modern poetry

Supine bewilderment

bedroom shadow poetry


What muscle can I use
to lift despair
despair that’s agape and out of words
hope-coated despair
that keeps us waiting for a train
that was never built;
while the body of the universe
convolutes in acrobats and yogas
I feel like a cramp
at its heel
what is my next move –
let the future be?
but this future
is a dividing wall
between us and our _____
                   (enter your raison d’être here)
I have a sledgehammer
but only atrophied muscles
to do the job.

nihilistic poetry

mental impairment

Dead_Animal_Slaughter

Blood
what is it?
we spill it
in the sea, land, air,
it moves: shoot it/sell it
my eyes
retreat
their swollen veins
as synonym to animals
I feel the guilt
here in cluster city
army by determinism
the sapiens beast
beasts of language
consuming and plunder!
irradiant ecosystems
Judge,
I plead guilty
punishment: stupidity
yes,
bereft of innocence
I walk towards the sea
with suicidal venom
leaving behind
the machinery of pain
I fueled;
for what am I
to say what’s right or
wrong.

the way of the poet

21st Century Poetry

I call this
my turning hour
the imperceptible motion
from a fifty-nine
to a double-zero
I live this instant
in the streets
the cold cave of Europe
here, I wander aimlessly
I wonder incessantly
my stomach is turning too
hungry and drunk
let’s rock and roll
in the zeitgeist
that no history
will ever
record.

 


21st Century Poetry

catharsis begun

Fetus Hand Poetry

The days have expired
if I was once a shadow
now I am smoke
tomorrow?
perhaps the empty pause
between two despairs
the sky is black tar
my distant vault
stained by the vapor
of every perspired minute
I made my hands cups
the recipients of beauty
but it would not rain
clear skies with
excess of stars
dizzied by this overhead
backdrop
I made up posthumous names
for my fetus hands

tomorrow?

a lie
a song
a purposeless
flight.

 


 modern poetry

neon break

Neon Yellow Beer Morning

This wide open
sky
an echoed moon
on barely born hours
my couch
sitting watching
half moon, half
sky
half azure
half self –
light advances
neon
on surfaces
gilded by miracle
this pure instant
when no one
is watching.

at risk

Drunk Nihilistic Poet

I had to be prepared for anything,
I knew well my predicament
of being the embodiment of some rebellion
without a cause, or possibly,
a very vague one,
I was set to play this role
till the curtain of my life
would set and finally be able to rest
from such a demanding performance;
nonetheless, I had to be prepared for anything
this urgency to be sporadic, risky and insane
would take me tonight into another dark alley
another hidden hour in the middle of the night,
wherever I would end, I had to be ready
since I had no choice
but to follow through with the command
of fate,
even while I see the strings over my head
puppeteering me to go here or do that
I cannot resist
for the strength of the strings is greater
than my awareness of them,
so I bid farewell
I leave into the end of the night,
as you could say,
to the disfigured events of nighttime
the ghastly stars
the only witnesses
to my rampant
behavior.

 


contemporary poetry

I must be mad

Everything you do
begins with a silence

you can traverse
the distances
that keep you away
from the divine
but you look back
and the starting point
is blurred
I have been pilgrimage
traveled far,
but
in relation to what?

all is opinion
the poet is a collector
of fragments
the pieces of modernity
scattered mercilessly
over the ruins of decay

the theory emerges
the broken data
a human heart
halfway down the
spear
I threw to infinity

an attempt to coexist
with the rational
and the irrational

landscapes of words
not yet
conceived

I give you the stars
for the constellations
you’ll hang
over the lake
of your
core.

 

 

nihilistic poetry

Prosopopoeia

My creator
has abandoned me
the hands that spun these
verses
are now caressing
night axioms and
mysticisms,
the poet left
me
a poem
sunken
somewhere lost
in the motions
of the automatic world,
I am the victim
a spirit
that occupies briefly
whatever soul
treads these words
but, alas
ultimately doomed
to perish
as your
eyes
approach
my final
sigh.

nihilistic poetry

escapades

Bricks_Berlin_Germany

I sneak out
in the middle of the day
as a fugitive of conformity
I look around
searching for those
that wander solitarily
those poor souls
all alone
against the oppressive machine
of existence
then I separate myself
follow streets no one
follows
I look for long walls
like those of cemeteries
or abandoned factories
I tread their outer boundaries
bricks to infinity
protecting a mystery
that I must never invade
I return to words
the insufficient medium
life has me by my neck,
I am drunk with life
perceptibly drowning
in its fuel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

21st century poetry

 

somewhere in the noise

there is a sound
that covers
less regions of
being
a frail ash
unique as the light
on a speck of illusion
it is the faithful motion
of a fingertip
softly caressing
like a pendulum
the lips of energy
intensely receptive
to every hair
brushing against the onrush
of time –
a pause
awaiting the decisive note
of a cycle
that starts here
and ends
in music.
 
 

(dedicated to Arvo Pärt)

21st Century Poetry