gray ground
nestling
the little curvaceous
seeking self
a methodical
appraisal of the
unintelligible
empty fields
arising
an axiomatic love
of chaos
and labyrinth
light never
ages
but its image
traverses time
the tree was spotted
as the period
at the end
of a graceful sentence
that spoke of
a timeless seed
the eyes that were
given to me
eloped with darkness
an affair
of unknown
qualities
and reverberations.
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
Madness is the
irrevocable
like the powerful sun
shining waste
strings that form a braid
braids stitch on us
thirsty loneliness
a mile machines
cannot reach
find me a gulp
of eternity, an inch
of Godhead
I’ll stop the soft drugs
coffee, sugar, TV
if you promise twenty
forty years ahead
I will encounter timelessness
madness is the irrevocable
a table
with all the books of genius
to sleep!
where my wakeful hallucination
finds its soul mate: dreams
madness the
irrevocable
two hours before two
more hours
I shit and eat
and fathom the origins
of the universe
tears come because I am
trapped between
centuries
amongst idiots
reaping nothingness
I cry because
madness consumed
all intelligence and determination –
the endless parade of perception
of one day
exchanged for 24 hours
60 minutes
seconds of oblivion
and eternity
that never kills but
transforms
madness is the
irrevocable
a hopeless trap
within the miracle
Unable to escape this vast dawn
hanging upon me like an atmosphere of chemicals
a mechanical tingling from ages’ past
I’ve collected the motionless quantum of floating seeds
constantly mirroring the pinpoints of valleys
as seen from peaks of departure
I’ve spoken with the dark red shade of tomorrow
perhaps seducing despair to taste my blood
her choice fluttered like a hummingbird’s thought
I’ve fallen in those perimeters of wonder
unfelt timelessness
incapable of resisting the language of rising steam
The old skins of trees invade the territory of sense
while curves vague as clouds
embroil this journey’s end.
Beyond Language 
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