Interfere journey Interference body Sweaty Write Mud
mind Breath getty Read Reference speed Preference encryp
To Two Time Self ready flow sacrifice beliefs feeling elf pelt
killing part of myself scuffing dreams bare in the air unfair  
outspent **** wiped well being clean provoked hell feeding on mean cornmeal convulsing restitution fed invertly beans bent
soul over to pilot retribution empty zeal stomach destitution
inside the pit spirit fly guide escape veal travel ways of savage meal
out the side five wing soar glide abide Nein but fine wine being shine

From the topmost twig of the tallest tree
A solitary bird sang his song so sweet:
The meaning (if meanings birds can intend)
Could I , mere human, ever comprehend?
Maybe he sang out the joy of his life,
Or maybe he sang to attract a wife.
His little song drifted out far and wide,
Sweet music of the springtime country side.
It passed by my ears and went far beyond,
Across the meadow and over a pond
In which were reflected clouds from above
That moved through the sky like lovers in love.
Soon, from a thicket, a birdsong came back--
The same kind as his, but a different track.
I heard it on air as it made its way
To the bird in the tree, as if to say:
"I hear your voice calling out to me,
And I'm here with you in the top of my tree,"
The first bird replied in a joyous tone,
Elated (I thought) knowing he was not alone.

The tinge of secondhand cigarettes fill the air,
Meshing with the scent of a stale motel.
The waft of solitary *** lingers on the unmade beds.
The dilapidated roofing, cracked and chipped,
Threatens to fall on its ghostly residents,
Who care little for the subpar shielding,
Which lets in the acid rain and crumbs of insulation.
The outside, which was once filled with children
Blowing bubbles, filling the moving air with floating life,
Now rests as a statue grey, unnerving in stasis.
Behind the front desk stands the concierge-
As timeless as the cobwebs in the corners and
Dust on the grandfather clock, long since unmoving.
"He was once a great man, as tall as Yggdrasil itself"
Residents were once told.
Now he stands grey and hunched,
As his residents lay sedated and soft.

You conduct, around a god not too know if real!

So what in life, is too his appeal taking all your desires and reels.

Not me I live, with only one thang creating betterment of all.

So fade, from his shades and resume with fake sins.

Creators of God, begone from my reality I will decode your reasons

some words are like mirrors
i could see a reflection
of me.

Caught a wave,
snatched the chance
to ride the tide;
took me straight
through the goosebumps,
the antennae
of the skin
protracted and receiving

...and the ripples multiplied

I always thought
the depths were cold,
not warm
but melody knows best
and I can't wait
to be surprized
holding breath
in the uneasy calm
before the storm

Only for an instant
can you witness the parting
of the mist over the ocean.

The heavy
pink curtain collapses,
swallowing the wavering shore
in its fumes

divides the sky in separate columns
          of gold and silver
in a single sensual gesture;


no existing border could be made out:
The dunes were a few meters
higher! The sky reached out to us
in the shadow of the water lines.



©2017 Alex Bex - www.alexbex.net

Could there be no love
For me to dive deep
Lost in pitch dark
Rest in nowhere
Could there be no pain
To Heal me bad
Write me melody
Remember nothing

I remember
What is not exist
I bathe in
What is not wet
Numb in roam
I continue my walk
I tread on the air
Read fading signs
I have nowhere to in
So lost and bewildered

What if I go back
And delete our first scene
So there would be no love
And pain
I would have clear sight
And wide lungs to breathe
Empty sheets
And goodness saying