my task is very
simple
observation
untroubled
the battle for
satisfaction
is over
I’m resting my head on phenomena
like on the exposed
breast of my lover
open eyes
breathing
allowing the world
to play with itself
I move cloudlike
I think rocklike
keeping record of things
for this lost history of the soul
On a camel
deeper Morocco
sunset soon
near Sahara
there I started
to feel again,
the beautiful earth
turning in the dream of night;
the stars sailing my mind
all the stars
stars.
staring at the opposite end
of time
in a tent
Berber land
sun gone
near the mighty Sahara.
I’ve had the world
spinning on an idea
yet I never became
Schopenhauer
I never saw it good
or bad or evil
it was simply there
as a mystery
wordless play
and the more I look at it
the more it became
an idle dream. . .
Most of the time
I cannot write
of what I see
or think
I feel but I do not seek
subjectively I am indeterminism
within a fatalistic mechanism of the soul
I observe, even participate
in the sacrificed logic
shedding
pale metaphysical tears
because the longer I live
so much more has gathered
about the edge
as more days go by
I begin to recognize
the happy truth
that I was
barely
here at all
I am so far away,
the moment
is a scorching taste of whiskey
in my half-agape mouth
my hand curling
the hair of
chance
nonchalance
alas is for me a word
signifying wings
history is in my sensations
to end this night
in the consolation of death
being as gentle as
sleep
far away from what is believed,
towards the prismatic dispersal
of becoming again
transitory
so far away
aging with the journey
of name
Nihilistic Poetry Blog
I have been standing
here
for the last decade
people call me weirdo
rocklike
monument
or
nothing
what am I waiting for
in this passive
insistence?
I will tell you
the glimmer in the eyes
at the exact moment
when the next one
realizes
that everything is in its right place
and nothing more needs
to be done
the rest is fable.
Modern Poetry Blog
the air
suspense
essential passing
I sense life
as a song
surrounding
a cloud
soft motion
I hover
like a circumference
with no edge
the living and the dead
sleep next to me
tonight
broken azure
pieces of joy
clashing
in the silent pause
fly
in curls
in the air
that surrounds
the fallen
melody
of
time
Modern Poetry Blog
I am heaping like an
intersection
of instances
dispersing as the floral
loop of sleep
tangibly draped with invisibility
the static beeping of my departure
witnessing the burst of egos
so uncontrollably distant from each other
in the topography of my identity
I am lost between the trees and the forest
I can’t see the wood
for the raw wildfire of my
existence
all I am saying is that I have no control
in moments like these
being a Buddhist
would have been a good idea.
Modern Poetry Blog
Automata
eject the unconscious
under the wild smear
of the event
anger
a coil
like a spin
on the axis
of regret
together
like the skies
change as the seasons
of our fears
waiting
while creating
the future
that entertains us
like a drug
in the mouth
of time
Modern Poetry Blog
there are rare days
that begin
with orchestras crying my eyes
colors dripping memories
city strolls in mammoth steps
I carry pocket-sized chaos
on my shoulder, pretending to be a pirate
on the sea of modernity,
off we sail
into the wind
as plastic wrap
buoyant on meaninglessness
there are rare days
that begin
with suspension points
calmly insinuating that
life is passing by
there are rare days
that begin
with tiny airplanes tied to the tips
of my fingers
seems like I’m about to take off
but then I remember
the anchors tied to my toes
that sink me
into
never mind.
Modern Poetry Blog
Beyond Language 
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