they listend to me when i said look.
they knew a meaningfull lesson i was about to shoot.
close your eyes and visualize your dreams for before you know it they ll become real.
expand your mind and free your soul and all your problems shall be solved.
never forget to stay positive. all the bad things are relative.
focus on your health and stay fit and watch your life take a lift.
sing this song and feel the beat for freedom is what we seek
trust your intuitions and praise the lord and all the answers will come to your door.
seek love in everything and you ll see the love in all the living
never forget what really matters health family friends and animals.
be yourself and seek your pleasures but if you abuse it  you 'll lose this treasure.
trust me when i say be patient life isnt all.about.gold and diamonds.
In the right time you will recieve just the information that you need.
thats if ofcourse you chose the right path,if you didnt your actions wont last.
find laughter in everything. fun is the only medicine.
life is hard so be carefull dont rush things and stay in focus. for what you miss wont be retrieved.
love the children and never lie to them for the truths lies in their heart to the end.
take your emotions seriously. behind them hides life's mistery.
seek romance but in balance stay independent and love again.
dont fight people for energy, others sources give it to you for free.
send energy to those who need for giving is the greatest act indeed.

words of Harfouchism

After "once upon a time" our story becomes a mistery;
weather you are Prince Charming or the ogre is mine to discover.
The not-so-typicall "boy meets girl"
where the princess has dragons living inside her
and the ghosts that haunt her com from her own past.
A tale where Mr. Perfect has a weakness for easy women and strong liquor
and a miracle has to happen to make him see the magic.

It is common, and yet is new
It happens to me and it happens to you
It is the mistery of our era,
It is the fear and the disapear,
It is what kills us, it is like air,
It is the link between this and that,
It is related to life and ***,
It is the word that defines us,
It is a mistery to most of us,
What does it mean, what does it have,
To give...or to take...
It is redemption and it is pain,
It is our beloved Eternity.
Inside lies Immortality,
It has the answers and it doesn't lie,
It is our Heaven and Hell at the same time,
We have nothing without and we have all,
And the memories will be so sweet.
Too bad that we will forget,
Who we were, who we are and who will we be,
It guards your soul,
The doors of this are now closing
It is private, but no guests are coming.

Long ago there lived a man , the son of a son who was the king of gods who was also very talented in playing a musical instrument .
                                                               ­           This son was gifted to play an instrument so magically that he could soothe and cast spells among savage beasts.
                                                                ­ This gifted son had a wife , whom he loved dearly , unfortunately oneday she died , but he traveled into a magical world where he could possibly get his wife to come back to life , his great uncle could possibly make this happen .

He begged his uncle to allow his wife to come back to earth as herself , his uncle agreed , but on one condition 'as she follows behind you , she is not allowed to look back until you and your wife are out of this magical world .' His uncle demanded . The son then agreed .

A few minutes later as him and his wife were walking she took a quick peek , just to see if everything was okay behind her and then lost he wife forever

fraud!
she knew it, smirks, so she applaud.
-
lame. that was a fallacy
herself is the mistery

Have you seen her in the clarity of dripping scarlet riverflows?

she's still the secrecy of midnight that no one ever knows

Even hallowing hazy fog of cold could made us blinded

in this knotted ropes of white lies, dead end

Lowfully dare to follow her illusionary footsteps in waters

fraud. she's the one whose following your shady runners
she is the vulture and the prey;
the moth and the flame;
the wicked and the good;
the water and the blood;

Peace in your mind, her sojourn.

she's the only one who smiled in the midst of mourn

Mellow greetings when she entered the juvenile dreams

when the night visits, it'll be silent screams

fraud?

Eccentric.

she is an oxymoron but more of a paradox.

you learn it the hard way, you actually can drink warm shots of *****,  provided,  you have a brisk, Icelandic chaser, notably white European Bison *****, and apple juice infused with mint...

pije, pali, konia wali...

it has been agreed, a drunk man is half
the miserable sight of a woman...
no wonder a woman *******
is more appealing than a man,
who shines.., like Louis XIV,
******* in a lightbulb...
            ha ha... ******* want *******...
and there I was, thinking that
bottle of alcohol also ought to have
warnings about any *******,
other than oral with a pregnant woman...
wonder... does alcohol really harm
foetuses, or does the constant banging
of a cockrel do more harm than
awaiting sunrise good?

hence the question, i don't know.

pije, pali, konia wali...

as a drinker, in company?
i can have a social drink,
my grandmother had a nostalgic
hallucination of a taste that
provoke memory, so I bought her
a porter beer...
and we drank it together...
książęce: aromas of honey,
coffee, rührkuchen und
bitterschokolade...

grandfather simply replied:

koniec świata;

now the IVF part quest for ****** chills...
citation granny, is no citation
worthy of the urban lawyer,
frozen egg + spe4m donor factory...
the part where I'm cited as "******"...
urban mongrels contra
                  rural pedigrees.

pije, pali, konia wali...

there are but three ways to clear the head
before the excavation of a blank
page... rarely it involves addressing a delayed
slightly constipated dump...
but sometimes it does...

pije, pali, konia wali...

           then it also takes doing no.
1, no. 2 (as mentioned above)...
and no. 3...
                 i have no idea where ****
additiction comes from...
i'm more of a claccisist in this field...
moving pictures do not really
stimulate the mind to work off
a stattic picture...
    if you never did no. 3 i. e.
****** off on the toilet...
                 because you never bought
a ***** mag with your casual take
on the metaphor of smithfield market...
or you've never been,
driving to it at 1am in the morning...
coming back with half a porky corpse...

pije, pali, konia wali...

I think people are confusing objectivity
with ***** subjectivity...
like any clean cut of a scalpel...
or like eating a soft boiled egg...
you crack the shell, leaving the papist
yolk, intact...

pije, pali, konia wali...  

at leat objectifying a woman
does not subject her to the cring worthy
labyrinths of emotional men,
or whatever the hell cheating is...
   or juggling...
        ****** off at fine art,
only once did I bother to explore
the ****** extension of latex...
a kinda of bedroom niqab fetish...
but most of the time...
static images, blood down below,
paths of imagination in the head...
not to mention that ***-mad mongrel
that **** my leg...
luckily I didn't kick him,
but politely asked... are you finished,
and ready, to hunt a mare?

pije, pali, konia wali...

******* what?!
   classical *******...
whatever happened to the tabloid
page 3?
   apparently men with recoding hairlines
have more testosterone...
apparently watching a woman's breast
releases, whether dopamine
serotonin, or... as the cigarette quote
goes... Oscar Wilde?
    the most pristine five minutes,
that leaves one (mm  hmm...
a royal pronoun,  both singular,
and plural, for a pleb that's minus
the entourage of leeches...
mind you... why not the common
slang of sycophancy in syco...
that Y... not tree not serpent splits...
hollowed out... to differentiate
from the other,  crude grafitti of
******pathy, shortening)
    most disatisfied...

pije, pali, konia wali...

perhaps j. c. is the king of kings,
but i sit on the, throne of thrones...
no. 1, 2 and 3...
    no scented candles,
no... god... cursed the theistic joke...
a woman has to *** squatting...
a man just stands...
than again: bigger bladders?
*******, easing analysis muscles,
jerking off to static nudes...
how is it on the other side?
moods, scented candles, lying back...
literature that ought to be
read with one hand?
        d'uh and the *****...
sure... g. i. Joe of a boy aged 8
when Barbie burned in th stash...
out comes Ken 2.0...

pije, pali, konia wali...

easier for a man to stomach a hand
as if it were done ****...
than explore beyond the floral pouch...
than... getting a manicure...
and... not using the Vizzz...
the Vizier... hardly a comparison to
encapsulating... snoring...

i always ask the intrigued relic of
dating... so... you want to hold
my hand, or is male maturation
so grotesque that it has no...
voyeuristic appeal?
   well... thank **** for that!
with my little finger I served
poached, a former hydra behemoth...

the knowledge of, good and evil...
                                                X
which isn't exactly a mistery of +...
   the conjunction translates as X,
cross-eyed... not +...

pije, pali, konia wali...

                      it's easier calling it
the no. 3, considering how...
sitting on the throne, apparently
masages the prostate...
hence the stigma it would seem...
no scented candles...
no grand whizz of faking headache
and snoring of excavating dodos...

pije, pali, konia wali...
    
ah... back into the syco contra
****** and the hollowed out
Y question...
                         σý-co...

         'sigh-co...

hence not so much the hollowed-out
Y... but rather, akin to gnome gnostics...
the particular instance of
surd letters,
not being clothed in surd attire...
     elsewhere diagnostic...
otherwise in the already given example:
   'nome...         'nostics...

yes, i know, the borderline 'sigh-co...
psst... as happens, when letters
ignoring greco-semite
        stubbornness,
remain syllable amputees looking
for torsos of words....
magnetised limbs mechanic...
letters primitive, bound to syllables...
not the greco-semitic
construct of names...
       shortcuts with the NATO
alphabet is the curse of 15...
   a ******* worth of a telephone
conversation will not craft
an originality of either Aleph,
Omicron, Ayin, or Omega...

       may i remin you the greco-semitic
stubborn ram... ploughing
constants in science?
aha! ****** music thought...
no one really heard of
rotting christ or
         mícháel greilsammer...
last of the Roman sons...
sang arias of castratos!

pije, pali, konia wali...

     finally! ad the title implies...
what's the diffrence between
a man buying shoes,
and a woman buying shoes?
probably the packaging,
or more to the point...
a man walks into a shoe shop
wearing old shoes...
he buys a new pair,
buys them, puts them on,
packs his old pair into
the newly bought pair's shoebox...
and walks out with
his new: economic sketch
and the concept of recycling...
primarily because i've never seen
a woman buy a pair of shoes,
and walk out of a shop
wearing them...
   not once....
      and thank **** it rained hail
and razor rain today,
after post-noon greenhouse
suffocating toffee sun...
and the sky was painted a continental
grey & plum as the earth gave
its first, authentic breath of spring...
not once, have i seen a woman
buy shoes... and walk out
in them, putting the ones she
wore walking into the shop,
among the moosehead trophies,
skinned furrs,
and her, other,
      hunting expedition catches...
into the insomnia and iron
forest, of foraging for sales.

thank **** i had an existential
****** looking at me,
as I put the newly purchased shoes
onto my feet, and the old shoes
into a carrier bag...
    in those rare instances,
as true as: mould the iron while
it's lukewarm...
          come to think of it...
this is french existentialism
in the open... unable to encompass
a voyeurism with a guilt
of a peepingtom or Cambridge Analitica...
pure existential voyeurism...
guised Edenic...
     out in the open...
       bound to the habits of
man shopping, for shoes...
                 rather than a woman...

hell, hades and the high-water mark
of a tide...
      
     (he) drinks, (he) smokes,
   (he) smacks the monkey...

     if you didn't know, already.

his words have the beauty of sirens
his eyes the depth of a flame
the dawn is unsustainable sometimes
his fingers are looking for the edge of darkness
fragile as a new born thought
his dreams are characters in a play with the invisible
hidden in the stones of the sky, in unwritten books
and unfollowed dialogues is the voice of his time
he struggles with the unseen rule of the world
like a priest without a church
the darkness inside kept in mutable particles

he will unlock one day, all of a sudden, the mistery
of light inside the deepest darkness cause
his feet carry the craft of wisdom

Falling for someone you don't entirely know,
You are tirelessly entering an endeavor you are to lose,
You give your entire being to an entirely different entity,
Who entices you with flashes of brilliance and mistery.
You effortlessly exert effort for a hopeless cause.
You are endlessly waiting for an eternity that will not come,
You picked a battle you have lost long before you could have won.
To fall in love with someone you barely know, don't do it, just please, don't.

Reality knows no words that you can bargain with it
time is not a friend of pain that you can beg to wait
pause your run and you will find no ease even if you'd fall to bleed
they will only have you bills to complete

Look at me and my eyes will show you languish
Talk to me and I will define you anguish
the moments I failed to make speaks no english
Yet their story echoes my lamentation

Yesterday is history and tommorow will be another story
We live in days full of misery
Why would you hope so desperately
As if you can unveiled the mistery

pack up your pain and bring it to me!
We will write them in our destiny and float it to the sea
For they won't give a **** even they could see
Come before winter and be my rhyme my CATHY

Dark hair, light eyes.
a dark personality.
she'll disguise who she is and who she was,
with who she seems to be.
this dark girl is a mistery.
theres pain behind her glossy eyes and truth behind her daily lie's.
i see right through the mask she wears and right into the deep dispair.
i want to hear you sing to me, a happy song of love and glee.
i want to see you smile bright, give light to this darkest night.
ive been where you are, i know the pain but to get to  daylight you must go through  rain.
let me be your escape, let me make it all right, let me go into your dark world and make it bright.
you gave me your heart and i'll treat it with care, scared i'll break it?
i wouldn't dare.
theres love behind her light blue eyes and truth when in my arms she lie's.

It was everything this girl ever wanted but nothing what I needed

I always was something that nobody could have, a mistery
my smile was like the summer and my hart was the winter
and there were only a few people that could read my dark eyes

she never became one of those humans, she didn't understand
the way I didn't cry when I was sad or the way I did when I was happy

I was different from the other people not only because of my beauty
I seemed honest, I told everyone I was honest, nobody saw me lying
it were the little things in life that made me special, everything special

nobody could ever have me and that's what made them want me
and maybe it was selfish to think this way and maybe I am, selfish
the beauty of life, the adventures everything was calling my name

the way he looked at me that night and the way I smiled back at him
the full moon was shining bright with all the pretty stars next to her
it was the perfect night to make love, the alcohol, craving for each other

that moment you should have known that it was so so wrong
but you never blamed yourself because you are young and free
promises never meant a thing for you and maybe they never will
people let each other down all the time and true love doesn't excist

we are broken boys and girls looking for other broken boys and girls
life never was fair to us, our parents never were fair to us, nobody was

and maybe I should feel sorry for being the way I am today

So passive so suddle
So hard to believe
One chance and that's all
It takes to make the best
So.long of a road
So hard of a challenge  
So hard to see
Intimidating to be
Really trying to go ahead
Ahead of a non ending world
A challenge that can't be overcomed
Ahead to a strange mistery
A simple blow in the air
Calling out my name telling me to breathe
Telling me to not stop
Pushing me of calling me out
And guiding me
Into this life
That I am meant to live
But how?
Live?
That's so easy yet hard,
Something I yet don't seem to understand,
Life out there is like a holocaust
Words ****
Looks discriminate
Phrases simply push you away

How to live this life
When this life is against you!!!

Spent the night
Tasted starlight
Found satelite
But i didn't know what i got
Everything's not going like what it's like
Unsure that i'm not given up
Being the one that always forgot
Just like an astronaut
Crawling the night to find a new start

Saying "Hello" to the new gravity
Trying to solve a mistery
That maybe causing tragedy
No one gonna say sorry
Even you're rising fury

Hey, you there!
Yeah you, Mr. Hate
I was born from the way i've been treated
Snapped my finger and 'boom' i was fade
I thought i need some little escape
I try to find the final gate
And get out of this outerspace

My agent for apeiron appeared standing
In classical grey coat stopping me by one
Palm reaching toward ninth heaven nine

Such is the gaze poetics, astonished thing
From the shinny reawoken dynastic ring
From my mind I call you on n' on dreamy
My uncatchable personal erudites library

Many thorough smiles unchaining liberty
Of bridges forms n' our humming colours

Above erased reliefs, wave waters mistery

this world i walk alone i have no fear but people in society see the chance to rip into the skin of a person s mind and fills it with lies you cant get away from.

this world is filled with the fire in the eyes of a lire that knows the tricks and card games played write but the eyes filled with fire are the lies they have choses to hide there own identity. behind.  
but the eyes of a lire have no inisents but the grave they started to dig.

i hide my eyes behind a deep blue sea full of mistery and vanished questions my blue eyes are the image of you reflectin back on me .

my eyes have no lies only the cold steair down your spin.

my blue eyes are the cold feids of snow that has no face to be herd..

my russian blue eyes tell a storie of how i have servied. but my russian blue eyeshave never ran with a identity that become a lie on it own.

i might be crazy but in this life i have goals to set me free

It starts with curiosity.
Then a deep breath.
This is time to travel.
Time to discover
Time to fly...
Lose yourself within the beauty.

Have you ever thought what an incredible tool that is?
Being a guest
Inside someone's mind
To know their thinking
Their thoughts, worries, reactions
Desires, fears, ambitions...

You can transform each time you pick a new title.
Lose yourself with it .

cheese, cheers, chips
tuna pizza, deep base
long enough in the oven
remember onion on top
in the end
bring along ta tabas scope
I mean the little bottle
chilly no, spicy stuff from the states
give me the original not only
the label and bottle
don't try to fool me you know
I had it at home everyday
I lied, even worse I said
I used to work for that little company

chic, shake, mask, shock
goat head, live, pointing at you
guest of honor
holy water in the day
alcohol at night
a hundred times a day same prayer
bow and head up again and again
spiritual outside, physical inside

a hotel room
sitting on the fifth star
lift quietly down
to the lobby bar
shaking handle of
the same beer jar
cigarettes sharing with
other guys no matter who they are
wine at dinner, red and dry
anything below 13.5 degree
better switch to cha

tea, tears
mixed with funny jokes
marlboro
words prepared for tomb stone
manufactured in Swiss not
the Philippines
same same but different

winter time again
in Hannover it was
dome, domo, taxi
same people same suit
same place same ****
they call it busy ness
oh my God

(Additional piece)

Who Else Isn't Fooling Around

summer day, the hottest
bulk trials caused flights delay
sweating like hell but
won the trust with
the last trick as always
forget about chemistry
water, acid and salts
nothing matters for those
cheap, once off products
living in details are devils
hang themselves the last day
to pay all debts

acid dyes
accident dies
exclusive group of those type
stained absolutely
blocked the lights as blockers
light up fire to smoke
lighter went back to the pocket
never opened but explore this time
burnt, burnt out
all of the sins leaking
on the floor
johnny walked away silently

distance, disconnection
disappearing appearance
sky, skype, type, wipe
weep, beep, bitter, laden
a missed call, meant safe

fear, fight, fare, farewell
dear, dare, tare, tolerance
word, world, weird, wide web
man, memo, memory
mop, mob, map
fine, fancy, fantasy, finali
me, miss, miserable, mistery, mix
you, united, uniform
we, wall, warn, wallet
wow, worry, worrier

pain, penny, perfume, perform
perhaps, panda, pancake
panadol, panasonic, peninsula
fan fence fossil
fool full fuel funeral

2016.1.3

Oh Poseidon
I am lost such deception
You re always keen on
Letting me know
My dreams torn in
advance
Oh Poseidon
Kiss me once
and don t say it s
You
Mistery of our earth
You always return
to cary me to your palace
I dream, I seek, how you amaze!
In your human space
This bride, didn t mary
in your verse life I carry
I dream, holding tight
the moon at night
slight.
Letting others
distance
treat me right.

im tired of being traped like a animal in a cadge. let me out to take to the streets.
let me roam around exploring what i need to see. nothing cant hold back when you hold my anger back. you push back me ill attack you slashing you apart. set me free to go insaine let me o free in this world of mistery. let me free so my viloence  wont be come like my long claws scaching down the chalk board. set me free to learn how every lifes misterys. set me free to enjoy the littel things .let me free cause im not a animal that is tame. im a animal witth dangerous claws that can slash you apart. set me free to take off  running. set mee free so i dont **** you when you lock me away

she is full of mistery
her life is a misery
she's trying to be okay
but her demons wants to play

a.v.

Is it a dream
No..
You dissappears into the thin air
Or into the deep ocean
Yours alright is a free
Yours goodnight keeps me awake
Where are you
The sky is so high
The ocean is so furious
The clue is not obvious
The knowledge is there
The technology is everywhere
The tears have dried
But the hope is high
Where are you
The search continues
The prayers is endless
Mistery is the will
If silence is your choice
Let it be a history
And you will always be remembered

All my friend's lost the faith as rivers of untapped
Ichor potential drain from what could be

Still in a bad way, but learning to cope with
The constant pressure that's building behind my eyes

We lived for a pipe dream
But it seems fate had us occupied
Everything that life did entail
And predestination

With every other missed intro
And work that falls by my wayside
Finite we fight for empty tales
No longer a fail safe

Bloviating on and on about how it used to be
Ignoring the misery that plagues us to the day
With iron in hand, a blood spattered mistery
I eye up the crime scene of all of your dashed dreams

But tomorrow

We'll still wake up

And somewhere on the uptake, I'm sure you'll find the way

Into the path

I chose to take

You'll see I never gave up on what you threw away

There's no such thing as second takes, the reel got thrown away
Stop searching in the shadow, for a risk you'll never take
As time winds up around you, and brings you from your state
Why fight the intuition

I am that little destroy toy.
Anya Anyway.
I am a little annoy boy.
Stuck in heavy discomfort all day.

When you scroll down, do you like anything?
When you get down, you do miss something?
Anyway.
Fighting, rushing.
Tightening feeling.

Do you want to be seen?
To be happy?
Cause you're learning so much more in the dark night scene!
Now you're ******!

Destroy toy.
Filthy.
Rotten.
Skum.
Absolutely ******.

I am a little destroy toy.
Anya anyway.
You are a little annoy boy.
Underneath you are so miserable everyday.

When you come up with this nonsense to cover your misery.
I'd like to cover it with mistery.
But I'm angry too often.
And you're kind.
So never mind.
Anyway...

Let's learn in the dark night scene.
And come completely clean, what is it that you really mean?

I am that little destroy toy.
Anya Anyway.
I am a little annoy boy.
Stuck in heavy discomfort all day.

society is a huge scary place. but we have the choices to follow or creat your own path?i know that stress sufficates our own minds. the whole world is made of mistery and questions. have you just felt like you can make that step to finally come out from the shadows. your never going to be alone? cause if you take that step you can tell me your able to make the right disision. society is a big scarey place to be

BUT WHEN YOU BREAK THE FEAR YOU CAN UNLEASH YOUR INNER DEMONS!!!  YOU CAN TAKE YO*UR OWN PATH !

YOU CAN BE FREE TO FIGHT EXPRESS YOUR MIND?

have ever just wanted to become the new society with out all (THIS ******* THAT SUFFICATS US)

WHAT DO U WANT TO CHANG::::::::::::::::::::))))))))))))))

today is a straightforward day
when the light lends me some essence
the foliage is getting more ardent
the daymon of thought less voracious
the sky is self-contained
this path or that path insists not to leave any trace
inside, today is just another day stolen from the void of mistery
I am wearing all my loves as one in my wrinkles
pneuma stories if you look straight into the rain of photons
and yes, my chest is still the nest of a hurricane

Dear diary,
I'm sorry because I can't draw and you can't be as cool as my imaginary journal.
I'm sorry because I don't write regularly, and I use that excuse, that I can't write just in the right mood when I feel the time passing in the mistery of the eternal.
I'm sorry because even if I have such a bad memory, I like to forget.
I'm sorry but I let you know that I burned my previous diary even if it wasn't a concrete diary just a black book with poems, a touchable memory palette.
I'm sorry because I live in my own world and in the "real" one nothing really happens, nothing I can write about.
I'm sorry...
I'm still trying to find out who I am, trying to break out my inhibitions, to play out my demons..
JUST to WRITE THEM OUT
Sign, Tiniky

Your calmness thrills,
Your quitness provokes,
Like you are breaking the hills,
And inspiring the whole folks.
Strong and honest is your emotion,
Cause you are deep as ocean.

Your beautiful soul has no end,
All around the world it's sent.
The world wants your presence,
To be here now in present.
Strong and honest is your emotion,
Cause you are deep as ocean.

Oh mountains, look at this mistery,
Woods, come closer and listen.
There is a lovely human being,
Who wants love to be given.
Giant restless is your leap,
Cause you are the ocean deep.

People are your sweet little chest,
Where you wanna explore their best;
Where you look deep inside to the end,
You're happily surprised what's in there.
A soul is what you really want to see,
Full of colored precious to reveal.