"gelb" poems
*whatever we speak, it's hardly going to
be spoken of.*
which means two kettles...
mind you: target practise
or as i mind
the 2.4
of said: superman
in Iowa...
do i care to mind?
well, **** me!
they verse in acronym
i.n.d.i.a. & c.h.i.n.a.
akin to a billion...
i'm tongue tied and heaving,
das bōt...
this doesn't help the aesthetic...
with prolonging dies
the excess o...
kaiser schweizer min took!
whatever that means,
they say funny accents in ****
to **** a thought of a zeppelin...
yhwh: or the hollowing-out,
awaiting the god to lift us out...
Pythagorean umlaut
into a macron joinery...
depending on your aesthetic...
Kreisler schisser...
twins anti avid,
interchange s and z...
Charlotte
and sharpening, shearing and cheering,
and so many excuses...
the chard and the sh and the charcoal
and the shattering of, of the chatter:
cheap and sharp
or the acute variations of śarp & ćeap...
or what the first H represents:
an upper punctuation marking,
above the letter,
Y or gamma γ vs. Υ (upsilon)
in latter phrasing comma...
or what's pinpointed with Y
and what's later replicated in trigonometric W
of sine and cosine, as is Y the tan divergence...
excesses bound to later and latter...
how to differentiate? the lay'ter
from the latté of not mopping up the surd
h and the vocalised h that's asphyxiating
within catching breath asthmatic?
people forgot punctuation
in the same way they forgot diacritical markings
but at least they got a pretty picture
and dyslexia, and iconoclasm, and
modern illiteracy;
as said modern conspiracy theory:
far **** away from 1990s cartoon network...
everything you just said: doesn't
prop a need for me to buy things;
which is why, i guess, you need
a drugs trade that's the alternative
of consumerism.
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
I don't know
Whether sky plays earth!
Water running in circles
As if it's inhaled
Or ****** by earthy lips
And so clouds also
move along as ribs
In a breathing chest
You pass your legs into water
"how it is cold and fresh!"
and Sun, is hotter than blood
Feeding the sandy flesh
Your eyes're green at night
sunny in the afternoon
And honey in the early morning
My own are really dark!
I cannot clearly see
where poems are born
They say that neurons
Sink in a salty water
-sodium and chloride-
Just like the sea
I look at those blackish
Brainy rocky islands
And think :
Only sweet water
Could dig its own way
Through this earth's wound
gathering lonely colors :
"Schwarz, Grün , und Gelb"
On either banks of the Nile
passing by the cataract.
1st August 2017,
Aswan - Luxor
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 5:09 PM UTC