true history

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 

in your hands

Decadent poetry

the machines  +
    he echoes 

and to live
     dangerously
with this slow beard
amidst hallucinations of normality

the decadence of my
      Nietzschean years
no role model:
      Kurt is long gone
dead by angst
           we still live on 

the poet of opium
    in a brothel
licking her sweetness
beauty the contradiction
   of his verse 

the poet needs his decadence
     refutal of his commitment
the lie
        the mistake
               the disaster
mistrust of the divine
          impotence of sublimity

my life is decay
       in your hands.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

drunk of us

drunk admiral bridge

Too many steps too drunk
an outsider
infatuated
with the outside decadence
a 30-day-old poet
taming his extinction
grasping for existence
breathing the sidewalks
as an addiction
calling street life
the pulp of everything
right here
civilization as a theory
the grid of rebellion
on this Rorschach
while the chanting epochs
intoxicate us
with their
darkness
in the streets
in the steps
of drunken
us.

Nihilistic poetry