the perception of nothing

The curtain gilded by hidden source
everything is wrestling in a futile battle for birth
it is underground miasma where my eyes
fall upon like castles of music;
barely touched
barely a cusp from the fountain of indifferent distribution
the memory of existing essentially empty of existence
colorless fraction of silence
floating in the stream that roams
through the anfractuosity of the event;

my toy car
mother eyes
love

o

the fuel of phenomena

distant but within sight
asunder
the constellation of the hunt

blue impermanent struggle
words as the indeterminate quarks of reason

my folded heart
         tucked
in the plenitude of the unknown.

Nihilistic Poetry Blog

zumo de caos

Fruta Corazon

La cola que deja la aparición
un dragón de humo nadando
en la danza del tiempo y la historia,
culmina la evolución en una colilla
de cigarrillo, muerta de sed y sol,
para que llegue el empleado de limpieza
al barrer la mesa del piso y comerse
las puntas de los pelos con la boca
de un respiro – mientras tanto yo
cansado como los hielos de la risa,
observo los hechos absurdos de mi época –
la poza del olvido centellando
con el plástico quemado de la sabiduría,
la fruta aplastada del corazón.

 

Poesía 2011

an analysis of sadness

 

 

dO you smell the crust
of the aging mutation,
with mY despair
spreading
on the epidermis like
a rash of Saturn;
I’m seated on the stool
of a cosmos, looking at
the eyes of the bartender
that serves one last
drink of bitter birth;
the memory of orange sequence
expanding in the wave
of the hour;
the noise was a velvet number
dialing red, green, blue
in the connection of perception —

a nook like the sun
an insignificance
with the oblivion spangled
moments.

 

 

 

 

the process

chisinau_market_21st_century_poetry

The axis of third world haircuts

the bland greed of vodka drinkers

the pale skin of the lonely heart

the tomato sun of the market

the prison noise of the taxi-bus

the Cyrillic insistence of the numbered floor

the deathblow in the eyes of the stranger foe

–          Chisinau my jail –

the guilty joy of soaring through the clouds

the change and the chaos

the memory

and the wait.

Nihilistic Poetry Blog

seltzer star

Seltzer star
fizzling like a pill of dust
in the throat of mass misery
wrapped in prison hours
and seconds of miniature perceptual escapes,
the culmination of moths around the light
of the existing moment;
wrought in carrousel indictments,
suspended voice and hermit name –
like a dog,
in the senseless procedure
of understanding
the cause and reason of events,
have I been freed
from the road of collision
with the master plan of chance?

I stay longer
in the night brimming
with fizzling astral loathsomeness
my hand in the pocket
and the wretched expanse
as a dark expression of
mystery.

Nihilistic Poetry Blog

Costa … orilla …. litoral


Costa
orilla
litoral
trazado en mi angustia
con aguas de cielo
apaciguando la roca
de mi tristeza –

costa
orilla
litoral
atravesando la idea
de mi existencia
con aguas de salubre soledad
reventando contra la roca
de mi propia imposibilidad

costa
orilla
litoral
forma de culebra
en la arena de mi iglesia
con aguas de semillas
sembradas en la roca
de mi dios artificial

costa
orilla
litoral
colocado como una verdad
en la cruz de mi pensamiento
con sus aguas de ave
en el vuelo de la roca
que golpea mi corazón
como una profecía
de ensueño

costa
orilla
litoral
de mar rojo acostado en el
sentido de mi piel
con aguas de azul parpadeo
apretando la blanca roca
de mi negro ser.

soldier of ruin

soldier_of_ruin_nihilistic_poetry-1

The sadness of the suit –
hung

the window shop
like a memory
carrying the scent
of an effete cosmos,
the wrinkles engraved
as snakes on a dead desert
of polyester,
the trapezoids existing
shadows in the skin
of the pattern,
and the sadness of the suit
saturated with the rust
of a regret, the shoes
of temple sacrifice-
the suit gray and occidental
ail and sober
standing brave
as the soldier of ruin.

Nihilistic Poetry Blog

of riddles

Hunger of blue void
the mirror of the sky
like a desk where I write
the big numbers of silence –
light blue song I imagine
traveling the fields of
my childhood, was
there a wrong window
in the house, an opposite
shadow to the sun?
Hunger blue beginning.
I’m ready to wrap the folds
of the blue world around me
and sleep, like an inebriated god,
through the eternities and the distances
of the missing answer.

Nihilistic Poetry