eternal

an experience

That I must use language
to describe an unusual event
which was anything but words
makes my task already
futile
but I will communicate
the strange braid of emotion, perception and thought
that made that moment possible
as I was standing
at the end of a sidewalk
a piece of, what it seemed like,
a poster
was stuck to the ground
and an outreaching extremity
hanged over the miniature precipice
between the sidewalk and the gutter
this limb of paper
this appendix of matter
fluttered in the wind
and I felt as if standing above
a slice of eternal existence
flapping under my very feet
a small, oblique, strand of whatever
moving in sequences
that would make
me believe
in
beauty.

 

nihilistic poetry

the future of a vibration

Twilight Church Dome

kneel and pray
humanity
sit in lotus
on the highways
fill the fields with prostrated bodies
till perception becomes only vibration
cease action
we’ll go extinct
but in exchange
we would have the supreme reality, bliss, timelessness –
these no longer words
but palpable facts,
enough calm to abolish the despair
of another millennium
of 20th centuries;
decay in silence
till there is a pure core of beauty
the entire cosmos
as the tingling of an approaching
eternal orgasm


21st century poetry

the iceman cometh

We all sat,
staring more to the left
than to the right
our heads slowly drooping
approaching the table
that’ll serve as a pillow
tonight… but then
someone gets up
amongst our snarls and grumble
stands on a chair
grandstand before him
and words somewhat
resembling these: 

 

I’d clothed myself
in all these dirty rags of dreams
I needed them
to protect myself
from the bitterness outside
the hostile quake of accidents
and frostbitten emptiness
just like you
– all of you!
we’re drowning in our illusions
like a matchstick
burning itself
slowly becoming blur and flakes
until one day
truth unattainable
we disappear – like
a wisp of nothingness
in the incommensurability
of the eternal midnight.

 

Someone threw an empty bottle
at him
knocked him out dead
and we resumed our rest
alongside decadent dreams.

contemporary poetry

superhero stuff

drunk superhero

I wasn’t going to give up
I stood up
probably looking like a fool
two steps back
and then a great leap
alighting on the nearest
caprice
that would fling me forward
in speeds unknown to men
far beyond the perimeter
of predictability
in amazement I was already
roaming the streets
the night crackling like firewood
in the midst of an entire
careless crowd
blind with mad desire
running through
the streets
and the smells
the drool
the sweat
I could taste everything
nothing could stop me
like a superhero of despair
that would not
give up
relentlessly swerving
through the eternal succession
of labyrinthine alleyways
I ran
ran
and ran
laughing
like a fool
because I would never
give up.

nihilistic poetry

Tinges of blue

 

 

I left the office shy of two o’clock

gaining inside a shudder that could reach

just beyond the boundary of solitude.

              I raised this old neck of mine

                           the sky was me.

Belonging to dreams we no longer dare to glimpse

               futures too powerful too bear

fears that out of plain habit

covered me like husks of wisdom.

So eternally blue – with the intensity of an S

similar to the smell of dawn, depths of now

                                      bright as selflessness

        blue as sky.

A kind of rejoicing, a mystic’s forgotten book

                                       and the glory of erased words!

TO return, live a thousand sleeps

                       one more lonely death

varying degrees of godless hours

                                  those dissipated moments

hungry of freedom, so easily obscured.

               Bury me in lands of mute plants.

Blind pasts, unimportant futures.

                 The sky was me, I turned

I had gone away… hands overflowing possibility.

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