Puno tamnih opisa. Jezivih priča. Tko je tu lud? Ja, ili ja koji želi biti lud? Jesu li te priče priče? Ili ne želim vjerovati da su tu i sada kao ja i ja.

M’lud
I stand before you
Contained within this dock
The night I was arrested
I can tell you
Was a shock!

Because? … I do NOT write in metaphors
Because?… I say it as it IS

This is the crime
I’m guilty of
By the …

Poetry Police

Another one that irks them so
Is because I write in rhyme
They think that they are clever
That extended is

Divine

I would like to

                        exercise

                                     my

                                           freedom

                        Wield

                                   my

                                           pen
                              
                          Just

                                  as

                                        I

                                            please


M’lud
Take pity
On this soul
Who pleads
On bended knees

For … there is much room in the pantry
For us all to get along
For … there is much room in the pantry
To sing our different songs

Songs of different cultures
Songs of unrequited love
Songs of just plain nonsense
Songs yet to be dreamed of

M’lud
I now beseech you
Appeal for your support
Pay credence to my musings
Throw this case
Straight out of court
For the greater man
Will walk alone
When his backs against the wall
The greater man
Will stand alone
In any port of call

For he has the inner knowledge
He has free rein of his mind
He understands complexities

Eyes       are       no       longer       blind

Blind to prepaid formulas
Rules they set in stone
Please protect poetic liberty

For … I will never be a clone



CASE WAS DISMISSED AND THE JUDGE SANCTIONED THAT ALL POETS FROM NOW ON WILL BE PROTECTED BY THE POETIC LIBERTY ACT 2010

wiem, raz w skarrzysku, raz w zakopanym, oprucz napeleona i warszawe, starszą polske widze w krakowie; i drewnianą; bo słowo, ludzie! bo słowo! bo to lud we mnie! nie... nad lud!*

wiesz to slowo,
wiedzma to slowo napisala,
i tyle w twej gardzi nad ukraine
i litwe! boga serce prawda i wiara!
to od żyda... od żyda passah! fu!
gnojowe gowno... szereg kwiata smerci,
w listopadzie nad kwieczien
bo bez kwiata bo z nosem...
listopada bukiet, policze tylko raz...
raz... inno!

I singe with a hertly lud whan ycham herty,
And I arme whan singinge is ne ynewe.
Carole whan my corage blissieth,
And I shal deye whan his blase deyeth.

Druerie shal be his a-brune billets.
A stable blase that shal sustene my spyrakles.
A schrewe destroyere that kesseth so dimliche.
A þeauful kempe with an as-spire swerde.

Gostes of i-þank als ouer my vingeres.
Al-only dulce conceiptes fletene in my gostes.
Sumdel real cannot be als amaddinge.
Sumdel real cannot be te-tealte!

Is the mannish þonc als mase and puissant
Sweuenen of suic a selkout conand?
Dest Moder Folde cune of hire child?
Hire misty doter who berne and bilde?

The hoom is not where the herte is.
The herte is the hoom bote motif
The herte, the hoom, the ende, and the sepulture.
A luft who is the mest derure in the Folde.

one might, invariably, drink red wine infused
with garlic to ward off evil spirits -
or as some claim...
50ml of the stuff at daily intervals
is part of a plan for slimming...
  me? i just don't mind the taste...
        like i wouldn't mind a kiss from an onion
or... slobbering into an ash-tray
sort of a girl mouth in one of those sticky floor
nightclubs circa the early 2000s we go into
for underage drinking...
being boys i do wonder what sort of *******
escapades we were supposed to unearth...
it's not like we were Pan-Am stewardesses
readying ourselves for some glitz,
some Ritz... some... thespian shadow-thieving
on the pristine screen...
garlic infused red wine...
it's not so bad... even though it's not mine
since, after all: the best ***** on the planet
is not your own - blah blah, blah...
but lucky for the 500 quid front suspension
trek marlin 5 arrived today and...
tomorrow i go catch the wind...
it feels like being six-teen again...
not that walking marathon distances is
a problem: Pots to herr belly...
from 104, kg, to circa 107, kg...
and that's still more than half...
of what mass-loss ought to "feel" like...
although... it doesn't feel like anything
when the "subjective" numbers come
across the "objective" numbers
but unlike walking...
where time and distance and the dimension
of movement are most pronounced...
a bicycle is unlike a horse
but is like a dog...
somehow...
   a bicycle is most certainly not a car
and a car is most certainly not a horse...
but a bicycle is... not...
it's... unlike a horse...
but like a dog...
that it's not a dog is pretty obvious...
but i'm conjuring up...
concepts like muzzle...
leash... WD40 oil for the chain...
and... enough air in the tires...
since we're not talking a road bicycle and
nothing has to be slender jimmy either...
it's a pristine orange...
the colour does matter, somehow...

when i liked jazz i stopped digressing
into classical...
when i stopped digressing into jazz
i allowed myself for
classical music to become complimentary
to things - complicated...
not that jazz wasn't...
but what it wasn't was that it wasn't
scripted and all that
"spontaneity" revels in exhausting itself
somehow: becomes predictable...

a jazz "us" vs. a classical "we": vs.
nothing so much clearly even remotely aligned
to that...
it was a Friday night and i was this close | |
to gauging my eyes out
after having watched a director's cut of a movie...
it beat the standard bearer...
whichever it was... Ben-Hur or Spartacus...
nearing to 4 hours of...
by the end of it: almost gauging my eyes out...
hardly Pavlov or drooling...
of making me an infantilised *******
sputnik moon-key...

a sense of: culture is dying...
what's predominately being "served"
is cancel is cancel is cancel is...
well... to overcome some variation
of nihilism ascribed to morals...
we found the modern woman in the 1950s
and 60s...
the supposed, modern man...
we'll find in the 2050s and the 2060s...
if we're lucky...
when a somewhat status quo returns...
otherwise: what's on offer is still
a dynamic of "arrogance" / agitation...

my insomniac libido...
my insomnia's insomnia...
why i wouldn't doge a cocktail of
alcohol... 250mg of naproxen...
and something resembling para-cet-a-mole
to switch-off...
i switch off:
i don't fall asleep... always...

complete with a thorough hard-on
i can exactly fathom by diluting it over
a mortal conversation with the opposite ***...
because there's this illusion
and it's stupendous...
etymological relaxation in order?
evidently history is placed within
a self-erasure composite glue...
work around this architecture...

my first... bicycle route...
the tires are pumped up
it took me close to 7 hours to walk
to st. paul's cathedral and back...

then one of those:
write everything via an anagram...
anagram: soul - losu -
                 los - which implies... fate...
losu? implies a possessive article of fate:
i.e. fate itself...
fate's whim...
              i had a dream yesterday...
i'm adamant the person i spoke
with dealt in the term... RESURRECTION...

i think i was talking to a zombie in a dream,
whoever i was talking to...
like the hues of Baltic amber...
an allotment of greens and blues...
tinges of orange mingling with yellows
and ripe reds...
nothing purpose filled like
purple followed: for the clarity of
dignifying mourning...
or an eternal clue for blue...

i was drinking medication!
i was duped!
two variations of grammar to decipher...
what it was i was drinking...

but i'll need to speak something
older than colt hing-leash...
i.e.
  garlic infused red wine
red wine infused with /
                                  by garlic...
it's a slimming elixir... apparently...

here goes! dive!

             knoblauchinfundiert rotwein...
rotwein infundiert mit /
                         durch knoblauch...
if i were drinking my own pīß...
                                         not enough: pish!
                                       pysh...
passer... by...    zilch on a leash...
it's a mix-up between py-š and py-ś...
     no... it's not even remotely related
to                                         π-σζ
ask a greek, though...
whether                           σζ can be coupled
like ae or oe...
                             given... SH... &...
                                            μαμ ση...
even the complexity of the mandarin skeletons
doesn't allow them to conjure up
more sounds behind the letters
that are already: a priori...
left... available...

tangled up in the affair of the "gods": or: not, god...
a mother seeks a supposition of a son...
we tells her...
while at the altar of words...
i began this session with red wine infused
with garlic... i'll end it with some
mulled wine...
the cat's my winged sphinx...
the cat's my winged sphinx...

for the toils beckon me remote...
i harvest a lineage that has to come to an end...
mother dear why you will not be grand...
while i won't be the fathering kind...
like it might not excused
for that thespian reality of....
gearing up to: froth forth at a pronto...
my red wine infused with garlic...

i knew i had to lend an ear to
the deutsche-zunge like
like Wend...
nieme-ludzie.... niemdy-lud...
although their black-forest gateau was
to... die for...
older than english...
this modern leash of...
this isn't the 21st century... is it...
this isn't the century of the culimation
of expectations... is, it?
if it is... where was "ground zero":
this... "Golgotha" of the supposedly
requested hour?
by what hour... are hours worth a count...
that sort of hour-ing, yes?

by the demands of what "suffices":
that i didn't speak with a god...
that i did encounter a chanced audience
with... the ******* choir... yes...
how does that sound...
having smoked marihuana
and having to "somehow" usher in...
something so antithesis of cosmopolitan...
sensible: i came across the god's choir...
but not god himself...
i cowered and started rummaging
occupying a space
before the great altar...
the great altar, so be it...
amen...              i hid under the tablature in
a white cloth...
an F a TH a PH but not a P- (prefix lady
added to the "complexity" of a response...

i met the choir, before i was allowed to
meet the deity...
last time i heard... from kabbalistic sources:
upon meeting the deity the sure
and impeding quest for death:
a clear sky... but a streak of cloud
making a quill be resembled, symbolic...
detailing a quasi-barricade...
between reality, reels, real and the races...

for an audience:
but such details are supposed to be...
confided without a public scrutiny...
then again... given my timing...
timing: not having to father children...
no ambitions of such: deeds... therein imploding...
red wine infused with garlic
for starters... mulled wine to finish it off
with an amnesia of sorts...

i tyle, reszta na coin flip
twoich ambicji;
mam, po, prostu (nie mazowieckie czy kieleckie)
               kichaniem dosyć!
syty jam i z prostatą oddany w mgle pychy;
ja serw memu mieniu i ozora
(tej trzeciej krwi krowy)
                                                          ­   poeta!
do końca wasz iglak wczorajszej wigilii
(zmień to a zmienisz czasowność):
rada memu panie... więcej narodu czy tem
racji czy tem dumy czy tem innego stanowiska
na głąbie poza polską ja racze;
ja racze! wilka gniew nad lud!
z resztą, okiem morsa fabryk na tle miganiu
to tylko nic! a mój brat kim?! obcy mocar?!
nie! nie, nie ja ludwig rus czy pruss, niet ich!
oj naród a ja jako atlas, wraz z izraelem,
a ty jako kompas, a warszawa jako kamień tonie
w wodzie hystorji wraz z napoleonem,
a więć kraków raz jeszcze wstanie wraz z mongołem;
tylko anglia może oddalać dume swego rodu
sama mniej dumna swego początku w niemczech.

All the min-u-ets you played danced in my head
Cut-ting through all my brain's synapses
Now I find myself staying up at night
Fruit flies dip-and-diving on my
Porch light

All the con-***-sions I suf-fered in the dark
Helped in the day when I re-invented art
Keep-ing up with all the verbal trends
Words I say in private are all
Open ends
Open ends
(There's nothing living, don't know
Why,
I don't know why,
My brain is numbing and it's weird)

All the mas-ter-pieces kept on hanging up
When the doctors said they "had to pull the plug"
Awake enough to hear those daylight words
My night-light eyes ate the bugs like
Little birds
Just like little birds
(No longer buzzing in my head)

All the con-vo-lud-ed pains at
Midnight!

All the bugs in-side me ate
My light!

All the dead have died in
Sick-ly fa-shion
Dropping like flies with blinks of God's eye
Never forgetting it all

All the things you said were dead had really died
All the things you said were dead had really died
All the times I thought you had, you never lied

Skulls on the skyline
and they're saying prayers
on the hill,
I'm reading the 'Rabbi of Lud',
absurd,
but good.

The jealousy hook will take them away,
green with envy and many would say
it's an illness.

The ants are in motion,
spirals and warships make
trace on the ocean
pounding away,
it's an illness they say.

And Mr's Muir and the ghost
who loved her the most any
ghost
could ever do,
though she may have been dreaming
and never really knew
if her ghost was true or not,
they say it's an illness that she's got
and such a shame.

In the moving picture show
at Medicine creek where
I often go to get a dose
of reality,
it comes to me
that it's all a fantasy and
nothing real was ever there
except for the
skulls on the skyline.

co ja ci zbuduje w tych
ruinach -bito, zwane "europa"?
         drugą japonie? nie!
czwartą rzesz!
ostatani paradigm,
i koniec! koniec!
           koniec z republiką!
starców brak! i mądrości!
dość! na ***'ah z garścią,
          czy razem w, garści;
tu, austriak, zwany ******,
kurwa mać...
        -  to nie mozart! -
będzie, po śmierci błagał
że nie był, na tyle zdolny,
by mieć lud, w garści... pod
szyfrem: cien, i żelazny gryp:
dobra dobra... orto-doks...
         gryp... uścisk;
teraz co... mam klękać?
tylko jak grek, w istambule...
jak polak... w... lwowie;
               ko-,
                           i je,   i   o.

post scriptum:

     sowiecka chmara...

sowiecki: szmer szarości...

wolna ręka
       na viß-à-viß
         obojątnego ciała:

co podobnie wita...

    "                 "
        moze... moze i moze...
    ale nie to: ...
                     inclusive of
        apparently without
a cliff-hanger.

        mordo-rył-śliną-w-***,
a potem:
         o czoło w
                          błoto:
              fú!
   (double stress on
the exclaimation mark)...

- by zbawić
                   Dawida,
  kim a nawet i kto,
     w, na zero zastygł
                  w posąg:

ruchomym na skinienie
          małpięj rękí...

   kim to wita jego niby-nikim...
'eno moi...
               a ja nadal:
w szereg!

   pytam: daleko tam do
podłogi fiołkiem latać
            poza gzyms?

dasz pióra?!
            (orthography
is... a case of actually applying
diacritical marks...
don't worry england,
russia has only butter to mind
in...

   back ь and forward я...
           apparently)...

                                  źle ci, człeku?!
to co ci w morde opętaną
do grzechu nad lud?!

       no własnie: mi to samo!
co?
              a co?            a
                                        gówno!

­serce mi gnije, i serce mi:
pęka...

         od jutra: nigdy od wczoraj!
to i czasem zapomne
                      tatuaż: precz...
a lepi świnski:
                            jeść, jeść, jeść;

co tam: grzemota?
                      niby rudy jid'y'ski,
a to tes, do kurwidołka gest...
                
               niby on: ń'cem!
        
                                хорошо?

Tic Toc Tic Toc my clock
Rhythmically flows
Lud Thud Lud Thud
My heart beats
As I lay in bed wondering
In this pandemic
Will.I stay wakeful
In Kronos Time
Or breathe with another
Chance to change
Whatever time it is
I need to value the
Time I have
Appreciate all that
Has been given me
And thank the Lord

.