Procession to a heartworm

 

 

tell me of unknown lovers

and i'll show you jealous

tell me of sorrows

and i'll feast

 

 

make me lie (to me)

make you cry (for me)

make me lay down and die

 

 

 

when only this bittersweet solution

keeps me breathing

in a real state of mind

why should i ever be sober?

 

 

you lay your hand

so i'll reach out your heart

and keep you from falling

 

 

my heart drags me down

to the otherside (of the cliff)

to a bottomless miserable end

where i still breathe

(in) an imitation of reality

 

 

I tasted tha apple long before you knew

He tries to resemble me

He fell once

I still do...

 

 

Why would you even spit a worn heart?

 

 

Wither Weaver

 

 

be gone, away, and grief

for we became abeyance

what shaped the waters of today

leaves a vapor trail

darkening, foul disobeyance

 

 

when only in dreams

when sleeping awake

when past is far from what it seems

when remembering lies fake

 

 

i went away

weavers created me

why would they weave?

the dance of the hopeless

with sword and axe

we shall cut our wings

and be

 

 

you write, I listen

you speak, I dream

only to inherit the nothing

when nothing means all

the so called...

the poverty of knowledge

the end complete

 

Mn 54,9380

 

like the greatness of finding a new mathematical formula

charmed and flattered by itself

only to find out there was nothing new, nothing special

and years passing by, reflecting the same failure

again and again

 

made them open their hearts

made them see it coming out of a fudge

now they stand unspoken

 

and now that it had all

it wishes that all be lost

being satisfied with the dream and the thought only

it slips from them, it's compass needs a compass

leaving it to dance silent and deserted

 

was it worth a wait, respect and recognition?

not remembering the source,  despises itself

so why shouldn't we?

serving for years now, you must have known

yet you see another truth it cannot understand

 

it must have been self impunity...

now it treasures what you see in the mirror

it hungers to bind it

 

now it wakes once again

one hand in heart

one hand in the forehead

 

 

 

Fever Dream 

 

 

Sometimes I feel them deep

when I'm fast asleep

I know that I am dreaming

but their touch is soft and sweet

I know that I am dreaming

I know that I am dreaming

 

 

An open door in front of me

an eye witness (am I not?)

a scene to remember and forget

playing over and over

an empty cinema imitating the norm

 

and behold...

the son of man

the fallen one

the anarchist

the idealist

the pilgrim

and the fool

all in one

and all and none

a world behind a world

they whisper...

 

 

hold the door son

you're all going down

 

 

Vernacular of Opposition

 

 

the most unclean

never managed to do so

unspoken, inarticulate

moaning, gnawing ravenously

through inconceivable and dim halls

a vaporous and prosaic whine

 

 

a tenebrous state of entropia

an inconceivable conscience

linearly rationalised

outlandish, inaccessible, nonchalant

the depths of my inner silence

my foul and rotten ego

 

I Am (I exist)

I Will (I decide)

I Create (I destroy)

 

 

Calculus: A priori

 

Remind me, next time

in some other or after life

to better forget than forgive

a condition set before

 

let me clean up this stained table

paint it white again

knowing only time and space

nothing more

nothing less

 

I got myself a whole new weird story

taking part in a one-sided glory

condemn all I perish

still I"m the one who's sick

 

eyes red and tired

confusion all the way

this won't stop

no bandage for these wounds

 

remind me, next time

not to wake...

 

Neurotoxine

 

 

being the voice, won't matter any more

as all voices gone low

yours couldn't make a difference;

I am though disappointed enough

 

few things I long during the day

even fewer those that fill me

I only wait, till I become

the key that unlocks

the lunatics' doors

 

Do I poison?

I surely triumph among ignorance

among the death of neurons

think of me, for I thought for you

only the outcome is different

 

It may hurt

it may paralyze

it could just kill you

a shiver down the spine

and all is forgotten

 

only the terrible realisation

of vanity and life itself

seems like a haven

exposed and relieved

from all life's misery

 

 

Auction

 

 

Seek for what looks alive this night

though i doubt you'll find anything at all

Drowned in spirits and temporary joy

sentenced to be a lie's toy

i begged for the full penalty of

sanity's law

 

continue your evening's walk

hour after hour

minute after minute

the auctioneer keeps going

feel free to join

 

all seem stagnant

an obsessive cough

overruns me

as you creep inside my desert

maybe to remind me

what to get over

 

bid the highest

bid for me please

myself remains selfless

and I've quited long ago.

 

Calculus: A posteriori

 

 

wake up, we gotta go

'tis early, but we must hurry

dawn is cracking, and we must leave

take the necessary

dress well

 

we'll get lost eventually

after all it's all about loss

since you're awake, 

there's more and more to be lost

so tighten up

 

try not to remember faces

don't feed them anticipation

 we won't be here for long

we're in a hurry

and the summer is coming to an end

 

there is a time

when we will call for mother

as we did long ago

only the answer is different

after all

there's always one to pass away

so that the others, may forget and regret

 

that is what I learned

 

Five knots to mandrake tree

 

people never suited me

they always looked pale 

on this sunny day

under the oak tree

I tie and tie 

five more knots...

bittersweet was never for me

just a tasteless taste in mouth

of anger and grief

behind a well-built smile

on this sunny day

I tied

five more knots

fove more knots to a mandrake tree