Poetry

of love

malene_raun_singer

i know
that your face
shining like a fog
is nothing
but emptiness

that your hand
sliding down
past my navel
grabs a cock
which is shapeless

i accept
the vows
and promises
of love
in a universe
of decay

i know
my love
you are a flutter
in the vast chain of being
and i have kissed
the fleeting
mystery of a lip

i comprehend
our nudity
as a mirage
and that words
coil around us
like fumes of legend

we
arbitrary
like a sun and fate
share a millennium
of spontaneity

i know
your face
is but a passage
an instrument
for the invisible
to be formulated

let’s rub
the falsity of our skins
against the
improbability of our bliss

infinite
you

and

delirious
me

21st century poetry

empty chord

Chord of light

Anything can happen
rocks can fall off your bed
and smash the little structure of happiness
we had on the floor
the lamp can explode
into milliard moths
that fly into a whole neurosis
the moon can leap into your soup
drowning behind an outshining pea
anything
like biting off the nails of your assumptions
until hitting the hard red pain of delusion
you can even lose your marbles
drop them along the way
because you run after
the bigger tumbleweed of truth
anything can happen
when the world is an empty
chord reflected
from the wings
of a sleeping
butterfly.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

no sediment

light
breathable
settling in ever
heavier expanses
like millions of years of glaciers
shifting the crude element of skin
a ray in the spiral of a silent mood
fling the head like a child
oblivious of sight
of experience zooming out the pond into the sky
rocking up and down like a bird placing the sun
as an echo on the miraculous tree
away from the blue waters an afterimage
in the mouth of a fish
suspended
like minor fruit
in this vein of flight
glimpse
into the organs of thought
the measure and intelligence of an irrational kiss
repose
like a cluster of grapes
leaning their shadow
on anything but a memory.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

worship the feminine

Pablo Saborio's avatarBeyond Language

Suddenly, dawn
succinctly brightening
      the paradox of your eyes
my finger measuring
      the metaphor of your lips
my breath all over
      the aphorism of your neck
slow, as years
my hand goes further down
to caress timidly
      the analogy of your breasts
carefully, I excite your heartbeat
as the mischievous palm enters
      the axiom of your venter
inevitably, I draw a line south
to reach tenderly
      the plethora of your vagina
but I do not stop there
for my next desire is
      the doctrine of your legs
and further yet
between sunrise and noon
I reverently kiss
      the premise of your feet.

Contemporary Poetry

(dedicated to M. R.)

 

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against the world

I’m at war
with the world
its shapeless thrust
its violent repose
mutiny
against the world
a disfiguring cause
tingling morphing touch
a vengeance
a lone modicum of timelessness
fueled by: laughter
for all that exists
within and without
carried by an ant
on a sole journey of gust
rising lighter holier
this is war
against the irreconcilable meaning
against the backside of the world
against the frailty of a second
against the ineffable fringe
against the possibility
against the echoing madness
I’m all fury and decay
bringing down the world
from the heights of its
assumption.

 

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

unknowingness

Our current knowledge
will be clear
to be no more
than a droplet
within an immeasurable
ocean of unknowingness –
we pretend on this earth
to know more than we
know not
we dispel mystery
because we have
a few theories
and laws of Nature
as a poet I seek
that vaster sphere
of Nature Unknown
I do not call it
divine
but because of its
opulent mystery,
I deem it
sacred.

 

 

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

between himself as a fact and the other facts there is a harmony of metaphysical rhythm

metaphysical rock

I lift
the stone
and find
red

the sky
is the outer
shell of mother’s
breast

they kissed
to imitate
a sleeping
sound

I allow
the species of rock
to define
my heart

so many
drunks
surround me
like a fence

I collect
our sighs
like crumbs
of drying wax

if shop windows
were mirrors
we would buy
ourselves

I pick up
a wet piece of paper
on the other side
said: impossible

I return
to the stone
lift and find:
archers with ash bows

my vision
turns red
and partly
unborn

I listen
to wisdom
and remember
its broken wings

I sit inside
a library
because there is
nowhere else to go.

 

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

arch

mystic poetry

It was not yet summer
when the light dissolved
absolutely over my tongue

I had to return to the past
as if digging
a ruthless hole in my skin
my veins my bones my sky

will the black worm
eat consume digest
reinvent me?

death is the smoke
we breathe in
to unfold like a cluster
of manifestation

passively
the dream
reposes inside the
shell of reality

in one drop
of philosophy
the solitude
is assuaged

but the aperture
the encounter
the expanse
available only
through the pristine
ache of mystery
and its pilgrimage
found in an alighting
morsel of
beauty.

Nihilistic Poetry