nihilistic poems

to sit

But to sit
inside to mourn
the faint flame of the tongue
a domain bursting with curl
don’t move these eyes
they soon thunder
behind two happy lips

asleep

to sit uprooted
of her hairs not beatific
by the window
to mourn, winter, the weight
sentenced to be borne
by a few final thoughts
they encircle waves around

minutes

to sit certain
of a scene, dream, or green unhappiness
I could roar like a hallucination
inside the tiny mount of my sleep
but to mourn
in the morning
without a second chance to

kiss

to sit
and the heart
shivers like a wet bird
to mourn
unblinkingly
like twigs of rain
towards soon of old

tomorrow

Nihilistic Poetry

a stroll

brevity of life

I observe man
as an attempt
as pantomime
as desperate confabulation
to be what it knows
it cannot be

a perfectly trimmed
beard
a perfectly shaved
pussy

a chameleon’s last
color to camouflage
its lust
and most importantly,
its fear

I conceive mankind
as if it were the most
embellished monument

and while I walk
under its cool shadow
I reflect:

its brevity compels
me to hate it

its meaninglessness compels
me to love it.

 

 

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

of perception

brown wood floor

The raw brown
of this wood
the brown seed
of the book
the brown organ
of the smoke
I move like yellow
tint of dust
around the room
by balconies of thought
swift tactless morsel
of some body
I came to this room
I saw the wood
I conquered none
and half a pulse
traverses
without a crown
of ideas
without laurel
or course
I feel the brown
seeping into
whatever the room hides
I concentrate movement
towards a loud buzz
I call this circumstance home
and beyond it
an abyss
without a window.

Poetry 2012

How would any sensitive soul react to this Fate?

I could
have      loved
the fire
and hummingbird
little winters
stacked and trembling

my hand
wild and rodent
treading the
earth

but looks like
young time
nothing is nothing

my prayer being
when death comes:

may this consciousness
be that of a stone
stripped of its rock

NIHILISTIC POETRY BLOG

g’night

I will sleep tonight
cargoless
adding only to my lightness
the thickening trickle of a trance

to behold the failing world
cradled by darkness

such is my noiseless faith

to whom belongs today
when it is already recollection

the eyes drown in intimate vastness
the ears dip into soft limbo

the earth and its history
recede and disappear
as does the voice
that defined them.

 

 

 

21st Century Poetry

hues of time

I remember

the night

I left the cold earth

hum and smoke

leaving the table

I recall

drunk yellow mirror

clean as a koan

in the midnight laughter

after a few exhausting sighs

I remember

being of wood stone and remnant

colliding with the sounds

in flight with the seagulls –

the coitus of light

and erect darkness

water essences

splashing in metallic

eruptions of silence

and life below as weed

flourishing in the gravel,

a small pocket of existence

green, trammeled within

a nook of hallucinated earth;

the wind comes along

to stroke our hairs

I remember

the lazy morning light

stretching on the ground

sleeping next to our shadows

in a way

so real

that I dipped my hand

between the furrows of noon

releasing the song and fury

of all ephemeral hues.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

open window

perspired in ripple
dragged by impetus
over vain terrain of event
a paper full of waste
is dropped into water
it lives
determined
burgeoning like a flower
we flush
while the ash still clings
to the fingers
at the light
I stop
feeling the cornucopia of memories
solidifying as crystals in a cave
the petals of sweat
have drowned in a spiral
the longest arch
cuts the sky
from my cigarette a
doddle escapes
to meet the gliding
serpent of the stars.

Modern Poetry

copenhagen

copenhagen poet

Pick up
I an elixir
of a cigarette
Copenhagen
streets

smoke it
sun
against the
music of embroidery
in cement

rare irrational duck
and the plumes of twirling cathedral

bridge
suddenly
the waves
carrying the strokes
of wind abroad

the architecture of mother

a coarse poet
sitting by the canal
inventing a language
for the effluvium

transporting
the hidden howl

in the influence
of my finger
the couple
glided against
the halo

sit
with neck
an aperture
to organs
a glance
of concatenation
the plastic fluttered
inevitably
on the surface
of the sidewalk

a dragon from the mouth
a vowel from the deep

senseless
it falls
liberated

gliding
or dripping
the memory
I allowed
to flourish

like smoke
leaving the
soil of the earth.

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry

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