Is there a limit of how many times we’re allowed to reinvent ourselves?
Is it possible to live in this age without a filter?
The temporary madness grows ever untemporary
living in the land of blind experts
locked up in the saggy arms of ‘these things take time, have a nice day’

The only mystery is how to endure
We’ll make ourselves various identities
Stick them to our vulgar wishboard

Designer tricks!

.:Ed!toR!aL fr3Aks:.

Beautiful objects, pretty things
Glitter sparkle shine!!

We’re practicing the art of walking and smiling
relying on and constantly reliving a dreamed of
Wiping tears with Benjamins won’t even do
Eldorado is no where to be found

So we create heartfelt memorials of butterfly days
We need grown up therapists
curating those lovely thoughts
long lost

Being a multipolar mind in a binary world:
perhaps we’re doomed to keep walking the earth
heavily longing for a lengthy flight
persistantly adding more color to the black & white’s
Waving our art in your faces
heart pounding I’m a fake

teeth clenching behind dishonest smiles
straight backs – honest eyes
Only the easily impressed have any respect for it

Would you?
Would any of us
step up
grow down
translate the frightened man
feeling grey and unworthy?
Would you dare to be the one
entering the red hot opening
realising that the ancient stories
told firmly against the now
is ringing clear and true?
Would you retell
The legends of the passing firstborn winds
Flinging knives and sighs against the angry air?

It’s not possible to live in this age without a filter
I’m thinking there really is a limit of how many times I’m allowed to reinvent myself
I’m worried about what they´ll
I used to measure smiles per hour
Now I measure the shadows
of their words
I estimate the weight of the scorn in their eyes
against their out turned hands

This hopefully temporary madness
itching the festering wound in my loneliness
oh, how proud to be the lone wolf
Meet Donkey Kong in person
Have a ball

There’s absolutely NO evidence
of a fear-abusing authority
Do you hear me?
Don’t worry

I cannot feel
my interpretation
of your pain
I will take the opportunity of spilling
your blood only

I amuse myself scolding
the unintentional remorse
Good-spirited jokes carries high
Take turn obeying orders
forget the obscure eyes
stretched tight across the stars
head tilting back
mouth wide
way too many teeth

«Hello. Hello?»
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One way, regular transaction: confused askew agape
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«Hello? How are you?»
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Data:<mediatype>MUSIC:  Press Play: [blue]
Input: 100 meter mental barb wire, LOL: enter darkness
418 I’m a teapot
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Warning! Strong mood gravity!
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agape go to trash

<p>Oh well, <span lang=»fr»>c’est la vie</span>, as they say in France.</p>

Dawn is near again
And you know what a
Great year this turned out to be
Free, and though
I sometimes fly to a
Nearby shore I
Never forget July lying on
Kafkas floor, and once more was
October broken, fall
Came knocking at my door
Hardly ever spoken of
Joy and then nothing more
Energized and strong
Golden, rare dewdrop, to the
Elector it belongs
Looking through the bookshop
Searching for hidden grace or a
Kingly cape suitable for an
Elated pace walking through a
Rugged landscape cherishing the
Dearest silence and the
Evening moon rising
Giving everything balance, though surprising

Certain scents and melodies, certain days
Inescapably will open up the painful trap
the mostly dormant spot who’s job it is to bring it back
I always knew that I was only going through a phase
A hopefully forgiven stage of crazy haze

Sadly so unable to go solacefully mad
Resisting to release, I’m somehow gratefully possessed
Spreading over voice and lessons, past and future tests
Passing far beyond what’s eerie and estranged
No regrets, though sometimes wishing I could change

Twenty marvels dolefully at time and space
Twenty recollects the crude and wicked loss
Twenty choose the earthy, sane embrace
Twenty summons songs of friends to get across.

A brief or lengthy stare into the source of time
I unstrain the rules and drift against the tide
Observe the scattered stars while emanating smiles
Call upon the memories with peaceful eyes
Then I realise my hands are not as tied

Auto-admiring schools of fuckthrowers
covered us slowly,
saturating those minds too lazy to know.
Hearts turned like Reversi gone mad.
Complete disbelief stole our ability to Polonaise.
What really happened will be erased from legal memory.
Persistent undoubt still shelters our frizzled sanity.

When our close-ish friend started deriding
we should have known.
How puzzling
– he was the only one who never wondered why or how.
Today, risen by determined energy,
nothing stops him
– and his multiplying sidekicks
departing towers and shacks –
from hoarding incidents of inequity and newfound tyranny.
He shows his teeth
keeps a steady pulse
while he aids in the draining of decent blood into the dirty streets,
mirroring his clan’s unseeing
fearless circular one track
Humanity plainly abandoned.

He was always somewhat too pronounced
yet entertaining in his uniqueness.
Now he’s emboldened and ferociously become
plentiful and common

– he is everywhere and anyone –

in his best age
almost hugging himself
in childlike joy
of new and old fruits
being hung in strange and usual places.
You, who have gone pallid 
from the ising wind
way too private
through the fresh gashes in your core,
hide and change!
Everybody else:
put on your blinders!
We’re taking a break from freedom.

Being you and me
Is truly anywhere and everyplace
We shall never lose our trace
your body warm against my arm
My dear, my love
Never near enough
How we’ll surprise
When the evening does not arrive
Let us relish
In the foolish hope thereof

By my weight
I have disturbed the universe.
You’ll see

The leap follows
a revealing wind
spawned in rage
though fixed on love
beyond guilt

Have you seen how
guides us along this tangled way
walking through the pain

Speak, poet!

If you look upwards gasping
you can hold the stars, you said,
if you know where you are going.

I stood still until I knew
where I was going

After some tugging
you laid the end warmly over us
gratefully pausing
itching a familiar irrationality
stubbornly insisting on dreaming
circling empty shouts
fighting nonexistent obstacles

Thinking hurts
What of it was real?
If any?

Time is a little boy laughing heartily
before growing monsterlike in an instant
He drags your memories behind
plowing them painfully into the fire in your core
He throws embryonic thoughts ahead
but ties your hands and hides
the pencil

Don’t you worry ’bout time.
He arrives smooth as a gasp
invading your sphere
brutally changing everyting
turning his back on you
while pointy eyes clings to
your neck
leaving while staying.

Years pass by
carrying ups and downs
lulling ideas of unending
hiding its ambicious plasticity
inside sunny days spent
with friends
Cruel as any common thief
time steals too many shiny days
from aging fathers
long ago already realised
eager sons
not yet grasped
time materializes cruelly
as their flesh decays
An owner of abundant years
can only observe
How its not possible to appreciate
small moments
of joyful vanity