How do you sleep at night knowing it’s a lie?
alley cats are blue but her eyes are green with glue
born red she’s turned black, a hooker for the screen
one, two, three… rising stars never got you very far
the music on vinyl made her swing, made her thrill
she came dressed in leafs like the late autumn bliss
yet she does nothing of the things she speaks…
One taste,
one step,
doors locked, lights off…
turn off the beast!
I took it in my hand
the whirlwind dance of sin;
open up
perform
cloths fall when you fly high…
Lips are acid
sweat is sugar,
baby is staying young
the darkness is my cougar –
push hard
pull close,
candlelight too bright
love’s on a leash,
kneel and kiss
don’t yell to break the spell,
sink to the bottom
drink once more,
cold water
fresh beer
hot honey,
I put heart not money…
This is a song for the 30th of July when the sun is up and it’s quite warm outside,
a metaphor for an indie rock band that I love,
pepper and spice on the mundane
I write words between commas for a dear friend,
he left for the west for a county where lives one of his mates
and people don’t stare
and deputy chiefs don’t care
when he rests his arms around his neck with a bit of neglect…
It’s a revolution,
his mind gave up unattended convulsions
and now he is gay in various ways
with the corners of his mouth up to the ears
we can all see his teeth holding his heart
while he’s racing on the Rainbow Road in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe…
I did not see it coming but was not a surprise
the pink cotton candy beard has been there all along
it always sang on a tune of it’s own
and the green paint in his hair,
all the small things, strokes and cuddles
and the cosplay in the pub where he’d always be Zelda,
it made us all think he was eccentric…
It’s a song for the 30th of July when the sun is up and we’re lacking direction
he’s left and we need inspiration
someone to recite the poems he used to,
talks about social mechanics and quantic design
we’ll never approach without a mind as his own,
it’s a song for more than a friend
a brother in arms
who’s finally found his very own arms…
I took a pill,
swallowed it down,
made my head feel small
and made my arms fall,
it turned my body still
and my thoughts unreal
and slowly disappear…
I took a bite
from the real medicine
it took me by surprise,
the smoke was heavy
my lungs went limp
the eyes are shut
how could you see?
you’re a ghost
don’t dance with me
don’t walk with me
don’t talk to me
do whatever ghosts do…
I took a pill
it wouldn’t kill
I’m still here,
refound my check
I need the money bad
to pour once more
blue blood into my veins,
to fake the days
to scorn my ways…
I took a pill from many
and sucked the life in me
it succumbs my will,
broken with a sparkle
building up some friends,
I loose the time
I misplace ideas,
put it back inside,
on the hard track of my mind…
I took a pill
to betray my will
to rise once more,
to tear apart control
to let it go…
Haide să iubim un copac împreună,
cu brațele-i crengi și ochii muguri de lună,
și-n trupul de scoarță cu mâinile goale
să-i curgem izvoare și un cântec de seară…
Haide în codrul uitat de întrebare
să căutăm adâncuri ce n-au ceas ori vară,
să sorbim dintr-ânsul sevă neîncepută,
cu dragostea curată și frunte luminată
Do I live in the world or does the world resides inside me,
flickers of joy,
questions and figments of times I have lived are passing me by,
memories of reading a book on the shore,
the drugs that I had in the dark,
the face that could light up any spark,
one, two, the past is visiting me
let it forever be,
my eyes still seek the end and the eternity
for what I have seen I can not forget,
don’t pour sugar on my dreams
don’t put salt on my wings,
I am an Icarus that fell somehow
that sow its wings and took the long way to the sun;
Bless me father for I have sinned,
in my shadow I shall find the resolution
can you see beyond?
can you smell the speed of sound with your hands frozen,
love is in the heart of Eve
and I am here where I am not,
no ring shall fall as there is no hand
slow the pace,
I long for days to clear the yesterday
far and far away…
Hello Ziggy my old friend
habits catch with me again,
we have seen the stars in motion with a dead friend long ago,
winter passes and I can not recall that cold,
yet tonight I am far away from Ground Control…
One…
two…
time is sleeping though,
love is passing by,
as I boil the coffee beans she tells me what she means
no books, no words, no signs to read,
only naked lips on the descending hills…
three…
four..
what in the world I am waiting for?
Uncle Tom I am not coming home…
Ziggy brother I am lost
the course I plotted turned out wrong
and it’s a one way only road
the engine’s hit and gas is low,
and when I took a look below I’ve seen the Black Star on the go…
Drink with me,
let us share that bottle I have kept from ’85
for tonight I’m loosing temper
and the day that comes forever is a stranger in blue jeans,
no one knows the chords it plays
or the hour when the alarm clock starts to ring and never stops;
Ziggy dearest I am waving
and the mirror mask is smiling,
giants float above the square and give away the key
five…
six…
I haven’t seen you in 154 weeks,
your voice, your arms, your sex
I can’t even tell the color of your face
black or white or were you green and you came down from between the stars?
seven…
eight…
and it’s getting so late…
one slippery moment too late,
Ziggy love I do believe we are really dead.
Is it me or is it Alice,
when I cut the rope it starts raining,
hands be moving and two penny rolling down the page to thirty,
show me mercy…
show me kindness
I am hiding in the laughing, smiling faces to the floor
and the days are getting shorter and the nights are getting old,
fancy ice-cream on the highway, chocolate in the heart of storm
it’s a name my lips be spelling as a fan of Rolling Stones,
like a hopper in the grass
like a monster with a dress
they had red wine for a breakfast in the middle of the west…
So is it me, or is it Alice,
days were gone and couldn’t notice
Grandma’ told me to be fair
but the heart of things to come will not take another turn,
fifty steps along the rhyme may not spill the fairy’s tail
nor the pockets full of gold
and the hundred sixty something of the words I could have told;
Alice darling,
are we really getting old?
the story stands, the hippie hands, with tattoos at the ends,
a suburb house with funny trees
two kids and a dog called Steve and a cat we gave no name…
Is it me or is it Alice,
that we want to start anew
getting young is not for lonesome but for all the very few,
killing me and killing you
giving birth to someone new….
Morning comes fast anew with no sun and stone hearted chilly winds,
and terrible sounds one can hear of a machine meant to induce fear
turn my gears and start to tear, growing up a need to smash,
and the shower filled with mice might be kinky and kind of nice,
the dark pea soup wrongfully called coffee mingles with a slice of bread,
I mirror-met the guy my girl called Ted, very much a bear looking for it’s cave,
and I’ll turn thirty in two weeks and all I need is to break bricks
and hopefully I’ll blow candle that my life is up to handle…
I went viral days ago so tonight it is turning hot like the furs in Camelot
and the tree cut in half hails the ghost of an Irish teller passing-by,
“Will you bring me cotton candy?” asked the lost boy
“Will you paint my leafs in gold?” asked the same girl,
running with a naked feet, the cement doesn’t change the face
and steps I take towards the fountain are never to remember
only wind and rain and holes once upon a November…
I fell deep into the horse’s fountain and got yellow stains on fingers and small clothes of elvish green,
it’s time to run again in fields of thoughts that gather up like white clouds only to dismantle,
cars and trains and motors can’t sustain my thirst of wonder and only fuel the frequency of dreams,
and 260 miles are never ever far enough to lose myself into that great cold blue…
I squeeze the air and call for wolves to run my sleigh over all these troubled waters that remain untouched,
where do I gather up the wood for fire for the upcoming winter and where will I stop to make a fire?
miles and miles they asked me yesterday to crawl, to forget the ash of letters and the face of ink,
but memories are lighthouse to the sin and innocence may be a foreign traveler never to return,
I will give them something to remember, flash and blood and poetry on stair steps of stone,
and in the size of all things that still matter I will lock it with a question in a prison they’ve not seen,
miles and miles into the great deep blue, where will I gather all that wood and where will I start that fire?
Un Jurnal Neverosimil 