anchor

for the moment the only thing that matters is to put middle of nowhere
with some scenic route blue skies and simmering ocean
in your still breathing life you forgot to carry with caution and love
dream
unless you really don’t give a fuck if your cosmic river suddenly dries up
in a ghetto
that some ass-hole politician called yesterday a paradise
screaming the word through the idiot box inside the four walls
you happen to inhabit for some bank on top of three dimensional food chain
and even thought you try so hard not to watch it or be watched
this primitive channelling works both ways
so why don’t you close your eyes
and turn that thing off in yourself
now
this is a starting point of another shot at freedom

TURNING AGE

colours are all wrong
in this picture perfect song of mine
they bleed into many times
that take a lot of pain
to keep alive
my grey
late
life
expending in the air
as momentary past
why stop it
from hanging

A MAN WITHOUT AN EXIT

another day
evolves into being
attaches itself to your brains
magnifies
as you try to brace for life
otherwise known
as orchestrated piece of conflicting episodes
masquerading as nights and days
or
beginnings reaching out
to hallucinating
violently torn ends

it is late

you realise
reality of NOW is further from the truth
than reality of NEVER
still life pressed for time
you move your limbs between the two
frustrated
by the  line being so thin
your fingers bleed all the way from birth
to Heavens
and you are still
a man
without an exit
another day evolves into Being
foreign substance that
attaches itself to your brains
magnifies
as you try to brace for its life
orchestrated downpour of episodes
conflicting nights and days
or
beginnings
reaching out to violently torn ends
wherever you turn
they run up to you empty
hallucinating

it is late

late to realize
reality of NOW is further from the truth
than reality of EVER
still life pressed for time
you move your limbs between the two
frustrated
by the line being so thin
your fingers bleed all the way from birth
to Heavens
and you are still
a man
without an exit

hidden

hidden inside but sensed
by few who accept the pain of destiny
all shapes awaken
in all dimensions
shaking the very tree under my skin
they come
and go
as they wish to see you off
through me

human face
is just a rag over your eyes
try to imagine
your print on the water.                distorted by waves
how will you take the flood
sent
to quiet the raging humanimal
soon by thousands
breaking into the mirrors of oceans
with no reflection
or regret
in crossing
finally outnumbered by death

save yourself
for the next abundance
use my Word

Time-Confusing

will you ever
now
realise
there are times in the past
and there are times in the future
and there are times in the now
all bent with space
on miracle of MIND
to tell the difference
when making them out
and you
invent yourself
from time to time

but they are all ONE
vibrating along
danse macabre of energy
as a matter of live everything
expressing
thought

slow down
the future
can
be
sedated
now
think

now

SPENT

how do you calculate this?
do you count hands?
or do you investigate the content of whatever was below in the food chain
and got trapped in their bellies afterwards
maybe legs?
faces?
faeces?
do you go by sets
pairs
per item
or maybe per live breath
thrown away
and left
with no live body to claim?

THIS IS WAR
how do you calculate
the joy
of human cost
spent ?

Beast of Babylon
answer them !

any chance

I am bound
to start toward the doorway
and while nothing stops me
still
I have just been going through intentions
instead of real time
of my life span

do I
by any chance
have a way about me that leads
to the doorway
or
do I
have a problem at following myself
at times
one too many
for my linear mind

Lucifer


I use my name for lack
of a better lie
better excuse for description
that fits mind of the Closure
and fights for my right to last and quiet ceremony
of standing out
as Light
when dawn hardly breaks the skies above

It is the lonely projection
I can seize and belong to
without drowning in doubt
as to whom I speak to
when left alone
by myself
I labor on image of cold
petrified silence
slowly invading abyss
of the Word
broken

It is then that my face
begins to take on contortions from Depths
anguished to look down the bottomless me
I cry
for solid ground by God’s will
left
for a better place
behind
waves of humanity
follow to Hell

 

My sanity

in case
you’ve never heard how I lost
all my sanity

fucking sanity just dissolved out on me
seems gone from my system
whatever was left of it
that I shared anyway
with the whole fucking world

I wasn’t even mortified
I packed my bags earlier
beads of meat
fate
unknown
foreign
elements
on a string of hostile time
manipulated events
and crimes
as this world
well
it watched me go
running in circles of rigor mortis and live
bloody cough

resurrection isn’t anything serious
God knows
I took
my shot

WHEN I WAS LITTLE

when I was little
I would push my face into a pillow
hiding my breath
for starfield would become the air I needed
I called it
awakened air of Milky Way

when I got older
I would learn
of many words and how to speak them
not only to my self
imaginary books would fall by hundreds
through opened windows of the Universe

how come I’ve never  read a passage
on being homeless here
the bluest planet
the hollow Earth
on carpe diem missing sense
in all remaining seconds

and now of age
I am finally home
thus turning into space again
in quiet death I am shared alone
with everything by all