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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • Poetry

    UNLOCKING TRUST

     

    The One-Somebody might be waiting for you somewhere. Satisfied, happy-sad moments await somewhere. Somewhere - you can know, because you can feel it - a strange-secret cogwheel is turning around your Life; a motionless glass ball in which you are also inside, not just a group of wretched minute-men ready to joke around.

    Somewhere, the music of the squinting raindrops hits between the symmetries of your face, and the sure suspicion, like the heartbeat of a bud, feels the fulfillment of immortal romances in the body of the other. It is true that Time's deluge of executioner-smelling water has often unfairly swept you away and crushed you; in your clumsy, stumbling, hesitant movements, there was always the preordained useless impulse to defend yourself. The sign of Sagittarius is constantly evolving and changing - and yet Fate has never been kind to you.

    It would be nice if someone else would pay attention to your water-sounding taps inside. Be ...

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    LIMITS OF PROPORTIONS


      
    With clenched, abscessed, snarling teeth, like a long-suffering one who settled for life and pain forever, searching for the cognizable puzzle, I am chasing and chasing the hidden riddle every day, moving through infinity. And because the honest, glowing weight of passion binds me and keeps me captive in a curious hunger, I search for the secret spiral lines of the knowable proportion.

    The proportions: the real, the secret, perhaps even invertible, which trembles at me in the inner wildness of the soul, incessantly visible and legible, and flickers there with its midsummer lights behind the solidified forehead of reason; my brain is still slumbering silently in the tunnels of my brain, - but you can always know your mission things if you have to confess! – The melancholic clash of the invisible depths in the open is stretching the limited, half-finished envelopes of my destiny. My transparent, crystal-clear eyes, who look in without sparin...

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    ENTER

    Through the mysterious

    Open doors with no locks nor keys

    Not a place

    Not recognizable

    Not an event

    The Enter is too nowhere

    Far out within

    Once you Enter, there is no way out

    You have arrived

    Can’t get out

    Can’t yell for help, the walls are enforced against sound

    All you can do is move about

    Mind wonders

    Eyes wanders

    Nowhere through never was

    Stumbled on something you never knew

    Your curiosity wants to learn more

    You know no more than you know now

    You entered the portal of nowhere

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    IT IS BASED ON INTERESTS

     

    The longest preparation in a lifetime; clinging to hearts, Who on Earth were you?! Where did you belong? Who helped you? Who raised me from the dust of yellow lands, when did the need call?! I wonder how many true friends you could have left on one hand?!

    Even though they are playing outside - so many devil horns are visible: it's good to see, even if they don't want to; deceit and a hidden bed in which many people lie. Fate designates the paths we must follow, and against which, no matter how much we want, no one can do anything, no one can rebel.

    Rhymes and fist shakers flocked here again. The age of Caesars usurping the throne between sullen faces will last a little longer.

    I'm sorry man - your manipulated face doesn't look warped; a mild insanity burns beneath your deep dark eastern eyes. Your obsession that you can have a pension, insurance, and happy old age can no longer be protected by any amount of money, since ...

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    SHOW ME THE WAY TO THE WIZARD

    Moment leaving OZ

    Ah

    Follow the yellow brick road

    Directions being told

    Walking and walking on caution

    500 Miles to Wizard Castle

    The Directional Arrow is going crazy pointing in all directions of North, South, East and West

    Which way?

    I guess use my own judgement in getting to the Wizard

    I heard the Wizard is mysterious and often gets furious

    I certainly don’t want to be curious

    Then again, it sounds serious

    That Wizard better have respect when I arrive, no jive

    I will not be in for any of his foolishness

    Wisdom, help me out here

    This is all I got to preserver

    Wouldn’t you know it, it is starting to Thunder and the rain is pouring

    I need to get out of the rain

    There’s a tree I can duck in

    I am hungry, and I see an apple and I will pick

    That tree branch stick slapped m...

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    NO NETS, NO ROPES


      
    The filth-waterfalls of obscene, ugly-speech come out of the mouths of girls' cat-wicked-cows after being whipped and then splashed out; cascades of flame-spitting words follow each other, while they themselves laugh a rainbow of sounds and tastes drunk from the cheap promises of success and money. Because all compliments, niceties, and romance have become nothing to be thrown away - and nowadays time is bleeding early in the swamp of difficult, bittersweet weekdays.

    In life, a careerist dream can rarely be trusted again, if even a spark of hope claws at wounds and spits ashes instead of empathy and tolerance. A rough blanket, or just a Canossa mockery, would fit the current existence, which is bleeding from more and more wounds and is always irrelevant.

    Every sly, false movement, fluttering of eyelashes honestly bleeds. Today, no one can rely on himself; he is lured by stupid career dreams and fools his deliberately brainwashed mi...

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    FALLING BEING SEQUENCES

     

    Behind me, the outlines of the beginning Summer are already visible on the emerald-colored trees. I carry in the ancient cave of my breast the ticking minute of the atomic bomb, which may perhaps be equal to the last judgment. The light-germs of visions are fading in me, and I still can hardly understand whether I was a regular passenger-guest passing through this globe, or just a tolerated Stranger?! It is like a map of veins in bodies, and the uncertain Fate, which no one can know, runs through it.

    My life is already empty like a bucket, the thirsty time has come. The law of the world urges him to go far, just like most restless wanderers, who do not yet know where, where - but set off on a long, distant journey alone. How suddenly the terrible loneliness of orphanhood appears in my eyes.

    Being in infinite Time is nothing more than someone who looks up at the sarcastic facts of everyday life. then it falls into the dug cesspools of ravines. I c...

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    BUS THEORY

    The thought of a bus

    The ride and comfort

    The force of exhaust
    Run and chase

    Exhaust blown in your face

    Wheels maneuvering over the open road

    A solid glance of behold

    Journeying transit or motor coach

    You take the vote

    The Driver at the wheel

    Road safety for real

    The Bus Stop

    Destination granted
    If there was no bus, there wouldn’t be movement

    Buses come and go

    That’s the way it is you know

    Buses in vintage saw

    All one can say is galore

    Bus Theory

    The concept is ride

    What travel provides

     

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    UNFULFILLED PHRASES

     

    I will fall into a bottomless abyss into eternal night.I've lived so much to be afraid of... Don't add to my agonizing fears.My heart is pestering lm lying in wait is vulnerability equal to annihilation if the grown-up cannot strike back?! On agonizing nights, even the bravest would make a mockery.I have been deceived a few times in the matter of promises, yet I remain a naive bona fide teenager.

    I know suckers and losers could be better, and that's what I've dedicated my ever-fearful little life to.And what we are forced to do is present and future life. And though the man-animal often betrays himself by pretending, lying, and abusing evil-alato - I cannot put up with just how certain death is.I cry out to the leftover intellect for fool's gold the world cannot be trusted!

    I would like to ask friends to talk about the uncertain fate, if it exists: send some secret, apocryphal sign into my life, which makes the hard, burdensom...

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    A TROUBLED SOUL


      
    Oh, you pitiful, foolish soul! Prodigal, brooding, brooding like a hunted wild animal, you are forced to run away and hide every day. The unspeakable, experiential instinct, brooding telepathy of our words - all those who have long been tired of the incessant babbling, sputtering babbling, senseless failures would be looking for you!

    We would only quench our thirst in your insight into what our innocent being was forced to eat. Interest and treachery hide everything from us now. Like stateless, movable toy dolls, we can only linger in the shadows of uncertain tomorrows. Fearing the rampant evils of the powerful, or the maximum sentence of inhumanity, which the man blinded by his greed would measure out to us, risking our life as a waste in exchange for certain profits.

    Oh soul! Don't leave the errant vacillating and wounded weaklings in our conscience yet - sooner or later the persecutor who attacks the other with hyena claws will ...

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