remembered ?! - Graffiti crashing into a sensation-hungry society!
 
The stimuli of escapes in the soul must have already infected the deeds of the Prophets! The phlegmatic stupid indifference is grouped into unconditional reflexes.