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2d · 32
The Bard
S I N 2d
He was, he is, and ever will be
The most famous bard; by th’ name of Will; he
A question posed that’s baffled generations
“To be, or not to be...”; by these one very very words alone
reserved himself he the star-studded throne
Among th’ infinite constellations
From whence he came, and whither he did go:
For ‘ndeed ‘tis was for him too much ado;
Too much alike to those one star-crossed lovers
He was unhappy in his life; but once it’s over
Was - he did arise; not from his grave,
But to eternity to thrive
Among th’ eternal things, fair and sublime
With not even the palest peer,
Or the worthy rival to challenge his position
Where he still stands as if the exhibition’s
Greatest monument; which, well, he is
That shines so bright so no one could him miss
S I N 5d
I know what you want,
But I refuse you to give it
It was never my wont
To comfort with this base ****
S I N 7d
Fell on my roof and broke he my shingle
Hitherto soaring an angel, fair and atingle
He tried, you see, with birds to mingle,
But no bird did acknowledge him, not even a single;
So thus being denied - he decided to die;
He folded his wings and swooped down from the height;
Just like one of his own, so long time ago,
He fell to the bottom, and I witnessed his fall;
With a rake did I stand, daring not to attend
To this one, but I meant him no harm;
But only to help to regain him of dwelt
His right place; his birthplace; but that look on his face
Prevent me from doing so; that look of a woe
Told me all that I needed to know;
Woebegone; but I hauled him and tried
(Though in vain) to drag him; so tired already was this seraphim
In unconsciousness even; this indeed I could felt; but then eyelids of his he did rise;
In surprise he looked all around; he saw me;
I Am Grateful To Thee, said he to me
The Place In The Heaven Secured Now For Thee,
But Now I Must Walk; and pale as a chalk
He himself from my arms did absolve; all resolved and determined he stepped on a road
So I thus for the first time an angel behold
Jan 16 · 312
All The Same
S I N Jan 16
O yes, dear friend, we all do die the same;
In poverty, in misery and shame
Jan 16 · 29
The Things
S I N Jan 16
The Things; they are indeed so different from this point of view;
They change their forms, their aspect and the hue;
The things are upside-downed with their Intestines strewn and smashed and reek of newly written picture to the sky does up
And up; it soars above distinctly as the morning sky in mourning of the scythéd rye; the swathéd rye; ye fellow rise and cry
Emit and fly and die and rise from maggots to the damnéd earth condemned to fly in space with the eternal dearth
This being that to bear;
So how you think
Shall I as
well
a toast
Apply to a sheet some ink?
Ink Knee weal leave lark crawl
S I N Jan 13
Night, drugstore, the street, the lantern,
The meaningless and pallid light,
May you live some years hereafter,
All be the same, no ‘scape from blight

You die - commence another potter,
And everything the same alright:
The chilling ripple of the water,
The Street ,the drugstore, lantern, night
The translation of Aleksandr Blok’s poem
Jan 11 · 27
The Vicious Circle
S I N Jan 11
Today I was humiliated, shamed and killed,
I stood there as that one condemned to th’ execution,
Unable there to find no fair solution,
Imbibe my words with soothing, lulling lilt

It was as hard as walk through pool of fire
Where all the other sinners boil to crust,
But wade through this unstoppably I must
To reach the other shore more vile and dire

And at the end there’s nothing but great pain,
As one realization starts to take me over
And as the trunk it strives to roll me over,
That all the path I’ll have to walk again
So all the tape again, anew re-reeled
Today I was humiliated, shamed and killed
S I N Jan 7
Do you remember that time,
That magnificent time, when together we
Were on the beach, you and I;
We were lying and smiling and playing
Whereas
Little crickets were singing their songs in
The grass;
Little children were fidgeting with their little things
Looking just like a cherubs without their
Wings;
And the days were so warm, and the sun
That did shine,
And the sound of the waves; and the gulls
‘Bove the brine;
It was long time ago,
Lot of things to and fro
Had gone by
Since that time
Where were just you and I;
I Believing that mine
You will be forever;
But now standing here with so, with so
Misty a
Weather,
And holding so tightly, so tightly a feather
That to me as a present
You gave me, you gave me so long time ago
And here just  I am, and your grave, and the crow
S I N Jan 3
I am Destroyer of the World,
I am the Death itself, behold
My deeds and dread ye, common mortals,
While looking at you all I chortle
In disdain, contempt and  scorn
And with the teeth of ye adorn
my ******-crimson garment I
While to your children lullaby
You, Mother, sing
to lull them to their sleep
At night, o night, o night  the very last,
And matters not how hard you grasp
The last of threads of the world’s canvas,
But End is nigh of yours, alas;
So clench your hands in your last prayer
As fractures of the world last layer
S I N Dec 2019
I write this to get your attention,
This piece doesn’t convey any meaning
Whatsoever; this one is just for your love;
For sometimes I need this; just as you are
In need of love and
Hahahhah
Attention
Oh my
It’s hard not to laugh at the view of a
Space expanding ever
Oh sh f it s hard to strain oneself
Yourself
Myself
From
Ohhhhh haha haha
Oh you can’t
Thou canst not even picture it
O my head so a jumble man
Yo bruh sez myman how come you are so high so low so late time eh
Oh it bothers you you little sh
Come here and I ******>The broken glass and spilled kvas
I was just a child that time
The splinters in my ankles and thighs
It hurts all the same
O
Right
I forgot what it was all about
Never mind
Happy new cycle
Piece **** pls
Dec 2019 · 122
The Snail
S I N Dec 2019
The snail so slowly climbs a
Mountain, past thickets and brushes and
Branches; climbing the ***** up to the
Apex, past the fountain and din of the
Fallen water; inexorably leaving its slimy
Wake behind it; greasy yellow hue of the
Sun reflecting in the spilled oil
Katatsumuri
sorosoro nobore
Fuji no yama
Dec 2019 · 34
The Town’s Breathing
S I N Dec 2019
The Town breathes, you just
Need to halt and hark for a moment;
There is blood flows through its veins;
And you easily can see it; you just need
To stop for a second and see it; the town
Lives its own life whether you like it or not;
Don’t deny it; you just need to be aware of
It when your tread its paved streets next
Time; you need to understand the
Mechanism behind it; you need to
Comprehend that you are one of an
Infinite amount of particles scurrying
Around; if you just at least pretend to
Believe in it then everything will start
Peu à peu to make some sense; till Then
Once in a time cease your eternal roaming
And just listen to hear something that can
Change your life
Dec 2019 · 157
A Snowflake
S I N Dec 2019
It is a fact well known
That a snowflake In its pure and perfect form
Never resembles her near-falling sister
While all of them create a shimmering glisten,
As if of a dew-strewn meadow, but in the sky;
Hushing up the resounding far distant cry
Dec 2019 · 46
Skyward-bound
S I N Dec 2019
His look is always skyward
Bound
He treads the earth, he’s not yet
Found
What’s his been looking for for years
But doesn’t he despair
Does he?
Oh no, not he;
He firmly strides th’ infirment earth
Not looking at his feet at all
For what it is to him whose looks
T’ distinguish try the Heavens’ nooks
Amidst the grazing clouds; he walks
And dreams of life up there despising
Our earthly deeds and talks,
How we scurry all life long
Around and round we know not what;
And so he always there with mind
But the soul of his is in latticed plight,
It trapped within the bonds of flesh,
And so he makes his final dash,
To ‘midst the angels be rebirth,
And so at last he leaves the earth
Dec 2019 · 38
The Old Woman
S I N Dec 2019
Have you ever noticed those
Grandmas, who stand in the middle of
The road without purpose and as if lost;
Not in the middle of a conversation or
Waiting for a bus on a stop; just some part
Of a road you would least expect it to see
Someone standing there all alone
Especially a senile woman all alone; but
There she stands inconceivable and
Baffles you as you walk by noticing her
Though only on the periphery of your
Vision; and thus your paths diverge w/out
Both of you acknowledging it; but you still
Go on and she still stands there all by
Herself; and that is the truth
Dec 2019 · 50
A Dark Shimmer
S I N Dec 2019
It is like in a certain room to be
Alone, no windows and not even
A door;
And so you sit or even lie
There prone,
And the darkness emits
So strange an odor
Which is too hard to scorn but neither to adore;
And all you see is an unfathomable
Darkness
Which nonetheless does shine
And shimmer with all its dark brightness;
So bright it could blind you; but if you are
Blinded by darkness then could you regain
Your sight by
Shiness?
Dec 2019 · 73
Last Toll
S I N Dec 2019
Last curtain call, to pay
last passage toll; to cross the side;
to take a ride; the future is behind us,
for we can't see it; the past is right in
front of us, for we can see it clearly;
so every step we take may be our last;
but we just want it to be fast; "Make it
Fast", they usually say; but why; we are
Afraid to cross that bridge and pay that
Toll; for we are afraid of that what awaits and
Entices us there; so we ever falter at that moment
Of transition; and never will stop;
For that mystery curtained did always baffle us
And always will
Dec 2019 · 125
Deathbound
S I N Dec 2019
We all are deathbound since
Our very birth; and deathward we
Despite of all do crawl
Dec 2019 · 43
The Star-Rovers
S I N Dec 2019
His body’s lying in the river,
It drifts and bears him onward to the
Life after this life; its limbs are stiffened
And swollen because of water saturating
This vessel; the night is young though
Stars are already a-gleaming in the ocean
Of the Darkness above his way; but they
Are indifferent to our sins and miseries
And atonements; for star-rovers are
Higher than we are; they are hitchhiking
The interstellar interstates; complaining
Of high density of the meteors and
Garbage from earth; maybe he’ll join them
For he has nothing to go to no more nor
That he had one you know  but now at
Least he’s provided with a choice to roam
The sky or to be drowned and be a
Plummet and anchor of the progress
Dec 2019 · 59
The Modern Prometheus
S I N Dec 2019
The Modern Prometheus is
Not being plucked in the liver by the
Vultures; he is constantly detoxicated by
The ***** instead
S I N Dec 2019
At the bottom of the ocean
It is so quiet, there is no motion
You to disturb, it’s so serene
Amidst the corals red and green;
Can’t see no light,nor one you need,
For to the herds of water steeds
The light is nothing but a snare,
And so are you should be beware
While treading bottom of the earth,
Where of the fuss is such a dearth,
Bur what a pleasure ‘tis, indeed,
To be devoid of vicious greed
Of those who tread the the earth above
Knowing naught of Earth’s true love
Dec 2019 · 166
The Moon King
S I N Dec 2019
The light of hue of stiffened corpses
Pervades the air while fallen horses
Lie there dead with maggots crawling
Inside theirs putrefied  abdomens
While the residues of slaughter
Precipitate with birds a-rotten
Falling from the crimson sky,
Being portents of the nigh
Impending blizzard of
Disaster
Which is too Strong to try to cast it
Out  from these dooméd lands
While in the mean time weaken hands
Of our Great King to cease determine
Not; but nor fair mornings
Our Greatest King shall see
So to the Moon his final plea
He offers, docile, week and feeble
While in his neck the poisoned needle
Is put by his most loyal friend,
But this all shall come to an end;
So, lo, dear friend, to thee I bring
The head of our Fallen King!
Dec 2019 · 61
Reverse Rainbow
S I N Dec 2019
Even the gravity’s rainbow is
Upside-down right now; reflecting in the
Lake with only colors of the nebulas
Unknown; as if a wreath on the brow of
The being itself, but tarnished and worn
And lack of all colors but those of
Unknown; don’t you forget it; for when
It starts falling, no power will save you
From its merciless rage
Dec 2019 · 56
The Shadow
S I N Dec 2019
There is a lonely shadow that
Roams the street at night in search of her
Body, but she can’t, for it is buried under
The earth without any intention to leave
Its new humble abode; and it dwells there
In peace, and in sorties the ants looking
For pieces to steal and to bring to the
Queen; but the Shadow still wanders and
Travels the earth; the beginning of time
She beheld , and of the end she will be the
Observant; th’ immortal and the most
Docile servant; and no one to talk to and
No one to speak with; so she trails ever
Onward; with no sense and no purpose,
With no one to back her or lend helping a
Hand; so she strides and she cries with no
Hope for an end
Dec 2019 · 103
The Blank Unknown
S I N Dec 2019
The veil of white; no visible
Horizon; the blizzard roars and swirls;
We stand there all alone in this vast world;
Can see nothing but each other; no more
Is important; the lake is encased in crispy
Crust of ice; it creaks and moans under
The gust; the legs are freezing and we
Sway to and fro a little just to save some
Of the warmth; the sky and the horizon are
Aligned into one blank white nothingness;
We know there is a shore beyond there;
But it is hard a thing to believe in, for our
Minds refuse to acknowledge the fact of
Something being way over yonder; and so
We stand and we watch while the lashes
Of the wind scratch our crimson faces
And with the claws strive to tear our skin
And make ours eyes moisten and it is
Almost intolerable an ordeal to merely
Stand there as statues of a time long
Gone and past; but we do stand there
With our gazes staring beyondward
Into the ever-receding and unreachable Unknown
Dec 2019 · 82
The Hollow King
S I N Dec 2019
In a very distant land I believe there is a
King; he is old decrepit and withered; no
Servants and no Knaves beside him; no
Queen to be the solace of his miserable
Being; he perched upon his throne and
Do nothing but beholds his sank in
Calamity Kingdom; the old tokens of His
Might and Sway may still be visible;
Bearing no power though; his mantle is
Crimson but dusty and shabby;
Somewhere even stiffened and resembles
A crust; his skin is placid and paled and
Peeling with flakes which fall and mound near au pied of his throne; no sounds
Resound but his moans and groans
From pain or from despair or some other
Misery is not known; but the thing that is
True is the fact that he suffers and craves
For the former boons; he wishes his plight
Was restored to that of an ephebe; but
Alas; leave all thy hopes thou King since
Long Ago of Nothing; forsaken is thy
Kingdom, come no prosper to thee nor
Posterity will thrive nor any herb will reside
These barren lands of yours; for we reap
What we sow and when thou sowest
Tempest
Thou shalt reap the sprouts of
Despondency
Dec 2019 · 84
The Modern Thinker
S I N Dec 2019
In a posture of a Thinker i do
Sit; my head perched on a fist which is
Attached to an arm which concludes
In an elbow which rests on my knee; the
Tile is aquamarine; the door is ajar for
There is some problem with some hinges;
Not enough-ajar to see but sufficient
Enough to notice some discontent on
The visage; the pipe is running through
My place; beginning and ending though
Beyond my sight; so the rest of it does not
Exist; and so my head is proped up and in
My bowels the strife not for life but for
Death cannot come to the conclusion;
No truce is possible i presume; as if
Someone wrings my intestines both large
And small; the wamble or a growl crumbles
My entrails and shakes them trying to
Displace then; all exertions are to no
Good ******* right was Tolstoy as
Always that there is only two truly
Important plights: good health and clear
Conscious; ******* the old man was
Right all along; though when I imagine him
In his loo of the 19th century doubling up
On his throne holding perhaps to the walls
In the moment of the endeavor to push to
Push to push O God to push forward O
Man that connotés to you something
But doesn’t change the fact that you are
Still in that tiled room with no means of
Escape but to fight and push your way
Through Oh there it goes like in the
Hospital they say to you Don’t go to
The white light but go now you must it
Is your time my man come on we’ve been
Through so much so come on go and be
And throes are in the way but that is okay
For This is the Way **** let it be and ohhhh
Bloop; Friction; Flush; off we go and may
Our paths shall never cross
Dec 2019 · 111
The Morning Ponderings
S I N Dec 2019
I prefer avoid using the
Public transport; when i have to go
Out early in the mornings, there are
Only two ways as my commute:
The traffic jam, the real queue of metal,
Man; and the sealed can on the rails with the slingshot attached to its roof; not bad
A thing itself; but early in the mornings it is
Usually crowded with scorching, scolding
Despising each other people; hard to
Avoid thinking something negative in a
Place like this; so I would rather just walk
To my place of study; to study people and
Actions and their consequences by the
Mere observing; for ‘tis my the only work
For now: to observe and note
Dec 2019 · 68
The Observer
S I N Dec 2019
Peeking through the morning haze
Moon in its a-waning phase
Gazes with ever placid face,
Not devoid of any grace,
To behold, observe and mark
Every flutter, cry and bark,
Every drooping of a flower
Bending under dewy bower,
Every ripple in the lake,
Every plant, the true or fake,
To the beholder doesn’t make
It any difference at all;
The dune, the creek, the waterfall,
So different and yet so strange,
So alike to waning Sage
Dec 2019 · 293
Haiku (The Whales)
S I N Dec 2019
The wailing of whales
Resounds below the water
The cries of seagulls
Dec 2019 · 64
Haiku (The Skyscrapers)
S I N Dec 2019
The four skyscrapers
Looming on the horizon
The poplars fallen
Dec 2019 · 116
Haiku (The Morning)
S I N Dec 2019
The sun arises
Changing the hue of the sky
The stretch of the fume
Dec 2019 · 213
Haiku (The Moon)
S I N Dec 2019
The Moon in the sky
Dangles like a big pale lightbulb
The lake is tranquil
Dec 2019 · 68
At a Hairdresser
S I N Dec 2019
It is good an exercise to write about what
Did happen to you during the course of
One day; so let me begin with something
Like this; I don’t like to cut my hair; no
Not like that; I don’t like my hair being cut
By someone; can’t really say why; I just
Don’t; there is no pain about it or a
Tragedy in it, you know; I don’t impersonate
Them and imagine the after-battle field
Strewn with thin prolonged bodies; agony
And fear of despair in their postures; no
Nothing like that; nor do I fell any remorse
About being almost bald; I don’t really
Much care about my outer look; I just
Want not to look as a complete freak;
To look just fine, that is all what I ask for;
And I hold no grudge against my
Hairdresser; I changed three of them
So far; not because they were bad;
No; they are Professionals; it’s just
Happened like that; circumstances;
I don’t look at myself in the mirror
During this process; never analyzed it;
Saw no point; that is something inner
Prolly; Freudian stuff; this ******* is
Everywhere, you know; can’t say one
Word in the circle of the shrinks without
Being labeled with some unrighteous
Deviation (“as if there are righteous” my
Bruh sez in the furthest angle with a cup
Of cigarette ash); so I don’t look at myself;
Nor at my feet or my fallen hairs strewn
All around and on my feet; I look at the
Wall and through it to the very core of the
Earth; and there I see flame; but flame is
White; and it is not right
Dec 2019 · 110
Fist is a Fish
S I N Dec 2019
Aye Aye
You may not agree
But it will not change the truth
Live with it
And with love
Dec 2019 · 221
Mist
S I N Dec 2019
Only outlinings you can see
Of certain buildings in the mist
And not even one single tree
Is visible as in the east
No sun’s bright rays even permeate
Through the thickness of this foggy grid
S I N Dec 2019
I am afraid I’d die of dehydration,
So to subdue this wild agitation
Before myself t’ embrace of bed to throw
Wearily I to the kitchen go
And pour myself a glass of cold fresh water,
And every gulp succeeding is well shorter
Whereas the last of drops on my tongue sip
And of a loaf of bread I take a tiny nip
And then with inner peace within at last
I do commit myself to night’s so tender grasp
S I N Dec 2019
The cold and metal sterility of
Aisles as if the cobweb is stretching its
Threads in every direction of Wind Rose
All coming from core of the building
Prewar being pretty but now such a pity
To behold such a sight devoid of all bright
-ness and joy and just silver alloy is
Covering walls that just barely hold
The hulk bulk of this place O ‘Tis better
Erase every one and a-last my remembrance
Of past of this place O no grace was in
This nor in taking a **** in a sink or a
Bathtub a hot tub of water so scald just
To peel you off skin yours in a moment
Like this click-clack your body wrap
Around your bones though y’all are gone
From this den of all vilest and direst of
Creatures this world ever descry and was
Witness O no ‘tis place now occupied
With all fears and a fright of being
Dragged ‘nto that mess where no room
Was for lest you’d be one of their kind
But you need to get rind off these wall
And to fill all the holes with the bodies
Of moles yes of all moles in the world
You piece of O never mind a was just
******* and a **** in the sink
Of a bathtub whence water from time
Ago had all gone like o hell like you know
Vaporized leaving no trace for a plate
With a bread to be fed to that ones
Wretched dwellers who were all
Rolling Hellers till one day this one
Fellow ain’t show up in this joint
With his strap and his oint and
O no I just can’t I just cause you’re my
Friend but I can’t o please stop o
Please no o stop I can’t take i orghs


This one is out; bring another
This pile of **** to the others outside
Burn them after we done here
Dec 2019 · 67
What does truly matter?
S I N Dec 2019
This urge to write again engulfs me,
And don’t know I how to quench this thirst
To write but to write; whether it is good
Or bad I don’t know and ‘tis not upon me
To judge, thank God; but strange It is still;
This feeling, I mean; just like that out of
Nowhere and you grab your pen or
A phone and go; and you imbued with a
Feeling of doing something important,
Something worthy; like the only important
Thing in the world now, man, you know;
No good nor bad don’t exist to you:
It is just what you writes and how you
Feel about it; all other assessments saved
For later; right now you just do what you
Are supposed to, what you were born to
Do; something worth living for, maybe the
Only truly worthy thing in the entire world
That’s up to you man, though
Only to you
Dec 2019 · 55
Infinity
S I N Dec 2019
Being jammed in a tram,
What a shame and how lame
To be frailed in a train, to be tame
By a dame (of a size not a fey)
To be blame for a stay on a place for a maimed;
To see flame on a tray from the lights
Speeding by in a frame of a window
As if speeding through a limbo
With a gradus beyond zero
‘Stead of it lie on a pillow
Or being deadly on a billow
Amidst th’ infinity of eon
Dec 2019 · 61
Synecdoche
S I N Dec 2019
Oh God oh God it’s just a play
We play without knowing cues and acts
And roles and meaning of all that;
We just do what we have to do to get
To where we have to be at that precise
Moment in time without knowing why
Or for what O God I’m about to cry
I don’t know why and don’t know feel
How to this o God please forgive me for
All of that because I didn’t know I and
I doesn’t and I probably won’t and
I don’t know o God how could it be so
So so cruel and wild and obscure
Why should it be so how can it be so
I don’t know and don’t want come
To think of it for If I find out what
I think I will then there is no way
No point of doing nothing no o no
O please don’t be such as you are
For I can’t take it and I shouldn’t
And don’t have to but what is the other
Way which I don’t see and probably
Won’t and don’t care it’s just this just for
Now don’t know why or for what but it is
Just what it has to be my head is aching
Or my heart for need of writing this to
Don’t know who or why or to what
Purpose I don’t know I’m about to cry
Don’t know why or for what just let me be
Myself once in a life time now and then
And lead me o God o lead me through this
For I am ungrateful but I will but that’s not
The point or please be and stay o no
I don’t know how to be without
O I don’t know but I should but I must
And i will
I’m okay
Dec 2019 · 162
Haiku
S I N Dec 2019
The snow is falling
Covering the earth in white
Silence hangs above
S I N Dec 2019
God exists, this one I know for sure,
And though to some ‘tis may sound to obscure,
The evidence beheld I of his style
Though ‘tisn’t
too easy to express; just listen:
I was waiting for my friend,
We at the moment did intend
To go and do some exercise
At somewhere’s gym; but never mind;
And so was standing I, awaiting,
Amidst the square donned with the snow;
It crunched and crackled at my step,
The birds with wings above me flapped,
Some children bumping to each other,
Aside - theirs smiling mothers, fathers,
Some riding horses, big and little,
Of peddler’s goods the cheery brittle;
And just behind the row of birch
Emerged Of Holy Father Church;
This not my job to you describe
The Beauty of this fairest sight,
But ‘twas the good, the solemn site
Of modesty; and sheer delight
Derived the every one by-watcher
Who had a fleeting chance to watch her;
And so was I as mesmerized
As filled with ever-baffling fright
What one within so often may
Carry throughout the whole long day;
But wait and hark, for ‘tis important, just when the bell began to chime,
Converging everything, the time,
The place, the sight, the proper moment,
As if of something Greater token,
From sky so high above me then
The snow to fall from there began;
And was so tranquil that a scene,
That drove away my inner spleen,  
That I became with thought conceived
That some Great True was t’me revealed
Dec 2019 · 194
Presence of an essence
S I N Dec 2019
Gloomy, cloudy misty day,
Air suffused with silence fey,
Look is fixéd on the feet
Lest with dreamy eyes to meet
The glance of Darkness in a way
Of your windy path may stray
You on the stranded darkened beach
And fill you with a fever itch
To indicate the ghastly presence
Of extraterrestrial essence
Bonded with a world beyond
To which with tighten clasp he holds
To that of his; and not intends
To intervene with our mess
Dec 2019 · 74
The Barren Land
S I N Dec 2019
Some time already I’ve been walking,
Mu tongue dried out from lack of talking,
My feet was bleeding through the holes
In leather boots which had no soles;
The barren land behind me Was,
In front of me (of sunken nose)
Was nothing better, nothing worse
Just the landscape as well hoarse
With not one herb, or rill or well;
Not e’en vicinities of hell
I’m sure were such a wretched view,
Where e’en a little drop of dew
Was worthy of the Holy Grail,
Let alone the brook, or dale
To cool yourself in misty shade
Where miseries somehow will fade
For so a little, though, albeit
The swarming thoughts itself may mate
Into one pleasant revery
Begotten by the freshing lee..
I dropped in fancy for a moment
But limbs of mine that were so swollen
Reminded of themselves with pain..
So I proceed my way again
Dec 2019 · 42
Confession of a truant
S I N Dec 2019
I used to flank my PE lessons;
It’s bad, I know; there is no blessing,
No pray, no psalm for such a sin
And all the accusations merged in din
Of rasping metal grinding of a board
Which surface’s being mangle with a chalk;
Shall I this sound recall, and, Lord, oh my;
I’m almost ready all my principles belie
And drop upon my knees in front of a Coach,
For him to smack me as a wretched roach
And all my intestines present
And drop them as a ******* on cement
For all the varmints of a world
The death of their own kin behold;
For them to be Edification
Of all the truancy’s damnation
Dec 2019 · 40
Neon loomings
S I N Dec 2019
The lurid shining of the monitor
Is overshadowed by a neon signboard
Overboard of my apartment, piercing
Through the ever mist; emitting rays of
Purple, red and blue; as if the meteor
From outer space had fallen near me;
And standing with cup of steaming coffee
Me something gives and other times Bereaves
Of piece or angst or misery, despair
It is depending of the mood, you know
Morning Neon
S I N Dec 2019
En garde, grim reaper, Thou art
No match for me; the shade from thine
Wings will not cover my sun; I will not
Succumb to the swath of thy honed scythe;
Thy bony fingers shall not clasp my heart
And rip it from my breast, crushing ribs
And tearing skin to flakes and *****; I will
Not be an addition to thy pendants in
Thy closet; my life is mine and no one
Else’s; I did not choose to come to this
World and now thou sayest that I am no
Master upon my demise either; abyssward
From whence thou crawlest every time I
Charge thee to betake and lurk there in
Fear every time I stride by lest thy Perdition
Desirest thou to find; corrugate and shrink
And be no more thou foul fiend and dwelt
In the most far and unattainable nooks of
Visible universe and beyond and further
To be a stain no more upon the surface of
Elysium; and dare not to come back for
Swear I on the graves of all befallen that
No more shall crumble and resident the soil
To be a feast for worms and maggots;
No more shall deadmen walk; no more
Shall nooses be tighten and edges sharpen; No more shall battlecries of
Chief-tans resonant through the air
By the reverberations amplifying only
More and corrupting everything that it touches;
No more I say nor evermore nor e’en
A hundred nor a thousand years hereafter
Shalt thou straddle thy stallion and ride
With thy kin leaving nothing ye-after but
Decadence and misery and gloom; no
More shall I be the slave to thy sway; no more
Shall thou reapest the spikes of the field
Of Mankind; so hence I banish thee and
Willing to vow to defy every siege thou
Mayest plot; for to defend those of
A-kin to me is my holy duty that I
Determine to accomplish despite all
Thy charges; so ready to prepare
Thyself, Angel of Death, and come
And get what thou deservest from
The hand that wields the flaming sword,
For thy own death shall the very last  be
Dec 2019 · 78
You are already dead
S I N Dec 2019
You are already dead
You just didn’t reach that point on the road of Time
Yet
S I N Dec 2019
There is no future and no past,
Only present moment;
And forever does he last
Without letting you to pass
‘Teternity’s abdomen
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