Tag Archives: heaven

Gene(me)sis…

image

In the beginning, men watched the horizons,
and ploughed the earth.

And the earth was without form, and scattered with rocks;
and darkness was upon their face, and in their hearts, deep…
And the spirits of men moved upon the heart of the matter,
and men said, “Let there be gods”, and there were gods…
And men believed in their gods, and it felt good:
and the gods shadowed their minds,
and they became dark,
and darker.
And men called the light Grey,
and the darkness they called Nightmare.

And their evenings and their mornings were their resurrections
and graves…

And men said, let there be One,
permanent above our gods,
and let him divide our tribes from others.
And men made One permanent, who divided their tribes into those above
and others.
And it was so.
And men called the permanent’s home Heaven.

And their evenings and their mornings were their resurrections
and graves…

And men said, let the waters from under the Heaven be called Tears,
and let the mothers’ breast milk dry;
and it was so.
And men called their dried breasts Fate,
and the gathering of their tears called them War;
and men felt it was not good…

And men said, “The earth does not anymore, bring forth grass,
and herb yielding seed after its kind,
and the tree yielding fruit whose seed was in itself after its kind…”
And men saw, and it was not good.

And their evenings and their mornings were their resurrections and graves…

And men asked, “why are there lights under the Heaven,
to divide the Grey from the Nightmare?”
and they said, “for signs, and for reasons,
and for days, and tears,
and as lights to give light
upon our fights for the earth…”

And their evenings and their mornings were their resurrections
and graves…

And men saw the waters filled abundantly with the moving creatures that have life,
and fowl that flew above the earth in the open firmament of Heaven,
and the great whales, and every living creature that moves, which filled the waters abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after their kind: and men saw how good it was…
And men coveted them, rubbing their hands and saying,
“Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth.”

And men saw the earth roamed by living creatures after their kind, cattle,
and creeping things, and beast of the earth after their kind: and it was good.
And men started to kill the beast of the earth after their kind, and the cattle after their kind,
and every thing that crept upon the earth after their kind:
and men saw that killing was good.

And men said, “Let us make killing machines in our image, after our likeness:
and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air,
and over the cattle, and over all the earth,
and over every creeping thing that crept upon the earth.”
So men created killing machines in their own image,
in the image of men created they them;
and drought and hail followed…

And men blessed them, and said unto them,
“Be fruitful, and multiply, and impoverish the earth, and subdue it:
and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air,
and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.”

And men said, “Behold, we have burnt away for you every herb bearing seed,
which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree,
in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed;
for you we have done it.”
And from every beast of the earth, and from every fowl of the air,
and from every thing that crept upon the earth, wherein there is life,
men took away every green herb for meat:
and it was so…

And men finally saw every thing that they have made,
and behold,
it was too late.

As their evenings and their mornings
have become their graves…

A(nd) men…

Social poem 1

20130109-233903.jpg
They’re all gone now.
Swallowed down by windy pipes gone by…
Some hairy brushes sinking low below
Those every seconds left untouched.
Where’s time now mum?
Where is it m’am?

So fond of words, so fond…

Label me life; label me as you would label toes…
Dead, cold, as the reminder of an unpaid day to mourn.

See me; sea’n me…
Fortunate as the disaster happening across the street of someone else’s feelings.

When I will swap the day with night’s attire,
And messages will rot in bottled sand;
My love for maximums should set a fire
Even to Scaevola’s one, unburnt hand.

“De Profondis” seems so shallow now
When mankind’s only hope is Ridley Scott’s
Imagination gone to save us please from evil…

Ta ra ra Bum ta ra, ta ra ra Bum ta ra…
‘at’s it milord, ‘at’s it…
Lift ’em skirts to blow’n the wind of Dylan’s fights
with Don Quixote’s every windmill…
Have you seen ’em ma’?
All those how many roads I’ve traveled all to find you…
and all’s alone
so welcome to the great ol’ party of deliverers,
all welcome…
scum.

Have you ever dreamed of flying tied onto a dropping bomb
of sorrows and delusions
never to reach earth
forever falling like pink floyd’s massacre of every folly?
No?
Try this you m**** f*****,
try flying fond of all those every coming days when eyes
are open yet to see another mirror’s scoff:
“You dirty little f****** bastard, you ain’t no wings
you hear me!
You ain’t no wings and ain’t no wings to grow you out of ’em
for(n)ever! Do you hear me?”

“Mother should I run for president?”

I know why I love English: it is the only world where I is never little,
nor ‘t is belittled by and by, by every Little…

Allow me to exist until I don’t deserve to suffer anymore for
who the f***’s sake…
me and my children born to my shame’s utter follow…
arriving every time precisely at the six o’clock’s
of every three and nine’s barking of disgust
for we don’t, you don’t, they don’t
Have.
But daddy, isn’t it there?
And you work!?
It’s true my love but see you, they just suck…

And as a matter of fact,
I remember being told that grand-grandpa left his all
with all his all
never to return
because some Arian f***** rode into his town upon a white horse
and he ain’t really fond of any chopped dick’s spawn…
So grand-grandma went nuts, and auntie was joking
in the camp when someone farted under the common lousy blanket:
“Keep it in, it’s central heating!”
F****** funny that is, f****** funny…
And grandma never gave us yellow lentil soup,
but only mixed with tears…
bloody tears:
“don’t make me cook this love, we ain’t got any other food for years….”

And mum…
She was born where I wouldn’t have allowed here to be,
but no one asked me:
boy I’m getting funny, ain’t I?
It was the end of April First of May you know and war…
Auntie just weaned of the same dry breast to barely need a bra
or any other something like that…
and the f****** Christmas came:
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum wie grün sind deine Blätter…
Wrong side of history grandma…
grandpa left you desolate for another piece of non-kosher pussy…
and only thin baked beans under the tree.

And mum got dad and they got me and bro…

Crazy years they were, I swear to Jodie Foster’s Contact!
Beautiful years of it’ll get better by the day and never…

“I wanna know what love is…”

Isn’t there anything more than just ever-festering regrets of
this is not the f****** train I hoped to have had hopped on…
And this is not the bloody f****** life I’ve spawned my offsprings for…
Because they haven’t signed up for it either…

“Mother do you think they’ll drop the bomb…”

It’s raining.
I guess it’s just the slowly running water from above
Pouring down
To drown
Everyone.

Heaven’s not empty.
It’s just that no one’s there anymore;
but all those molecules of water,
following a never-ending plan
of a never to be found hourglass master
who returns only to turn his sinister
water filled, strangled test tube.

Don’t worry folks,
if you’ve escaped this time,
you’ll drown anyway
at Heaven’s turn…