Tag Archives: Life

A metric analysis of impossible rhymes…

Flaming sword Eugène_Ferdinand_Victor_Delacroix

Life’s like a lobotomised impression
inside a golden skull;
too cheap to bury,
too expensive to keep.
A Stradivari of motionless complexities,
all sailing south, monstrosities,
as forbidden banners of condemned rebellions…
Tied to the mast of someone else’s travels,
on sleepless waves of no more dreams to catch,
blinded lighthouses
towering over shipwrecked carcasses
still flickering inside
the cheapest postcard of a better world,
conscripts of chemical genocides
fought over ivory ashes
of forbidden rattles
echoing impractical Edens.

The flaming sword is still there,
a metric analysis,
of impossible times…

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To my autistic diary…

Autismawareness

When its motion stopped,
I realised that my circle of life
became an insignificant spot,
desperate, frightened, alone,
like a tired fire juggler
abandoned by an audience
too dull to notice
the beauty of the single detail
constructing their illusion…

“How odd” he said,
“In vitro, every now and then
becomes a schism
embedded deep between
what’s left, and yet to be…”

Streets become discontinued cobbles,
trees become ungerminated seeds,
all birds remain abandoned egg shells,
and every life’s a single heart’s
unfinished tapestry of beats…

Agnosis…

Greek_atheos

It’s not important to remember days, and wonder
why has our time become so slow;
it doesn’t matter anymore if there’s no thunder,
after the rain, before the bow…

It matters not why in our backyard’s desert,
there are no camels and the Bedouins have left;
what truly matters is a sense of water,
illusion wildly clenching to my chest…

Tired, alone and ravaged by disasters,
battled by winds having no taste of sea,
sold by myself to unforgiving masters,
too thin to die, too obvious to see…

In no-man’s land they’re selling cheap allotments,
graveyards to be, or not to be;
some weird biochemical arrangements,
for my abandoned christmas tree…

Defiant hopelessness…

Never Forget Never Forgive

Nobody’s making attempts anymore
to stir a peace of roses.
Individual daffodils and bunches of sage
challenge shields of rage
hidden under profaned altars
of compromised innocence;
piled mountains of drowned chariots
awaiting another exodus to chase…

I nearly fell for you Delilah,
but I am blind you see,
incapable of discerning
between a hairdresser and barbers.

Nights of shattered crystals
call for vengeance,
and Picasso crying
shards of broken Guernicas
over forgotten mind fields…

It’s always midnight
on the side of treason;
either too early,
or too late
to find another door…

Don’t ever leave your clothes outside
when told to take a shower…

Ribbons, blue…

800px-Abstract_blue_background7

So many times,
the roads to downtown nowhere
collide at each and every corner,
with blue,
ribbon-like rivers of solitude;
statements of facts about
state of the art,
lost or found pieces
of a hard won peace
of mindless thought lives.
 

Ta-ra-ra-bum-tara,
ta-ra-ra bum-tara…
 

Marching bands of nonsense,
we are.
Each and every one of us,
god-likes…

Ecce homo…

HolocaustChild

Trespassers,
that’s what we are
on god’s minefields… 

The Shape of my Heart…

1024px-Gafas,_Auschwitz_Museum,_Polonia

The shape of my heart
is blue…
Odd frame of mothers,
and fathers passing by;
never failing to re-write
the history of cubic thoughts…
 
Shifting patterns
of lensless glasses
always a year behind
the real need of eyes…