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.

from one to another

invoked the new year from a mountain of months

climbed some high fences and jumped over summer hits

only to find blocked paths and bits of sun on a rainy day.

engaged in this dry run without the real play,

there’s no joy in the backup division of space.

no trace will be left on the nice shinny floor

no more rum, no dust left to ignore, no exit door

just this rotten perception of well in a gray colored shell

which dwell in cotton covered decisions

taken at a high speed rate by inflatable wizards,

no sun will penetrate the darken glow of back alleys

where we hide infants from the great sky

and comfort their desperate cry for wisdom with commercials

and pop sounds popping their ears until tone deafness,

hits one string and lyrics sold word by word on auction!

this beautiful routine full of meaningful events

every year twisted stories whispered in web contents

without a further reading we’ll all end up dead

metamorphosed into a mass of mules

obliged to climb another timemountain

and then another, and then the same

until we reach that freedom fountain

and drown our nameless demon to proclaim

humanity as the new world order!

I find myself lost in dreamy thoughts

Wondering through flat land

Skinned to the bone

My every step disappears in sand

I want to expand but I’m blown out

rolling over potato fields with angry farmers

chasing Indonesian girls wrapped in the national flag.

I don’t know if tomorrow’s dream of a multinational unity

Is for sale in Asia or if I can understand the future plan?

A better place might not exist

The stories of a tripping man may blend better with whiskey on rocks and some good tobacco

While The Sun is sitting on the docks and your eye admires a dancing shadow on the porch  

Near by the sea, where every heart is torched by fire bird armies in a cheap-ass hotel.

Out there it’s said there is a cell where unheard thoughts emerge in freedom cartels

The story pusher tells it so!  Not long ago there was a time when we were zipped, our bodies too

Our flesh was covered in polymers, our mind in images, glued to the brain by Empty TV.

But here on the beach, gathering thoughts, mixing pots, our soul will be bleached

Erased shall be from our life all those fabricated strifes by the man’s employee.

We’ll be surely safe when share a life on earth and not in grave will be tax-free

And rulers of the world united for a game of Monopoly, a killing spree of joy and fulfilment

Of laughs and breakthroughs to the other side.

And naked we will touch the sky and dance over rain and clouds, dance with the gods and dance with the saints, dance with the demons, dance with Pan and Lucifer, dance in the sound, dance all around

‘Cause it will be another Earth spinning like never before, a free-of-time space where all will embrace

A more emphatic approach on us and ours, an opened door that leads to knowledge.

The stories pop out from flower filled balloons and squash the evil minds

Transforming bad into a pillow fight and soldier in pyjamas shooting their water guns;

On the front line, wired rose fences will hide sweaty copulating corpses bombed with pleasure grenades and drips of honey will fall in ones mouth, for that lay back and let the storm blow over the shack.

‘Cause the Sun is not laying on the docks

Now, our world is full of dull flocks

Flying by rules and laws

Nothing flows, border strict

Where is the blues?

Mixed illusions explode leaving scars

And a morbid confusion of well-being

That hurts when peeing

Shipping emotions behind bars

Heads down, while the cold steel licks

The skin and rubs the brain

Everything planned to be plain.

A face without name, a number in the frame.

A place where all the ugly people meet

That’s where I want to drop the beat.

The stories of a rambling man may blend better with whiskey on rocks and some good tobacco.

Humbugs

It all goes and flows

A never-ending metaphor some say

A rush of understanding

That some, just overlook

In a customize society of unnamed products

Just a logo or a slogan

Perceptions of the masses, anyhow

The bored guys drop it hard

‘Cause they wanna be the bard for a damsel in distress

A bunch of poets in disaster, the cold winter’s unknown feelings

Breathing behind your back with a lack of perspective

They wanna live, they say and stray along

on an lonely highway of agonizing whores.

Well, I’m disgusted in a way of vomiting my knowledge and

Adapting my sense to a nonsense of thoughts, brought in front

by human nature

and I will cut in, when I have seen

Too much of these impostors calling out spirituality

Oh come on! Just go away and do not bother

A brother! With all your crap

Gushed from yours mother’s flap

Hectored your way through hearts

And souls

For too long snakes crawled beneath deserted skins

Hissing untrue love under sheets

Unworthy belongings, shapeless forms

Trashed feelings over silent nights

Lies thrown for a fuck, unlucky gals

Fallen for all the wrong bards

Grotesque paintings drawn in tar

Imagine a black star

Indeed I’m awfully disgusted

But I’ll just burn away from all of it

And truly flow to glow in

Images

I can fit.