Lazy flies

It seems to be resignation
in real response.
I am including any sensitive touch,
Each involuntary embrace
and travel of the pressure when too scared.
Behind your back becomes immoral.
Aware of the lazy flies
sip the water we take in the throat,
but then everything disappears and you just
I want to smash everything refuge.
I'm looking forward to any messages
even if their content appears to
be unsatisfactory.
If only I could be a hybrid
Your dreams about women, so

Who can disown themselves now
 

Spread my paints,
that on a scrap of cardboard, which
have been given the most to me.
It will be a good excuse
too long for my scream.
What I cannot give,
exceeds the size,
I can give it.

I am not waiting for you to be thinking

I am looking out of the window

Like a light in the smoky bars, drunken,
that helps out.
Returns sensitivity
shows up in every gesture
before the body becomes too light.

Making a meal of me now
you’re the perfect host.

Mortal Recoil

There is no passing through this
There is no passing through this
there is a seven year old night waiting
while the odds come and stay
as drain seeps out the lava
and bang my doors like a day
a day that is done to death
throbbing in the middle of my palm
I have been caught staring at it
out, out, out are all the lights
out all, in some rain sucking green ground
i don't know the sound
but it flaps its wings through the invisible woe
crawling shapes in my scenic solitude
through solid ebony
above serpents of colored fires
fruit trees yes fruit trees
no flies and no original slaves
i can only afford those stamps now
i write to you, hence
three hours later from where I am
blow the brief candles
its an end to a lot of pain
its an end to a lot more. 

Sink and liquid taps

Never did these pencils go around buying vegetables and lipsticks
red yeah maybe those lonely nights of photographs and whiskey
coloured words and puking a rainbow after drinking brawls

Statesboro

The kids start to fall off the balconies

where the clothes are hung by their neck, shoulders, wrists.

To dry.

washed off the dirt, smoke, sweat and the street food

the kids are stealing

deaths appealing to both eyes and fears

the clothes hung dry honey

make sure the kids don't fly honey.

Fly on the wall

I blink quite often, the day just ends
And the nights rarely begin
The end is somewhere in the beginning
And I know it lies somewhere far ahead
It lies repeatedly and that’s the truth
Maybe I should stop paying my shrink so much

I push open the door quite often

And step out

Tripping on the trash bin outside someone’s door

Twice at a time.

Maybe I should stop the day from dawning on me

On the unmade bed

No pillow just covers

And the undead

chair by the window of honesty

that led

the pane inside the joyful noise

I see you sit there and smoke travels by your earlobe

And you can’t make a difference

between words and nicotine

And I can’t make a difference anyway

I have told you and some more

So many things

So many things

that I probably ruptured myself

and now I miss everyone.

I linger now

amongst the delicious fools,

who run behind marking tags on my words

for there is no language about me

I wouldn’t have known even if there was

Sometimes I talk of shutter speeds

Ecstasy and sometimes wine

I have never been strong

I live with hard traveling

and bad fun

I wear four tattoos

And I sleep with everyone.

I shoot myself quite often

Not like an arrow but a boomerang

I don’t look back at things and wonder

All of this is happening right now

My fingers are asleep and nails, a colour of light black

Even my phone wants me to be sensitive

And the internet wants to verify if I am human

I become aware quite often

Of the nodes in time

in the blackness of my visibility

the words I don’t find synonyms for

something or the other

Of the harmonica in my bag

Of a mouth that hasn’t played it for too long

May be a small rug by the edge

May be a mirror in the water

a dandy opportunity to eavesdrop

on the emptying clay bourbon cup 

some walking backwards

time halt for salt

life just trapped in your tongue

like a word of love seldom spoken

something to warm my shoes

and a hole in the ground.

I am produced

To site a few times that the sky
has refused to turn bluer than I am, its difficult to proceed this way.
For these are those few times
when the pavements
have buried jingles of poverty
and soon today I am to walk them
and then again on crossroads
I haven't seen you for too long
and you know
these pavements have buried our footsteps
along dark morning walks
and the secret glances
with few memories and fewer sounds
that came out
fainter,outstripping and tied
from my window that lived in that wall.

...

Tonight we lie
for tonight is too lovely a night to die
and tonight I can forgive you again
Some words fight
some cry
some just laugh like a watermelon
licking the drooling alphabets
I don't seem to write something new
language has grown quite old
everyday they say
starts a brand new day
and everyday a brand new day dies
listen! for there is no other day
listen for tomorrow is gone
listen for you will have to follow me when I run
for I will run every time the day is done
I have a ship hidden in the forest
it has tattoos disclosing my mime
it has fortune sleeping on it
the moon shines on it all the time
and there is nothing romantic about it
from the creepers
to the branches
and weeping flowers
we shall climb on to it and fly
no need to come closer
no need to find comfort
no need to be wanting a tie
tonight I can forgive you again

for tonight is too lovely a night to die

tonight we just lie

Unsaved

An absurd dream last night
waking up to Camus next to my bed to tell me that
knowing that this obnoxiously determined absent soul
doesn't strive to but will live
walls are filled up to the brim, the roof
illustrations and breath of a missing human life
a brilliantly ridiculous beginning
a flow of solid massive things
time moving in two and fro
so! I am now between yes and no
the empty smell of him billowing in my balcony
I have a shirt of his
I wash it evry day
and I put it to dry in the public
I wonder if the neighbours realise
he doesn't live here anymore.
Dishevelled, falling pieces of puzzle
tremendously bored and marvellous
as the day moved on, closed in
fornicated and read the papers.
Am I asking for too much?
I dnt even remember asking anything.
My short story book by Kafka is missing
Is it with you?
Who is it with?
Who is with me?
Trying to watch a black out on a colour TV
Clearer vision I demand
should I get a set top box?
big brother is watching all of us
does the big brother have an equally big sister?
And what does she do?
Sit behind a curtain in the church and hear confessions?
Or enter a brothel by mistake?
Does she get it everynight from a stark revolutionary man?
Is it a wide open radical thought process?
Children, mothers, preganent men
Red light, green light, make up your mind!
This is not original
its just usual
an integral part of my grown up life
like owning a car or falling in love
or wanting to live in images and not arguments.

Pain killer

Hell-oh! everybody
Gaaah you are here!
To the poor! Big and small
since there is a lack of funds
we present to you
Death by a hairball
All fucking good is leaving my soul
pain giving birth to painful creations
broken filling, mental drilling
Oh curse the bane, of survival pain
I'd be killing, if you are willing
to cease refrain of molar's pain
lemme drown you
lemme drown you
lemme drown you in purple rain
damn you motherfucker purple pain!
I took the pill, and downed with swill
pain's vacation, pure elation
pain is like a child you said
one day will grow up and do something for you
to feed, till the last drop I'd milk out my chest
and then it will grow up and stare at my breast
Ah! Lovely!
We must be aware
Of the Culture Of Murder
It’s been building for years
we must know the facts
you right there are an ass
In an empty office a lone monitor stands
I'd work on the key board with scissorhands
cut! cut! cut! cut!
copy you sloppy!
knives out
catch the rot
grind his head
put it in the pot
shove it in your mouth
I only want to see you
see you drown
Oh yeah, drown
You purple pain
In the purple motherfucking rain!

You leave my eyes

Drenched in sweat I don't cry
fearing I would spoil you
to be running around the desert
so dry I would soil you
could you sit there between my eyes
run like a stream of charcoal
till the fire dies
and burns the hole in my soul
you are my special religion

you are my blind faith
is it important to talk to you?
black are grapes
black are the drums
black is the new green
and the bruise on my thumb
There will be no smell
no discoloration
and then you try crawling out of my eye
and you slowly spread your fingers on my cheek
near the nose and across the lips
you flow as the waters leak
waters of the cries
and strange good byes
waters of vein loss and bloodshot hearts
waters cutting old ties
stop peeping through the eyes wide shut
why do u shift when somebody removes you?
you stop my eyes from detecting light
from all that they are supposed to do
covering the stab of my electric impulses.

Idaho

You say the gods are more use to you than fairies
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
birds against the wind
over the river, on the hill
there are three ways in which men take
and she knows a cheap release
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
just as my fingers on these keys
I wonder where you live
will you come tonight
the door keys are under the mat
sitting in my rocker waiting for your tea
who will be naming the wind

the hypocritic days
in the autumn of my winters
green afternoon serene and bright
hazy, blur, falling and loud
if i should go, think only this of me
that I don't wanna know
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
at all little things as little as me

shoebox

There is so much missing right now
the keys to my old room, the burnt frying pan
the ash filled sheets of bed between our legs
the too small a bathroom and the smaller the door
the withered lizards through day and night
sometimes hiding sometimes out there
out here under my favorite blue bulb, red bulb
the uncovered underwears
the moist smell of never washed clothes
and those slip sliding smoke rings
those papers, newspapers, toilet papers
curling, burnt rolling papers
the fear of sitting under the roofs of skyscrapers
now are here with the words
that read themselves over written on
the notes of
groceries
house deposits
bills
time
and poetry.

Niyah!

The taste of dirt so sly

you look in the mirror and wonder why

the same seasons and thundering skies

the muck splattered on my days

You warn me

The mirth in my eyes you can see

And then you let me

Touch you

You were less than a stranger

You left in such hurry

I didn't think to wish you luck

It would be better living backwards

With a bruised memory like mine

I get surprises in the past

Even they wouldn't last

I am guessing

I don't know

I want more when I am denied

Saving...

Live me another day
live me alone
kiss me to hear a good bye
kiss the forehead stone
I am leaving
again
I won't come back
again
I will never see you
again
I might not be you
again
Cross your legs with mine
Stretch your arm
intertwine
Sold your vanity
have you?
It costs you ten coins
I had nine
and I still have those nine
days of heavy rainfall
weeping under my collar
keep sakes
lull lakes
covered in a cold lullaby
Get me ink! Get me ink!
Not a drink lump! Ink!
Running through my spine
twisted barbwire
Stub this cigarette
smoke that dream
sleep a little closer
can u hear me
I am shouting
again
So loud
So faint
again
There is a mistletoe
and a long run
candles on my palm
a little breath left in the rain
and while you stand in front of me
I will never see you
again

Please, I can't find my knees

An itch

woke me up last night

from nothing but a nightmare

to throw me into another one

That itch

ran all over my body

and inside

like a girl without her legs

running into an open field of

of a few more dreams

her dreams

That itch

grew upon me

inside me

light flickers in the opposite room

the ghosts of electricity howling in the lines on her face

like blood let loose

from the chains

from closed chambers

from dried veins

That itch

I dnt know why it came

like a head rush

bragged of its misery

That itch

woke me, shook me

stretched me

wretched me like a calling

this is what salvation will be after a while

That itch

scaled me for forgetting you

muttering small talk to the wall

while I sat on a rug in the hall

haunted me

broke me

crushed me that night

and every time I played a skeleton key

That itch

spoke of a farewell kiss

That itch

that made me , itch...

i can write you that love song

Mystery

mystery

we were never meant to be

then why so i love thee

well i suppose thats the mystery

Different country

U and i have always lived in different country

and i know airline tickets don't

grow on a tree

so what kept us apart is plain for me to see

that much at least is not really a mystery

Estuary

i live on a houseboat on an estuary

which is handy for my work with porn authority

but i know you wud have found it insanitary

insanitary

hated me

i'd be a fool to ignore the possibility

that if actually ever met

u might have taken advantage

and would have lied to me

but still thats not the only problem that i can see

Dead since 1993

U have been dead now for

wait a minute let me see

16 years come next january

as a human being you are history

so why do i still long for you

why is my love so strong for you

why did i write this song for you

well i guess thats just the mystery

mystery

mystery

Epitaph

I can see you clearly, so clearly.
This...you...it's all
I am having a little trouble
controlling this pencil.
It seems to want to keep going on.

Outlines seem normal, but very vivid
everything is changing color.
My hands must follow the bold sweep of the lines.
I feel as if my consciousness is situated in the part of my body that's now active --
my hand, my elbow ... my tongue.

I'm trying another drawing.
The outlines of the model are normal,
but those of my drawing are not.
The outline of my hand is going weird too.
It's not very good drawing, is it?
I give -- I'll try again...

I'll do a drawing in one flourish...
without stopping...
one line, no break!

I am... everything is.. changed.. they are calling
your face...interwoven...who is..
Thanks for the Memory

This will be the best drawing,
like the first one,
only better.
If i am not careful, I'll lose control of my movements, but i won't
because i know. I know.

I can feel your knees again
This is a pretty good drawing --
this pencil is mighty hard to hold.

Are you smoking?
I have nothing to say about this last drawing.
It is bad
uninteresting
I want to go home now...

Dead Loaf

Ah! There she goes
to buy her gold
around the turn
and back and then
again and then again
without a pause
for breath, she ran
to rising noise
its her pills and her frills
of all thoughts mistaken
mirror reflection
but her makes no wonder
cut no slack
on every tack
sped up and back
and spun four times around
the posts and down
again.
No feeling does she feel
she is running on naked heels
running on drenched concrete
with springy poise,
the men behind
like panting boys
a side stitch
like a car alarm
the ice falls out of her glass
whispering in the dead piper's ear
running to a place not so near
silent bare
ships
towers
domes
theatres
temples
and then her speaking falls
drops of life
hemmed to her skirt
all ironed and dyed
she took a turn
where blacks are beaten
smiled a smile
as shallow as time

Asulon II

When i reached out for that another cigarette i saw ur hand their too with a wound of what I recall the first time u burnt your hand trying to light ur first cigarette. Yes, I have known you for that long.

And then i was in somebody else' car the other day and i saw the kilometers and i realised how many pictures we took of driving together, thousands of kilometers. Yes they were in thousands.

Furious i walked out on my work station and bumped into a wall, I hit my head so hard, i forgot for a second where i was. That second grew into minutes, hours and now into days. And I still don't remember.

Hey i have a tattoo now.. remember how much i cribbed. Heard its raining up there... Aren't we going to throw umbrellas in the sand and run? Hey you still will lose the race..

I have cut my hair... Do u wanna see how i look? Well I am quite alone standing against the wall of your house hiding behind skinny bushes.. Remember how u got pricked the other day?

i am thirsty now.. parched for raindrops on the roof missing on my head.. will this reality remain? in little and at large.. will all my i' always be small... will i live on.. feeling this way.. feeling nothing nemore.. scratching the wall.. writing the same shit over and over again... carrying the baggage of having memories with u.. memories i dnt remember nemore... everytime i am spending another minute to try and run away... i am leaving something behind..

I don't write letters to you anymore.. I don't know your address.. I can't afford to buy those stamps now.. I am dreaming another nightmare... I am not knocking on your door.. its just a few steps away from where i am.. Hey has your hair started to grey a little.. Yes, I was your child

Love when u can't

Hey lover
Come share this wine
Leave your shoes at the window
Remember what my door knob says


Smile again with another swig
We dance on the rainbow
The leaves, the branches the prayer of the twig
Remember what my door knob says

Pinned on the pouring weather
Is a picture of you and me
Drowsy and tangled together
Remember what my door knob says

Newly come from the river
With colours in your eyes of distant life
The impalpable ash on the wrinkled log
Remember what my door knob says

aromas, light, metals, were little boats
when u decide to leave me in the rain
everything carries me to you
when you decide to reach my lips again
just
remember what my door knob says