some waves just pass through me
I let them touch other surfaces
they got carried away by the breeze
or the lament of seaguls
my architecture or the scripture
no wonder the receptivity
but only if you feel the field
to understand the predator
merge with one
to understand a bird
feel the weightless air
to understand a flower
dream its sensitivity
to understand the ******* of dawn
let yourself be devoured
there is empty space
in the great chain of being
oh, how mimetic everything is
lust doesn't last, it isn't so obvious
nor the craving for shining surfaces
as an empty screaming in raw beats
it tastes like sand in the eyes to me

I can see more and more
the spinning of burned eyes
I won't let myself be
devoured by a false premise
no, no need no worries
beauty is the mother of
the night when
every wall shouts
our name
leave the door open
leave the seduction
to me

let your skin
surrender
to the labyrinth
untranslatable
let me be in love
with the sunstone
you'll find the right
melody
to leave beauty
unharmed

Isolated on this Island
Surrounded by the high tides of madness
I'm happy here
In the mornings I sing to myself and
At night I dance under a pale moon
My only discomfort are the seaguls who ****
on my one man parade
Many hours I spend on shore
Fishing for a bottle
A pipe
A good women
But the waves are harsh and relentless
They deny me entry
My salvation is lost out at sea
**** the ship and it's livley cargo
Where's my vice ?

Seaguls are flying
Javed and Nora are no more
To see the surging tides
The two broken boats are now
Buried deep in the dry sand.
**
Copy rights reserved

I just can never fathom
Why people on the daily jump into the corporate chasm
Chasing monetary lies
But scared of living random
They want purpose they want structure
But that **** is lacking luster

Dull and boring plastic people
Countless hoards of roaming sheeple
I want freedom like an eagle
I won't just chase these crumbs like seaguls

i'm looking for a neighbour...
you mean that when your neighbour kills
a pet cat, i don't have the right
to hack off a piece of a grave,
  with shovel and moonlight dig
a hole in the ground and bury
the cute furry crit?
                 i'll try smiling next time
i buy oranges from you...
          and because today is a special
day: for no apparent reason -
i decided to loiter in bed listening
to the only arithmetic i've learned
   to appreciate -
  first came the crow -
  then came the magpie -
          the sparrows too -
                   i've seen a kestrel perched
on my garden fance, once, upon a time,
and i've seen robin perched...
                 black-bird with the jittering
brush stroke of a tail...
                seaguls? yep...
                  30 miles inland....
the grave?
       i just hacked a piece off...
             i liked that cat: Oscar Darshan...
i remember walking through
the suburban labyrinth of streets
   with a croquet holder with
    a gravestone, wrapped in
  a black bin bag...
                      did i ever mind you to
concern yourself:
  wet tarmac in then night is
a most appealing sight...
             frozen tarmac is just
akin to a paparazzi epilepsy...
     all glitter: no diamond...
             i see the horror when i don't
hear the music...
                   play me the
Handel messiah opening
   and i could prim a cow for a stake's
worth...
                mind you:
seems a waste not ingesting
the internal organs as coulinary
specialities...
    poultry hearts,
             yum... in the
"gulag" broth?!
          do i really have to remind you
of your mother's name?!
                - and my neighbour said
that my pet peeve known as Oscar
died of a kidney failure...
    see... problem is...
i had a psychotic foresight that stated:
you have to go back home
and tend to your cat...
             i was a Columbus by then...
laughed at...
              but the problem is:
the cat actually died...
           i live among a people
i'd rather **** than drink tea with...
    and when i did my poppy impression?
i sliced off a cross, all the 50kg worth of
it and walked it to the podium,
laid it flat and said: my duly respects -
lays the **** thing before you,
uttering the words:
that i don't want a shadow to tarnish it...
   with either geometry or orbit!
i like the concept of a cemetary:
what was once flesh, became ash,
and with the addition of water:
                                  became cement.
you really can see U.V. in this world:
just stare at a sun for too long...
you'll see it vibrating,
mingling the colours (and lack of)
between a sheen, a purple,
      a mirror, a pulverising blotch -
and all the other **** that would require
a pay-for-what-you-write deal.

In the twist of the seashell,
can you hear it?

The roaring ocean,
the seaguls,
the laughing and splashing?

Well, can you?