When I awoke today
I looked at my exhausted limbs
and there – THERE was a wave of tremendum
shafts of wild fascination
hanging from every bit of skin
as by whim, as by holy pendulum
I’d like to judge and proclaim
the final voice is nothing but noise
Hidden in a territory that history does not interrupt.
A soft sinuous sense like solitude or silencing.
Oh man, how’ve danced and surrendered,
circling the city as a mote swerving around the shafts
of light in this barren room. Alive and extensions
of some unknown cause. Fluttering like a scream
in the barbarity of ignorance. I am proud, a huge
pound of ignorance. A huge pyramid of bliss.
I was a dream. A mirrored mirage.
But now, full of fascinatum
I have the holy stream of eternity
wasted as a shadow
below my feet.
I’ve spilled the moonshine over my bare breasts
in the agony of madness.
To be absurd from feeling to toe,
I’d punch the snow to disfigure
the torso of beauty
to join the mad soliloquists
the drunks and hopeless angels
with whales swimming in
their eyes of quivers.
Rapidly the curves of snowfall
impact the distant slums and they are
carrying pain too beautiful that we
stare and suffer. I cannot add a because,
a therefore, a necessity.
The event has sweetness
that only forgetfulness with relish.
I am too vague a vacuity too vain a villain,
being an absurd contemplator
the suspense of my erosion
is my only occupation.
and yeah, the feat of beauty on daylight’s squirm.
The face was carved out Of sound and motion Vision was clay of river Through ages and lives His face was the platform Of transforming secret – I was a full body of beer Reeking smell of hallucination The concept of man Was the rustling leaf beyond the window? My friend and I Seeping into the occult layers of perception Like rats of laughter we followed the maze Unabashed by the terrible condition The flaky reality we were inventing At 6am of a holiday retreat As automaton, as passion The nude words of the intoxicated As free bullets Hunting the lie Of the self.
My madness began at seven Beautiful ineluctable madness The sun was over the horizon In wide strokes of light Painting my ribs: the tress The fields were windows Clear lucid germ of becoming My skin was everywhere Like an atmosphere of beams My song was the sadness The pain The burden The guilt In that bath of purity My mouth was full Swelling with The verb of awe
what is it?
we spill it
in the sea, land, air,
it moves: shoot it/sell it
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!
I plead guilty
bereft of innocence
I walk towards the sea
with suicidal venom
the machinery of pain
for what am I
to say what’s right or