out comes

puking poetry

By time
I was aware
the puke was everywhere spreading
like the universe
I could see traces
of yellow
and acid
pain spiraled in
this was suffering
but I
free of content
overtook space
as a substitute

Nihilistic Poetry Blog


intangible cloud

Dame                                 un                      minuto

                  para                                   desvestir



de                                      su                     tangibilidad;

                  ya                                           no


                ¿qué                     es               real?



                por                                        hacer

en                                      este                        segundo

                es                                          revelar


                             lo                     irreal.




finger points

dream of rain


  because the wind grows my nails
I sit this evening
on the ledge of an ancient
the rain is the dream of the present
the noise of rock
of my bones –
penumbra is the rejoining of fragments
in this quiet atmosphere
speech is green grass returning
to the distant seed
because the wind has fed from
these thoughts of dimension
I am bottom
of the
           pendulum life


Modern Poetry

by the wish

Dandelion Close Up

I don’t talk much
what’s going to happen
probably doesn’t

that my silence
travels here
nowhere else

unshuffled words
my ideas circle
like moths
about a light

too bad
I aborted eternity
this spurious


Nihilistic Poetry

Me caí

Temible Libertad

Me caí
no en un fatalismo
ni en uno de esos abismos
ni a la calle, no hablo
de esas cosas;
me caí
como un templo
que se desploma por un terremoto
y todos los santos de mármol
de mi interior
se estrellaron contra el suelo
reventando en fragmentos irreconocibles;
con mi gran domo de dogmas
sobre la multitud de mi fieles opiniones,
dejando escombros y cadáveres y nada más;
como ese templo
y ya no tengo intermediario
entre lo que soy
y lo que debo ser,
el horizonte queda descubierto sin
esta intercalada catedral,
queda abierto
como esta herida
que se sana
con la temible libertad
             de no saber nada . . .

Poesía Nihilista

I was born Dionisio Palacios

Poetry of Sin
I was born Dionisio Palacios
in the poverty
of my hands
I wished I had
the sky heavy with light
as a noon of sweet fruit
I could taste the earth

I lived in Rua Moderna
between two worlds
that made me feel
like a schism
separating the two

I worked with letters
languages whose words
could evoke
daybreaks in my
blinding madness

I was sentenced to death
and hanged
for the murder of an ideal
an abstract sin
the abomination of believing
         that nothing exists

   but the whisper of the stars. . .