Unworthy cycle

In this blooming society I like to scatter grains of dust

Leaving behind a trail of black matter

I do forget why we’re here

Or I never knew.

Encrypted in labels

Our lives

Connected with cables

And wireless emotions

Which fade in time.

Weak signals

Transmissions lost

Blame falls on the unworthy technician.

Distorted distances leave spaces for shame and guilt

A lack of harmony

A non-linear truth

Can one escape

This dull ceremony ?

You dig?

Snow my friends is as pure as a monkey’s ass, it’s a cheap coat for which no mayor pays but uses to dress up the city for the night. Of course, sometimes he gets a fright because the soft white coat could be too long for the small’s town streets. What he does with his wife, none of my business but I do care when I get my Cat’s all messed up with snow and mud and trip on daily routes filled with avoidance. Open talks shared between empty glasses it’s what I need and don’t get. You dig? Understand the misery of a broken man, of that guy that hates the guts of his fellow humans just because they exist and sometimes they score higher. It’s in our nature to hate. Although, one can argue that “hate” is a strong word. Is it now? Or it’s just a mental image that you associate with the negative aspects of your miserable life. Your drunken dad that beat the shit out you as a child, developed your need to hate “hate” but deep inside you still keep it alive. There are moments in your everyday life when you brag about how you spread love and “hate” is dead and gone from your emphatic soul. That’s a load of crap gently outlined by your free spirit. Your free spirit developed by so much experience. Flash news hate exists ‘because love exists. Therefore you have it in you. How long can you keep it there, locked in a basement along with some other oppressed feelings, waiting to emerge in delicate moments. ‘Cause this is social suicide. Even though your opinion is build in a different way. All of what you’ve created will vanish when your love will be defeated by your demons. They’ll come around in organized groups and hit you in your smiling face. This will be the moment when you collapse under a greater empire than love. All of what was hidden will float like crap on water. Then you can’t swim in safe waters anymore. You crazy motherfucker! While not realizing you just committed social suicide, denial is a tool used by your kind.

What I’m saying is that snow covers your town and in your smallness you jump and shout on unsteady beats. Let your anger out, hit busses with snowballs, eat some ice, cool yourself bathing in fjord or just admit that sometimes you hate. At least I do! Snow in small towns is filling the streets with clowns. Makes me sick! You dig?

blackened perceptions

hard to cope with all of you, hard to spit your face

although you failed to embrace a peaceful way of being.

my battered soul hides somewhere in a shattered time, overseas and edgeless peaks

reckless actions, assumed all sins as my own.

I take the blame and hide you from the critics’ eyes.

homegrown depressions packed for long journeys

tangled emotions, I can’t forget.

a need to destroy this Berlin wall, urges my spirit

to start a 90’s revolution and expose all truth for those

compromises I have accepted in virtue of peace, love and empathy

no more anonymous calls from a blue  phone booth

I’ll take actions against your wrongdoings

soon, very soon I will cut the spider’s web

and pee delicately on your distorted faces

while some will stare thwarted at what could have been ,

some will look through watery eyelids

and leave without hatred

for they will understand this troubled man.

I roam around reality

…and after all, why should we dream in this dreamless world?

White walls wait in vain a paintbrush, a hand with sand,

shattered glass canned in bodies, familiar faces hold deep scars past recognition

in faded paintings of the past, kept for unknown reasons in lugubrious feelings

and it all comes down to this. I light my spirit with a handmade satisfaction,

I rub my brain off on sleepless nights with friends like Johnny and Jack,

I lack the sense of now and here when sharp shards of the past sting my flesh,

and blood  gushes to my brain with floods of ruined houses.

Days pass like whores I never paid,

towers I never knew how to climb,

 lips I never knew how to approach and it seems time skips over credits

and my present needs certain edits. Naked stories dash in from spread shaved legs, sweet sweat and honey drop nipples, Anaïs Mountains explored in hot summer nights, a rush of adrenaline

and then it all stops. I wake up in solitude.

No drama here, no love, no desire, no pain and everything

melts in a green pot.

Old and dusty memories mixed with dreams and hopes until the mirage transgresses pushing my reality towards a floating state. I try to stand against the wall; I fall on the ceiling from where I see me on the coach. I am a miller of emotions and experiences, a jack on the road,

a philosophical monkey in a human body. I kill my hopes with useless dreams for that I call it off,

I run away from these false prophecies,

 I hide myself in realities embrace

…and after all, why should we dream in this dreamless world?

meters

He counts days, he counts hours, he pays to stay; he pays to obey a mouth, that controls the answers to this artificial happiness

created to guide the bewildered masses

into a self destruction; a filtered mankind

of impurities associated with poverty;

a sickness enforced by the leaders.

He counts days, he counts hours for he has to pay for the winners.