exist for

 the one who seeks happiness will

only find illusions of well

usually painted to feel

a common sense for

being alone.

standing in lines for what is real

in others' perceptions as if

your own exists as an exception

to the common riff.

and if you argue time

laws will oblige

your body to climb

and call off the search

the emphatic industries provide

fresh surrogates because

there is a clause

 behind the laughs and fortune kit

as money pays worldwide

 for one’s life permit.

confusing times

there are signs which reveal in time

and times call for undetermined patience with no great expectations

small steps bogged in society’s sludge

and societies judge the poor and the ill;

regulations sets morality’s fake standards

tangled up in a virtual reality where all can see the social drama

but no one acts.

hymns for lucifers sharply dressed and carrying suitcases,

hunting souls for cash to buy their women dresses;

the all good rulers adored for no reasons and elected every season.

and those signs fail to reveal

in what time?

if the distance is a bottomless hole

where there’s no sound from pouring time

and no profound effect on this strange ground.

nothing counts when time fails to reveal

from where it was dropped

and one’s mind might be stopped

in a rhyme with nature and feel the wind

that blows over the vineyards, a childhood addiction

to white and red grapes, to magical shapes touched by the sun

and fed by the rain

roots spread through the fresh soil and there is no harm

to the soul as long as you plant a tree or more

and stream some magical time

in a conflict free place

in your mind.

dazed

The questions generated by dazed thoughts have no value for all realities. ‘Cause all thoughts generate a self inflicted interview. And you’ll end up hiring different, suspicious personas which will act as you. These questions born from downfalls are useless when asked too late. That desired knowledge must be searched beforehand.  But we are just humans and we don’t know shit. We keep on hiring until when we truly think we found the one that should have got the job all along. For many it could be that the vacancy will remain open to the end. We don’t know shit. There is this powerful sorcerer which acts without our consent.  This guy is closely related to time and uncertainty. Time, time is what we need and we despise so much when the hill is too high. In the beginning, one’s measure is characterized by optimistic presumptions. Up the hill, feet start squealing and time stretches in every muscle and bone, minutes turned in hours.  And the road gets narrower as one tends to the top. Not all plans conclude with the desired situation. Keep on fighting they say, keep on banging your head to the door. No answers. Just these evanescent questions popped in dazed and confused heads, all lead to an unsatisfactory state full of disgust. If there’ll be a place with greenery and pace, a place of tranquility and contentedness, in a short time people will destroy it. We don’t know shit.  

liquid options

heavy clouds over the northern territory

the wind blows empty cans down a stream of pissed drunks

which turns left when the devilish morning light strikes their bloodied eyes

and again one has to climb a pile of bottles

in search for easy fluid options.

bodies anchored in a sole reality

another question flies the basket

Do monkeys stumble on life’s dimensionality?

let’s say the same wind blows

your sanity, no crime;

it’s just the dime one pays for all those

adventurous ways of experiencing with needles in the hay.

a brutal crowd shouts its vanity in the darkened streets

mornings are for peace and sleepless creators

could one survive in one dimension?  

with nothing but the simple acts, scenes of the normal

the lifeless mediocrity of the working man

in vain we plan sustainable developments of our domain

‘cause future kids have a inbred fear of nature

they stand for the new human generation

kill your dimension, kill your future

new paths will unfold and there’ll be no shame

in straying or praying to the green goddess

symbolic structures will serve for guidance

and one will no longer be a novice.

and where are we, when one takes it all back

All those options and all those strings,

It’s you that takes the blame!- the choir shouts in despair!

Down with the agitator clown, your nose is white and your skin is red

You’re on your way around the bend!

all our sins incensed with a smooth flagrance of fear

one must live 7 lives in one year, optimized spaces of truth

drained of lies our heads will grow invisible antennas

and then we’ll see the crossroad in a dead end of

monkey times

The hungry time bites on reality

With angry minutes devouring life

And hour drops of metal hit the ear        

The sound of rolling coins

Melt in the far away

Cigarette smoke makes it clear

And the banjo plays for a blossom May;

The drums announce an ancient rite

There’s no trust among those in the animal kingdom

A troubled life, fear glued to its master

In the northern morning chill when the guitar falls asleep

And the beer is stale, thrown out of the bar

 With the delusion and frustration of the early drunk

Another night, another reality

Swept away by a dizzy time

Induced insanity, called upon humanity

No answer

The sound of seagulls mating on the pier

Images of the past gushed from a fading memory

At last the monkey has collapsed under possibilities

Unexplored roads and bottomless holes

Too many half journeys through the luxuriant jungle
Left alone with one time, one banana tree

The monkey has to adapt to one possibility

Unless Jack and Jim won’t pair up with Hector

And influence the being of a poor primate

Unless the unholy world will unfold again

Creating crossroads of endless options;

Disturbing the animal kingdom

The monkey will try to fly again.