I don’t need your silence
I despise the calm
revolution,
turning on the time
the staircase wakes me up
painting my world upside down
I can feel the sacrifice…
no more leaps on your Church
the steps are marked in ancient blood
the voices crawl within
the heavy doors are thin –
long past midnight
I chose a different path to walk
another God to serve;
from nothingness comes struggle
the debt is payed in sorrow
after darkness follows light
as we forget the saints…
Category Archives: One step closer to the void
Julia
odd key is out of tune
the turning never ends
a big house with big windows and bigger skies still,
the glass is half empty
even half full
and the noise is killing slowly
in your face I see the fall,
where is the beauty ?
where is the pain ?
where is that life
happy,
insane,
they die one after the other
heroes of thy father,
and I lie my ear down on the strings of a sound that never spins…
I am in the wrong,
for how much long ?
out of pity
it grows
it feeds on the sadness
larger than the world that it quotes,
blue tainted hair and blue painted nails,
it scars the skin
it bleeds
and it dreams,
in between hills
where the water spills
the burning has passed with a bottle of gin
and so,
Julia dreams…
Unwanted
I am the
I am the darkness
the might to be
and the state of being I can not control,
a feeling
lost in between times
a single line going straight to you…
you are a friend
but not the one to me
and I scream into the void
I scream my will to exist
free from fear
free from the prison I have accepted in me
I will you to be,
the one
the one that is there waiting for me
a doorway to another existence
another chance to be
free form weight
open to all
gravity pulled
sunward emotion
I need a feeling to transform my devotion,
love me
adoration
I am but a soldier
unwanted commotion,
you love me
the emotion
I am
resolution
darkness
my way is commotion…
The Wave
when music gives no vibe
silence is out of rhyme
listens to no spark
something is broken, is it the heart?
sleep, eat, think
it lasts less than a blink
it writes on a wave
the way home, my last goodbye…
it needs space
a window out of the gray
to float, away
far and straight, shapeless clay
hunger to shine
becoming as unsanctioned rain
the wave away
is in a dream that I’ve lost on the way…
What was not said
Oath in the night that is quest for the silence
not isolation but reigning from afar on one’s expectations,
praise the hours that gave moments to build out of nothing
with recipes written in cold running water,
ode to renouncement when knitting vague feelings
as the cure for the lonely is walking away…
Why stay in a present when so many futures await
but out of deception and fear of the path,
the image itself is prone to corruption
when in the youth air felt heavy and wrinkled,
and for what the force without a place to stand
when one’s mind travel for the story isn’t there…
What was not said is the heart of true meaning
that bland grains can leaven to good fare,
but why ask forgiveness and pursue convenience
when the church is inside and not in the dreaming
and marching dough comes from believing
not in the many gods but in one’s inner singing…
Atomic dreams
…in the water I need wine
pour it red as viscous blood,
pills to swallow for the hollow people,
I am one, too hurt of follow…
my arms are roots that seek salvation
in the cold, the dirt, the mixture
in the mirrors,
how could be an ugly Sun a king forever
in the winter of my mind
frozen are the leafs and frozen all belief
I linger
sculptured in the paintings from another time,
remember
burning in the skin when pressured
and visions of a thousands skies with stars that move so fast together
I have seen, was not alone
a heavy head raining glimpse and thoughts…
driving west to Paris at the wheel of riot hearts
with atomic dreams in black and white
and shadows always close behind,
I struggle…
in the horizon of my founding self I wander as a fallen light
spinning chaos in the deepest dark,
moments to the dawn when the journey did begin…
Life Oddity
I wrote an epistle to Father,
sung my sweetest lullaby
I checked the engine for another thousand times
no thing left to one’s imagination,
life’s a crumble made with salt
spice may never alter paths sculpted on the dunes,
the oasis nowhere to be seen
but in my most futile dream, so far away…
charge your paddles up to fifty-eight
stay clear!
lazy hearts may never feel and walls are going up forever
stairways takes your steps to last and cruel judge,
I held your hands,
I tried to catch the butterfly that went away
and then the stillness comes leaving but the story to be told
and my spirit gets so old,
my heart a stone
gone,
you left me all alone,
only darkness at the dawn….
The Game (II)
Good morning, good night
this is how it passes by, my time,
I am selling stories, sweet little lies alright
it is getting old and easier, I’ve been told,
so I took a white empty card,
wrote down words and question marks
and played poker with the heart…
My house is built on wrong,
the sun eludes the backyard every time
in pitch black night there is no moon,
no windows, only bricks up to the clouds,
the postman never comes
carols are like apples when they fall,
and it’s frozen, raining cold…
Good night, sleep tight my love,
roll down dreams to keep them flowing,
pour it slowly and fill our glasses
naked water for the conscious drowning,
because noses can not smell beauty
hands can not touch without the skin
and eyes, eyes need light to see…
Stone-giant
Sixty steps, the stairway’s broken and you hear the stereo noises
on your knees you heal your bruises
and the raindrops start to roll down the forehead that is cold,
questions looking for their answers in a song that’s pretty dull
where Nottingham has roots in stories so it dreams itself alive
and its paths diverge in alleys that run farther from the Sun…
I have chosen, Ego sum, I was wrong,
perfect sense does not exist in a state of altered mist
it is pressure that transforms dirty coal into cliché shining bliss
– and not a kiss;
his ribs are cut from stone and so are all the looks he’s given
and the devil smiled and put a tingle on your lower Eastern lip…
Nil
There’s no fight, there is no war
we give up and we go home,
we don’t scream, we do not cry
it is so late, why even try?
Dust’s a carpet on the floor
our shoes do walk no more,
and the mirrors won’t reflect
any thought we’ve never had…
Rain’s still filling up our rives
sailing boats down to the sea,
there’s an island without trees
used to shovel up our dreams…
There’s no struggle, no debate
tore down this wall we’ve made,
we do not speak, see to the south
there is light but it’s not ours…