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.

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.

some don't like it cold

All thoughts locked in denial

She lives to forget, she lives to learn, she lives in vain

As the bottle is empty one hand grabs the smokes

“Lort” says the drunken Dane and walks across the fjord.

Foggy fears gathered in her homesick soul

In essence, all the senses bored

Misfit feelings drained in her being

Filling the ordinary with hate

Blind eyes can’t see the weight

Of ones decisions.

Angry human sitting on the chair

Life never happens for one that

Only uses air

Once in awhile one needs a chat

With a worthy aftermath.

Dig the system, screw the city!

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?

Hangovers

I defecate my feelings, for my stomach hurts every time I fall in love.

Moments collapse under the weight of demands

A change of style, a change in time, one-night stands.

Skinny hands emerged from empty bottles

Boxing gloves jerking off my thoughts

I spread my ideas all around your beds

Emphasized existence through dandy events.

Cemented hearts, fortified souls

No way in, keep the search alive;

A struggle to puke away into the night

Among choking strangers, a glamorous vibe

A compelling speech I might say

A fear that survives strong winds

A need to run on the wither fields

But emotions brutally slither

Burning my stomach, hit after hit

Until I have to take another shit.