ENGLISH POEMS, RANTS ETC.
A MULTIPOLAR MIND IN A BINARY WORLD (2013)
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?
This 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 wishboards
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
retrofuture
Wiping tears with Benjamins won’t do and
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
persistently adding more colour to the black & white
Waving our art in your faces
heart pounding: I’m a fake
Teeth clenched behind dishonest smiles
straight backs, honest-ish eyes
Only the easily impressed will 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
legends of 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 constantly worried about what they´ll say
behind my back
I used to measure smiles per hour
Now I measure the shadows of their unsaid words
Estimate the weight of the scorn in their eyes against their eagerly outstretched hands
This hopefully temporary madness
itching exactly at that festering wound in my loneliness
oh, how proud to be the lone wolf
AUTHORITY (2015)
Don’t worry about eyes galore
stretched across the streets
heads tilting back
way too many teeth
I cannot feel my interpretation
of your pain
I amuse myself
scolding
your unintentional remorse
I will forget
and take the opportunity of spilling
your blood only
</FRIEND>
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<p>Oh well, <span lang=»fr»>c’est la vie</span>, as they say in France.</p>
HIDDEN
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
TWENTY (2013)
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
NOBODY
The wheels of justice has changed its course
She dreams it more beautiful than it was
Conjures it again into existence
The sound of her own voice
Tastes of salt and silver
She walks hand in hand
With the demons In vain and Too late
Now she is nobody
And nobody deserves a meaningless life
A BREAK FROM FREEDOM
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.
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 aids in the draining of decent blood into the dirty streets,
mirroring his clan’s unseeing, fearless, circular one track minds.
Humanity plainly abandoned
He was always somewhat too pronounced
yet a bit entertaining in his uniqueness.
Now he’s emboldened
ferociously become plentiful and common
– he is everywhere and anyone –
new and old fruits
being hung in strange places.
You, who have gone pallid
from the way too private ising wind
cutting through fresh gashes in your shivering core:
HIDE AND CHANGE!
Everybody else:
put on your blinders!
We need a break from your freedom
BEING YOU AND ME
Being you and me
Is truly anywhere and everyplace
We shall never lose our trace
You
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
LAUGH
By my laugh
I have disturbed the universe.
You’ll see
I leap, following a revealing thought spawned in rage
– though fixed on love and that mellow smile
residing somewhere beyond guilt
Have you noticed how necessity and desire
guides us along this tangled way
hands held through wild pain
appearing again when shinier days
roll by
HOLD THE STARS
If you look upwards gasping
you can hold the stars, you said,
do you know where you are going?
I stood still until I knew
where I was going
After some tugging
you dragged the end warmly over us
gratefully pausing
indefinately
itching just at that familiar irrationality
stubbornly insisting that I’m dreaming
empty shouts
fighting nonexistent obstacles
Thinking hurts
What of it was real?
If any?
THE CRUELTY OF TIME
Years marches by
carrying ups and downs
lulling ideas of something unending
hiding its plasticity
inside sunny days spent with friends
Cruel as any common thief
he steals too many shiny days
from aging fathers
long ago already realised
and eager sons
not yet grasped
Time is a little boy laughing heartily
Turn you back on him
he grows in an instant monsterlike
drags your memories behind him
plowing them painfully into the fire in your core
throws embryonic thoughts ahead
ties your hands
hides the pencil
As flesh decays
he materializes cruelly
Paradises vanishes
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
An owner of abundant years can only observe
How it’s possible to appreciate
small pockets of mindless joy
OMENS OF A NEWBORN MILLENNIUM
Death is awake in our earliest memories
Man of today is no one
everyone
Faces are surrogates for souls;
annihilated by the names we worship
All will be annihilated
by the days we live
Follow only a few dreams
It is impossible to break through
the real reality
World myths remain
Our fantasies of truth are true enough
though transfigured by eternity:
– cycles of ages resurrect the dead
time and time
and time
again
Remember the questions found
halfway between mythical moments
and pragmatic anaesthetic replies
We all bury our secrets under stones
Once we lived fiercely
But the drug of entertainment wears off
These days we transcend through balanced budgets
The search for unconditional love
becomes a walk to find oneself
Instead we find a near-life-experience;
bewildered fantasies of change
We complain about chafing from the blinders we put on
against the knowledge that
that death always lurks around dawn
A simple darkness promises me sunlit dreams
But transforms my bones to fiery ashes and wind
Nothing
it’s an empty day as long as
nothing is repeated
Wash your heart clean from beauty
– it was all just for show
The autumn moon carries us to our windows
writing wonderful goodbye letters
When drenched in time
we travel to great moments
which we later
forget
Nothing can be known
Reality has got a bad heart
but a direct contact with the sun
The strong self produces
aggressive visions of loving
We drink the tonic of war
but dally with traditions of love
Death will eventually be yours
Death will really never be yours
Our friends will have to wait until we become brave
daringly humane
almost mirroring God himself
You know God by knowing yourself
That’s why you never meet God
Only self
The final violence will change:
become benign and beautiful
Depression fades into passion
We are failing to perceive vast intervals of always
It is simply what we call life
Find the movement that accompanies numbness
Stay there
Listen
INNER PEACE
Human life
is it simply painful misalignments of enhanced self-esteem in the presence of misantrophic altruism?
Inner peace
– dedicating life to follow the comfortable path.
Who wants inner peace anyway?
Possibilities only rush the song of wary lovers.
I’m misreading the poetry map
I know that I am only imagined
Kinda like genuine doublè gold
The trends escape my walls.
Honestly (oh scary), I desire sight;
a vision of bold perceptiveness bends wistfully against my eyes
I want to savor the light itself.
My lips form the word forever,
my heart’s already looking in other directions.
Mercy speaks with a double heart.
Ornamentally wrinkled forehead
looms over compelling eyes.
My hands, mute and crooked,
span the void between wish and deed
makes a path from my senses to the darkening paper.
Disfigured thoughts persists.
Impatient footsteps behind distant eyes.
I don’t understand impatience and sloppy work at the cost of prudence
(Who am I kidding, it’s a description of me)
But the world has turned dark and unrecognizable.
The combative have invented a hell for the rest of us
Me?
I rebel against nothing except time.
Transfigured by eternety, cycles of ages
won’t resurrect the dead
– not for the first time.
We live fierecly in endless different yearnings
But just almost