My God leans over me
-Get up- he says, even though it's dark outside.
And dream demands a point
He doesn't know what sleep is, so he hassles me
to brush my teeth, to eat my breakfast
With persuasion's and incentive's strength
My God didn't create the world in one week
Work isn't a great deal
Continuously makes mistakes and swears
Burying in details- looses the thread
Doesn't know where the end is, or the beginning
Sarcastically says, it is my fault.
Still it isn't enough
Abstracted roads
Pervicacious guest.
My God.
Usually helpless rather than resourceful
a single opportunity he won't gamble away
With reason always he is on the tree trunk
However he cannot waive his hand over
Doesn't know how to shrug
Wherever in the world something is cooking
There, like a thorn in hell, He will break in
Never ending rotation in the hospital
Gives up the eternity of a moment
When he leans over someone
Although he has knots in his lower back
On a knock on the door
Whoever He can
Lets in
My God.
Grievance he has, for his celestial Bothers
That he is charged a high price
For his preparedness for penalty and mercy
He admires them enough for their
Almighty-ness, and lack of doubt
and for inhuman ingenuity
He himself has trouble with calculus
He wont estimate chastity for anyone
And he won't collect crops of sins
Tad extravagant, tad late
Always feels in debt
So none brute can double cross him
And each debt
Strikes him down
He- His own enemy
My God.
Not a suprise that sometimes he can't wield
Start drinking, like He lives in shebeen
And in lust gets lost
Look for him in the darkest dens I can find
He runs wild- and I am hungover
Nod head over breakfast
Quiet like embarrassment, like a dash in a sentence
Afraid to bring simple truths to the day light
That outside of our window darkness mooches
That He has to die with me
And despite the fact - he still wants to live with me
Don't pour tears
On the doorstep
I love You,
My God!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
negative.emotional.balance
I think I grew out of naive belief
In intentions that others may have
Wasting time on arguing motifs and impulses.
I no longer play psychoanalysis and apologetics.
Gave so many credits of reliance that I am in huge debt.
End of ends- I became behaviorust.
Now I only look.
In intentions that others may have
Wasting time on arguing motifs and impulses.
I no longer play psychoanalysis and apologetics.
Gave so many credits of reliance that I am in huge debt.
End of ends- I became behaviorust.
Now I only look.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
...being stupid together.
I have lost myself on few roads
Hoping the one I am on is the precise one
There was a moment in time
where the entire world was left behind.
I lost something in this race on a wrong road.
Love is made of wonderful, little places,
where you can find the meaning of life.
Even if you try to live and dream without it
The heart will find its way.
Like a raft drifting on the river
You dont know where the stream will take you
Love might be a commonplace
But without it- this journey looses sense.
Because love is being stupid together.
Hoping the one I am on is the precise one
There was a moment in time
where the entire world was left behind.
I lost something in this race on a wrong road.
Love is made of wonderful, little places,
where you can find the meaning of life.
Even if you try to live and dream without it
The heart will find its way.
Like a raft drifting on the river
You dont know where the stream will take you
Love might be a commonplace
But without it- this journey looses sense.
Because love is being stupid together.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Lubię moment...
Indian summer, summer of love, some would say.
What kind of love, I would ask.
But Gemini, May children were denied the so called "voice rights".
Indian summer, summer of love it is then.
Ends and goes to the season in which I am a part of the air,
in which I soak and I absolutely love it.
Into the season of suspended smoke.
I like the moment, when the sun comes down
I like the silence, interrupted by a gust of wind
I like to fall asleep to the sound of rain drops
I waited for the rain
City dried out copletely
Clouds of dust wander around the campus
And autumn finally began to smell
Autumn, like salvation,
to hide in leaves
up to my knees, up to my neck,
and to listen to Jeff Buckely on boards of floor :)
What kind of love, I would ask.
But Gemini, May children were denied the so called "voice rights".
Indian summer, summer of love it is then.
Ends and goes to the season in which I am a part of the air,
in which I soak and I absolutely love it.
Into the season of suspended smoke.
I like the moment, when the sun comes down
I like the silence, interrupted by a gust of wind
I like to fall asleep to the sound of rain drops
I waited for the rain
City dried out copletely
Clouds of dust wander around the campus
And autumn finally began to smell
Autumn, like salvation,
to hide in leaves
up to my knees, up to my neck,
and to listen to Jeff Buckely on boards of floor :)
rhymes. rhythm. patter. hammer for the witch. and water tryouts.
In the morning I had a "life" talk, and thereafter- chocolate bar with Kim.
She told me I have happiness in my eyes and asked what happened.
I told her that it may be the pollen, that I am allergic to,
Linden or something along those lines ;)
Well, why you may ask? Because according to all norms and definitions I should still be unhappy. Maybe. I mean, I thought so. Well, I think I maybe should think like that. In meantime, I feel that there is zero to no room for the 'drama in few acts',
and more space for life and the rest of "real" things.
While on track of cogitation about this and that, I went back to work.
And thought about visiting Sue of Oz, at the world's fifth periphery.
Forest, foster home, monastery, whorehouse and nursing home
all are just few steps away from Sue's place.
Seriously- AWESOME neighbors!
Like every year around this time, when summer is not fully here,
but everything slowly heralds its arrival-beach syndrome turns on-
I think about sun sets, dancing, blasting music in my car
and soft, white-sheet bedding.
Simply. Just like that- after long weeks of winter city-laziness -
I start playing Deadmau5's 'Tiny Dancer'.
When I bellyache, linger, and generally can't get my shit together to leave the house- it is necessary to throw me under a heavy stream of (cold) water in the shower, with clothes on. Next, wash my hair, without taking my pants off.
Do you guys know how cool it is to have water flow out of your pant-leg? :D
Speaking of which, I found out what colours my laundry red,
Those damn socks I like so much.
She told me I have happiness in my eyes and asked what happened.
I told her that it may be the pollen, that I am allergic to,
Linden or something along those lines ;)
Well, why you may ask? Because according to all norms and definitions I should still be unhappy. Maybe. I mean, I thought so. Well, I think I maybe should think like that. In meantime, I feel that there is zero to no room for the 'drama in few acts',
and more space for life and the rest of "real" things.
While on track of cogitation about this and that, I went back to work.
And thought about visiting Sue of Oz, at the world's fifth periphery.
Forest, foster home, monastery, whorehouse and nursing home
all are just few steps away from Sue's place.
Seriously- AWESOME neighbors!
Like every year around this time, when summer is not fully here,
but everything slowly heralds its arrival-beach syndrome turns on-
I think about sun sets, dancing, blasting music in my car
and soft, white-sheet bedding.
Simply. Just like that- after long weeks of winter city-laziness -
I start playing Deadmau5's 'Tiny Dancer'.
When I bellyache, linger, and generally can't get my shit together to leave the house- it is necessary to throw me under a heavy stream of (cold) water in the shower, with clothes on. Next, wash my hair, without taking my pants off.
Do you guys know how cool it is to have water flow out of your pant-leg? :D
Speaking of which, I found out what colours my laundry red,
Those damn socks I like so much.
Monday, September 15, 2008
pending.binomial.complacement
Hereby I state that my 'emotional' life is quite charming and very greedy time absorbent.
But let it be like this. Let it happen. I want a timestopper. So it stays like this forever.
But let it be like this. Let it happen. I want a timestopper. So it stays like this forever.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
03.20 AM
Because severly, very severly, tired I am of pissing away and wasting my time today
(from all that, I even started- oh terror!- working pairing up my socks)
I think without further remorse I can finally go to sleep
I am so morbidly proud of myself, that a moment more and I will start banging my head on the keyboard...
It is known- when you feel guilty, your best bet is to have a "spectacular fuss"
(object: to flip over the attention from merits of the case)
I have all that memorized by heart, to perfection, in the ordinary way- world championship ;)
(from all that, I even started- oh terror!- working pairing up my socks)
I think without further remorse I can finally go to sleep
I am so morbidly proud of myself, that a moment more and I will start banging my head on the keyboard...
It is known- when you feel guilty, your best bet is to have a "spectacular fuss"
(object: to flip over the attention from merits of the case)
I have all that memorized by heart, to perfection, in the ordinary way- world championship ;)
Monday, July 21, 2008
FVS (Frozen Vodka Syndrome)
Why do I always lose my head, when it's most needed?
Why I can't get rid of it, when reasoning is totally out of place?
I tried getting drunk, surprisingly- didn't work out.
Instead got a rapid cynicism attack
Reality, in its common-ness seemed almost repellent
Thousands theories, for everything and everyone, which of course
were delivered in a single lecture on my way home, threading my way
through humid summer air
Brute in me doesn't want to sleep again. muzzle I will buy for it, whang leash,
hip in the ear, electric shepherd I will place around
and will look how it sizzles with each step
Sleep, my dear beast. with a stick will I tan leather on its crest.
Will tie it to a tree. Will make it stand out in the rain, and all that.
Just sleep my darling.
Chwilo - trwaj
Depresjo - ......wypierdalaj!
Why I can't get rid of it, when reasoning is totally out of place?
I tried getting drunk, surprisingly- didn't work out.
Instead got a rapid cynicism attack
Reality, in its common-ness seemed almost repellent
Thousands theories, for everything and everyone, which of course
were delivered in a single lecture on my way home, threading my way
through humid summer air
Brute in me doesn't want to sleep again. muzzle I will buy for it, whang leash,
hip in the ear, electric shepherd I will place around
and will look how it sizzles with each step
Sleep, my dear beast. with a stick will I tan leather on its crest.
Will tie it to a tree. Will make it stand out in the rain, and all that.
Just sleep my darling.
Chwilo - trwaj
Depresjo - ......wypierdalaj!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Trust
So, OK. Fine. To trust? Just to later use that knowledge, most likely just to empower my advantage over someone else? I try to responsibly bestow others with my trust. I calculate. The difference between our judgement is more less like, hmmm.... like the difference between marriage because it's reasonable, and marriage because of love. But some just don't understand and call me "the brain specialist". Waddle in circles. Again and again. Still the same spot.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Closer to the Stars
Like an angel, I fall on your roof,
Closer to the stars.
High waves, and a walk on the bottom of the sea
On sweet snow we knocked on the door,
No one answered.
No one waited at the heaven’s door.
Streets of dreams,
You know how it is,
If you have it.
Tempting with the Lips of the Gates
On sweet snow we knocked on the door
No one answered.
No one waited at the heaven’s door.
When I hold fear in my hands,
When fire dances in me,
The sweet snow is just snow,
That’s when I want to be close to the stars.
With you.
Closer to the stars.
High waves, and a walk on the bottom of the sea
On sweet snow we knocked on the door,
No one answered.
No one waited at the heaven’s door.
Streets of dreams,
You know how it is,
If you have it.
Tempting with the Lips of the Gates
On sweet snow we knocked on the door
No one answered.
No one waited at the heaven’s door.
When I hold fear in my hands,
When fire dances in me,
The sweet snow is just snow,
That’s when I want to be close to the stars.
With you.
Once, on the Street of Dreams...
...
I painted my days
The salesmen took em
I needed to live
Unexpectedly, you showed up
Like a lost thought's sense
Miserable,
Stood in an empty gateway
When I painted your last day
You walked away before
before I understood that
It is impossible to leave
They said "Sell the painting, if you want to live"
I didnt have anything else
In the morning
They woke me up
I was at the empty gateway
No "Good-Bye's"
I had to go
Black, dense forest
Stood in my way
Hands entwined in thorns
Millions of years tried to tear through
To find you, still
Fiery bird gnaws the dream
Lack of strength, lack of tears
And suddenly, someone
Embraced me
Bizarre, empty room
Understand each other
Without words
Once, on the Street of Dreams
I painted my days
The salesmen took em
I needed to live
Unexpectedly, you showed up
Like a lost thought's sense
Miserable,
Stood in an empty gateway
When I painted your last day
You walked away before
before I understood that
It is impossible to leave
They said "Sell the painting, if you want to live"
I didnt have anything else
In the morning
They woke me up
I was at the empty gateway
No "Good-Bye's"
I had to go
Black, dense forest
Stood in my way
Hands entwined in thorns
Millions of years tried to tear through
To find you, still
Fiery bird gnaws the dream
Lack of strength, lack of tears
And suddenly, someone
Embraced me
Bizarre, empty room
Understand each other
Without words
Once, on the Street of Dreams
Darling, please.
It's good,
Too good to be real…
Missing you already
Though
Our bodies
Are
Still one
Darling, please...
Don't be angry
Dawn is almost here
I have to leave
It's good,
too good…
Exhausted,
Worn out
With everyday life
Saved from the Hands of Hell
I don't want to think
What would happen
If we haven't met
On time
Darling, please
Don't be angry
Dawn is here, again...
I have to leave
No one can take your place
You…
I only have...
Too good to be real…
Missing you already
Though
Our bodies
Are
Still one
Darling, please...
Don't be angry
Dawn is almost here
I have to leave
It's good,
too good…
Exhausted,
Worn out
With everyday life
Saved from the Hands of Hell
I don't want to think
What would happen
If we haven't met
On time
Darling, please
Don't be angry
Dawn is here, again...
I have to leave
No one can take your place
You…
I only have...
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time, at dawn, cars fell down from heaven
Still sleeping, I boarded one, and took off
It was breezy, and it smelled like angels
It happened somewhere in May,
or it happened to someone else?
Through astonished streets I drove, and dreamt
The city was an illusion, windows of life
Lunatic bodies glimmered
However, it could have been my sigh
And next to my car, silver silence ran
And you could hear the metal and Lilly of the valley
Just above the horizon, today sprouted
And I was driving, farther and farther
The world slowly started changing into my future
Self-assurance, that once I pass the turn, after many events
I met, once upon a time, myself, or will still meet
Experienced with everything that will not happen
My car- with a silver overlay
So bright that it turned into momentum
Everything was so pure
Just like someone stole the soil.
Still sleeping, I boarded one, and took off
It was breezy, and it smelled like angels
It happened somewhere in May,
or it happened to someone else?
Through astonished streets I drove, and dreamt
The city was an illusion, windows of life
Lunatic bodies glimmered
However, it could have been my sigh
And next to my car, silver silence ran
And you could hear the metal and Lilly of the valley
Just above the horizon, today sprouted
And I was driving, farther and farther
The world slowly started changing into my future
Self-assurance, that once I pass the turn, after many events
I met, once upon a time, myself, or will still meet
Experienced with everything that will not happen
My car- with a silver overlay
So bright that it turned into momentum
Everything was so pure
Just like someone stole the soil.
Happiness
Happiness is here
Has many colours
Sometimes accelerates breathing
Gives sign to your heart
Happiness is in us
Inflames hearts when the time comes
If you believe
To the stars
She will lead you til the very end
Will teach you to dream
Change the world
Music, the one that your hearts hums
You want more
When you know you love like in your dreams,
Happiness is here
It's sweeter than honey
When you taste Happiness for the first time
Happiness is a game
Scary joy
Wait for what wind will bring
And you will never be alone again
because
If you believe
To the stars
She will lead you till the very end
Will teach you to dream
Will change the world....
Has many colours
Sometimes accelerates breathing
Gives sign to your heart
Happiness is in us
Inflames hearts when the time comes
If you believe
To the stars
She will lead you til the very end
Will teach you to dream
Change the world
Music, the one that your hearts hums
You want more
When you know you love like in your dreams,
Happiness is here
It's sweeter than honey
When you taste Happiness for the first time
Happiness is a game
Scary joy
Wait for what wind will bring
And you will never be alone again
because
If you believe
To the stars
She will lead you till the very end
Will teach you to dream
Will change the world....
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Recently it happens...
...that I bump into people,
I really don't wish to see.
I say things, well, that I really don't want to say.
Nice? Not at all, I am far from nice.
Point out mistakes, that depend on them, and they have effect on.
It has nothing to do with hypocrisy.
In a matter of speaking, they ask for it.
So used to my peak elocution and diplomacy on my behalf.
Sometimes I dont understand those witty renderings...
Sometimes I really have nothing to say...
Somtimes no one wants to hear what I want and have to say...
and talk to me about what I wanted to say,
often- I dont feel the need to do so...
Sometimes it seems that there are no restrains, but that only seems...
I really don't wish to see.
I say things, well, that I really don't want to say.
Nice? Not at all, I am far from nice.
Point out mistakes, that depend on them, and they have effect on.
It has nothing to do with hypocrisy.
In a matter of speaking, they ask for it.
So used to my peak elocution and diplomacy on my behalf.
Sometimes I dont understand those witty renderings...
Sometimes I really have nothing to say...
Somtimes no one wants to hear what I want and have to say...
and talk to me about what I wanted to say,
often- I dont feel the need to do so...
Sometimes it seems that there are no restrains, but that only seems...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Stairs to Heaven
Stairs to Heaven, Princess
Touch them. Everyday, with few eyelashes
With the tip of your slipper, with hem of your dress
They are wide with silver rails
You can pinch Sun's rosy cheeks if You stand on the top of them.
Drink ruby wine and make love on white marble
But You cannot see it, Little Princess, because You want to rise above the Sky
Don't shake your head, and don't let strange men kiss your hands.
It may cause a hemorrhage.
Worse than the Cerebral one/
Much worse.
Give it up.
Saving the world solo just doesn't make much sense
Lines of your wrists are mute possessed allegories
They disappear. That's not how you do it.
Cold.
I stole those holy prayers
Remember the day borders break
The Witch doesn't repeat the spell twice
Touch them. Everyday, with few eyelashes
With the tip of your slipper, with hem of your dress
They are wide with silver rails
You can pinch Sun's rosy cheeks if You stand on the top of them.
Drink ruby wine and make love on white marble
But You cannot see it, Little Princess, because You want to rise above the Sky
Don't shake your head, and don't let strange men kiss your hands.
It may cause a hemorrhage.
Worse than the Cerebral one/
Much worse.
Give it up.
Saving the world solo just doesn't make much sense
Lines of your wrists are mute possessed allegories
They disappear. That's not how you do it.
Cold.
I stole those holy prayers
Remember the day borders break
The Witch doesn't repeat the spell twice
Monday, May 12, 2008
Border of decency
You can lose love, on which you wanted to build the rest of your world.
You can lose friendship, which turned out to only be a twaddle about principles and loyalty.
No extravagance- you cannot lose yourself.
It's not quite the thing.
You can lose friendship, which turned out to only be a twaddle about principles and loyalty.
No extravagance- you cannot lose yourself.
It's not quite the thing.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Past
Past.
The Lady.
Tiring and moody.
When You wish to finally
drag away
from Her black lips
from Her rainbow fan
memories
Her feet encroach
In Red Boots
Into space-time
Into presence
Stretches transparent veil
like a shroud
over the streets
Old rain
Morning storm
Night gale
Want
to count up
but She still
and still
discards your statements
Sends new ones
wrapped
in blood red ribbons.
The Lady.
Tiring and moody.
When You wish to finally
drag away
from Her black lips
from Her rainbow fan
memories
Her feet encroach
In Red Boots
Into space-time
Into presence
Stretches transparent veil
like a shroud
over the streets
Old rain
Morning storm
Night gale
Want
to count up
but She still
and still
discards your statements
Sends new ones
wrapped
in blood red ribbons.
Moment is Music
I will make it simple-
we know each other for more than a day-
Not just one night fulfilling
Ask me nothing, just read my lips
Moment is music, when You touch me.
Make music when we are together.
How many flaws I have I know
How much of my heart I can give- I know
The world and past-
I cannot change.
I write this.
Why? Because I can
I know your smell, and I fall asleep
I want to feel You
Giving yourself to me
Sure, I am breaking the rule of privacy.
But you know how far this has gone.
There are moments
When anger closes eyes.
Blindly run,
Life looses its sense.
Don't have any questions about that.
I hate when things grind.
Make my dreams come true
Stupid fate won't win.
Life will pay off the debt.
Lets take what ours
and take a road trip.
we know each other for more than a day-
Not just one night fulfilling
Ask me nothing, just read my lips
Moment is music, when You touch me.
Make music when we are together.
How many flaws I have I know
How much of my heart I can give- I know
The world and past-
I cannot change.
I write this.
Why? Because I can
I know your smell, and I fall asleep
I want to feel You
Giving yourself to me
Sure, I am breaking the rule of privacy.
But you know how far this has gone.
There are moments
When anger closes eyes.
Blindly run,
Life looses its sense.
Don't have any questions about that.
I hate when things grind.
Make my dreams come true
Stupid fate won't win.
Life will pay off the debt.
Lets take what ours
and take a road trip.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
The Rainy Aura
Staring into the rainy aura outside the window
I concluded that I do not regret a single thing in my life.
All the important matters, issues, causes,
that once seemed like failures and defeats,
today make sense, and have a target.
It was worth to cry over my broken heart or the friendship
that got lost to understand, to thank for it, to appreciate it,
and mostly- to find a new one.
...despite absolute fatigue, despite absolute dejection,
despite fear, despite the fact that not everything is going my way,
I am so damn happy.
Spring outside my window, sun shines only for me,
I walk and search for freckles.
I concluded that I do not regret a single thing in my life.
All the important matters, issues, causes,
that once seemed like failures and defeats,
today make sense, and have a target.
It was worth to cry over my broken heart or the friendship
that got lost to understand, to thank for it, to appreciate it,
and mostly- to find a new one.
...despite absolute fatigue, despite absolute dejection,
despite fear, despite the fact that not everything is going my way,
I am so damn happy.
Spring outside my window, sun shines only for me,
I walk and search for freckles.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Forgotten chocolates
The sun shining on the side, poor thing is probably still afraid,
but its shy rays ask if they may, will I finally smile.
Human lives are unbelievable, however, told with reality.
Unexpected meeting.
A smile. A kiss. Peace in mind.
Chaos.
..and wonderful box of forgotten chocolates...
but its shy rays ask if they may, will I finally smile.
Human lives are unbelievable, however, told with reality.
Unexpected meeting.
A smile. A kiss. Peace in mind.
Chaos.
..and wonderful box of forgotten chocolates...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Seduced Me.
Seduced me.
With that smile of yours
That melts ice
Reflecting in your eyes
Highlighting the world
Broadcasting colours
Calming the sorrow.
That Smile of Yours.
Medicine for everything.
Smile of Yours.
Unusual.
Extraordinary.
Smile of Yours.
and the world is spinning.
Enchanted world.
and within it
I
Touched by a magic wand.
That smile of Yours.
With that smile of yours
That melts ice
Reflecting in your eyes
Highlighting the world
Broadcasting colours
Calming the sorrow.
That Smile of Yours.
Medicine for everything.
Smile of Yours.
Unusual.
Extraordinary.
Smile of Yours.
and the world is spinning.
Enchanted world.
and within it
I
Touched by a magic wand.
That smile of Yours.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
...because life can be tedious, hideous, and hopeless
Threw my jacket on the table and warned everyone I was pissed off.
Won't answer the phone.
Tell them I am not here, that a truck hit me if you must,
and if it happens to be the president, just tell him
I may call him when I have a free moment.
I am approaching that thin border, tolerating the alive matter,
I am ready to turn my cell phone off as its ring makes me furious.
You can walk a lot faster than some wish to run
have whatever you desire
Each thought turn into a positive word
Listen.
Listen because
It's so funny to breath through a pink straw
Blissful so, to talk without unpleasant memories
Each day tells us more
Listen.
Trust yourself one more time
Show what you are made of
Not just once
Beautiful words do tell everything
But won't change a damn thing
Won't answer the phone.
Tell them I am not here, that a truck hit me if you must,
and if it happens to be the president, just tell him
I may call him when I have a free moment.
I am approaching that thin border, tolerating the alive matter,
I am ready to turn my cell phone off as its ring makes me furious.
You can walk a lot faster than some wish to run
have whatever you desire
Each thought turn into a positive word
Listen.
Listen because
It's so funny to breath through a pink straw
Blissful so, to talk without unpleasant memories
Each day tells us more
Listen.
Trust yourself one more time
Show what you are made of
Not just once
Beautiful words do tell everything
But won't change a damn thing
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Cursed city of whores and pimps
I start believing that I live 20 km away from the moon.
Because I loose stable contact with reality.
Dirty power, probably bloody sparrows sitting on wires.
"You better watch out for what you say to yourself.
Because it might just turn out that you are actually listening".
Damn. And I didn't come up with this earlier????
Cursed city of whores and pimps, and in that city, I.
Jell-O like consumptionism sticks to the walls, and in the air you can smell the stench of stale snobbery
Latch on to someone else's ideas, when I lack my own.
I don't know.
I don't understand so many things,though I try so hard.
Conformism or helplessness???
Because I loose stable contact with reality.
Dirty power, probably bloody sparrows sitting on wires.
"You better watch out for what you say to yourself.
Because it might just turn out that you are actually listening".
Damn. And I didn't come up with this earlier????
Cursed city of whores and pimps, and in that city, I.
Jell-O like consumptionism sticks to the walls, and in the air you can smell the stench of stale snobbery
Latch on to someone else's ideas, when I lack my own.
I don't know.
I don't understand so many things,though I try so hard.
Conformism or helplessness???
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Starting Fires
Creaky floor, bitter tea, and old furniture that you know so well, fall asleep, wake up, and dream in reality, few minutes broke free from a dream, and few hours when you are not asleep, looking away from the bright sun. In your head, and before closed eyes, you see long lost puzzle pieces, BLIK!!!! Small room, and the material isn't always tight enough, jumping, and rip into wrinkled snippets of white sheets, you see white instead of remembered-forgotten paintings, where are the faces from the past, once upon a time, in the past, you can close the gate?? So, listen, how is it, something has changed inside or outside of you, in something, or quite possibly in someone else, or maybe the bar stool has bent legs, or bartender's tits were too small??? Where are the fragments of the "old" you, fading and color-less, where is the aroma of the old magic, odorless passion, dry roses, and after all you hate roses. And so what?
Listen, cellophane swishes, from a destabilized vase water overflows, and all of a sudden you remember what shoes the priest wore at the funeral of a long forgotten aunt, but so painfully you try to remember what color were the eyes of that blond guy, who once was your whole world, and now- he only became a piece of it. How is that possible, that in us, stick around, those little fragments of daily life, and melted Sunday ice cream, and I don't exactly remember when the sense ended, when so many people disappeared, and so many came in from shivering darkness, when you were looking in a totally different direction.
And them, you lean over old, ripped notebook from those dreams, where you were drunk off words, where "forever" existed, and where "never" didn't, and only harder and harder your heart was beating, and how you are afraid, so bloody afraid, that your today wont only be a yesterday tomorrow, so it wont become a ripped stocking, or empty, plastic bottle- you know, you know oh so well – cant drink your beer from yesterday, and yesterday's hour wont get you drunk.. Where is it in You? Where is room for chocking unease of present happiness? It's silly to be afraid because of fear, but if You are afraid of fear itself, is it really wiser?
It's in you everyday, and with each- new one comes back, with each echoed-word, and executed gesture, you wake up again, what, what if, maybe, and maybe sooooo- long ago exchanged for confidence in possibility and rebellion, but why haven't you exchanged the stupid hope, stupid feelings, and funny night-mare-pillow-mentality???? See, you see only unhappiness, and because of that you become unhappy, and if the bells are silent, and steps are too quite, you will miss them, you will not notice them.
Echoes of yesterday wont pass me by, and I will catch the sweet tones of today in the butterfly net, if so, if not…but even then, it's all mine, like in the instant when it happened, and what is coming up- still has radiant cloud, and taste like chocolate liqueur, and like nothing else, nor anything or anyone else.
Good night to all, eyes will rest and head will stop the fire, because with the hay lining I am just asking for fires of future days, which, trust me when I say, are not hard to start.
Listen, cellophane swishes, from a destabilized vase water overflows, and all of a sudden you remember what shoes the priest wore at the funeral of a long forgotten aunt, but so painfully you try to remember what color were the eyes of that blond guy, who once was your whole world, and now- he only became a piece of it. How is that possible, that in us, stick around, those little fragments of daily life, and melted Sunday ice cream, and I don't exactly remember when the sense ended, when so many people disappeared, and so many came in from shivering darkness, when you were looking in a totally different direction.
And them, you lean over old, ripped notebook from those dreams, where you were drunk off words, where "forever" existed, and where "never" didn't, and only harder and harder your heart was beating, and how you are afraid, so bloody afraid, that your today wont only be a yesterday tomorrow, so it wont become a ripped stocking, or empty, plastic bottle- you know, you know oh so well – cant drink your beer from yesterday, and yesterday's hour wont get you drunk.. Where is it in You? Where is room for chocking unease of present happiness? It's silly to be afraid because of fear, but if You are afraid of fear itself, is it really wiser?
It's in you everyday, and with each- new one comes back, with each echoed-word, and executed gesture, you wake up again, what, what if, maybe, and maybe sooooo- long ago exchanged for confidence in possibility and rebellion, but why haven't you exchanged the stupid hope, stupid feelings, and funny night-mare-pillow-mentality???? See, you see only unhappiness, and because of that you become unhappy, and if the bells are silent, and steps are too quite, you will miss them, you will not notice them.
Echoes of yesterday wont pass me by, and I will catch the sweet tones of today in the butterfly net, if so, if not…but even then, it's all mine, like in the instant when it happened, and what is coming up- still has radiant cloud, and taste like chocolate liqueur, and like nothing else, nor anything or anyone else.
Good night to all, eyes will rest and head will stop the fire, because with the hay lining I am just asking for fires of future days, which, trust me when I say, are not hard to start.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
