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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • Poetry

    Split in two


      
    The difference is that I don't just know: I also feel that the toilets of public hospitals have been out of toilet paper since time immemorial, and that there is always a need for a Hollywood movie star to buy into the community with good intentions, or to immediately offer his million-dollar honorarium as a self-help quick fix. It is rare, at least, if not unheard of, that even hell can be a more pleasant and comfortable place than the emergency room, where people die every second.

    One thing is certain: the experimental era of foolish, ready-to-do pomposity is long over; why should we need cheap consolation when all cheap, handout promises are grotesque grimaces and pseudo-mirrors. The good, sheep-people will just buy it and believe it, but they must always be shocked by the sad reality; here, lasting progress and change may never come!

    Because it is not possible that asphalted roads are torn up to make them passable, while the ax...

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    Existence of Finches


      
    Human life today is increasingly panic-stricken. It is as if it had been assembled from hurricane elements into a disingenuous, temporary Order, to shape and destroy in a trinity of career-fame-fame-ambition, spinning in circles. The insidious, flirtatious, insidious offers of flirtation hidden behind the cloak of disguised courting intentions are immediately detectable. The bribeable, money-hungry soul has also been transformed into a thin shell of algae in unventilated swamps.

    Wrinkle-free, blinding toothpaste moths willingly want us to believe that there can still be a point to the sweetness of romance. The glamour of a talmudic suspicion superstitions the workaholic slaves' eager wills daily: they have appropriated the exotic spectacle - whenever they wanted to.

    Shrieking stars, watchful rodents mop incessantly, arm-in-arm. Wounds, unhealed tragedies, have recently been inflicted by the persistent exposure of private lives. The...

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    Fire

    I wish home was safe

    But living there was like

    Digging my own grave

    Filled with hate

    That spread like the fire

    That ended it all

    ...

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    Giveaway-simphony


      
    The greedy desire for possession is pushing forward, burrowing with a thousand shadows unceasingly. Home's poisoned form worms its treasured fruits and the calvary of the average consumer man unprotected in his home is embodied in a single blow: it surrounds him, suffocates him, lavishes him with everything until he is suffocating.

    Slowly, nothing can grow without interest, without ulterior motives; food, drink, love, or career - a free-thinking, creative-nature soon grows cold. Where can the saviour-creative mind sneak quietly?! When, to everyone's delight, the scandal reaches unbearable heights, even those who hoped for five minutes of fame are crushed. But you can't trust the occasional mall cat, testosterone-gigolo.

    The world's most influential congregation is breeding signal-bearers like parasitic plants, and there is no longer any reason to try to protect and create the future in other ways - syrupy legitimacy is ...

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    Distance mirror


     
    Surely, halfway into the future, everyone will have at least enough self-loathing to dare to say, to dare to admit the word: "I made a mistake!" - In the trapped webs of silent answers, any number of apologies could have given birth to a healthy tact, and perhaps it would have been easier to stay, if this great deceiver and swindler of loyalty had not been standing guard everywhere on the picket lines. Deceptions, and renewed promises of vows, are again caught in devious minds: while he deceives others, deceives others, and pretends in good faith, without noticing that his vile life is a mere exhibitionist self-deception, splashed with syrupy reality.

    He does not enjoy the shocking moment of unexpected pregnancies one bit, since every minute he can swell to the size of a killer whale and at all costs he radically pursues a body-control diet, since he can see on the faces of his closest relatives the extra kilos he has gained in happiness. Ha...

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    Between Us

    Between Us..

    Between us is a scar
    Emboldened, grave
    Cutting deep into flesh
    Between us is a space
    Empty, with walls
    That echo each time I scream
    Your name


    Between us is time
    Too long, yet not enough
    Cause a million visions of you
    Keeps me awake
    Between us is pain, 
    Joy and laughter
    All in a world we wanted to make

    Between us is a voice
    Still and loud
    To remind me of you
    Between us is a song
    The words often 
    Sung in silence!
    With melodies for the soul

    Between us is memory
    As beautiful and as painful
    As history itself.

    ...

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    At 10' Clock

    At 10 o' clock

     

    At 10 o' clock

    We look at the moon

    At the same time

    We're not saying 

    What we're feeling

    Until we laugh again.

     

    Each passing second,

    The silence 

    Meaning much more

    Than spoken words

    And that smile

    Reassuring "I love you".

     

    Traveling through time,

    Racing against the wind

    Together,

    We fought

    Till our hearts

    Content.

     

    Tears mixed with kisses

    As I say,

    Goodbye

    Leaping through

    Those memories

    I'm glad I met you.

     

    I hope

    When I'm standing

    The storm

    With my own sail

    It only blows me

    Closer to you.




     

    ...

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    What If

    'What If'

     

    I'm afraid whether to insert myself

    Into the timeline of eventuality

    I'm afraid I'll never be able to, 

    Take choices of what ifs and maybe

     

    Life strikes us with decisions

    Leaving us without the benefit of a doubt

    Neither letting us know the outcomes

    But reveling in the what ifs

     

    "Keep trying", they say

    Good will come your way

    But who knows when?

    What if it never comes?

     

    What if the lights aren't green?

    What if the sun doesn't come?

    What if I can't walk that path?

    What if I'm just living in my own dreams

     

    This suppositional question,

    We will see again and again

    But one thing remains

    Hope always keeps us at bay

    ...

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    CAPTAIN POET

    Steering the words through the seas being your only suggestion

    Inspired and at ease

    Take a walk on your deck and take in that breeze

    There will be stormy times

    You will notice the thymes

    You will get a push like a jolt

    It’s your inspiration being felt

    Imaging the sunrise in the distance

    A calm sea of thought being the instance

    You are Captain Poet and let your courage mount

    It will become a word count

    Poetry having its own lighthouse

    The eyes that guide

    The vision of composition in sight provides

    The waves from the many piers

    The encouragement stating have no fear

    Be the Captain Poet in steering your way

    Pursuing your destiny

    The Sunset in knowing you maneuvered

    No one can stop you now

    Being skillful in knowing how

    Anchors away
    Keep your writing engines revered up...

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    Mouldering golden spit


      
    Long-necked, sticky mass-Time's long-born, money-ordered, cobbled-together worldly monster: dark, giddy, panting-like Pegasus birds that carry the manes of foam on themselves. From under the stench of advanced putrefaction ever rises the stench of the ferret-goat. Exotic, feathered, blonde Amazons also began to bounce and then stink. Floating down a river of labyrinths, a career has led to a cheap reputation.

    The dotless Infinity, it is feared, can no longer be contained. Scarce homeliness builds a nest in brainwashed minds. Even pre-playable battles keep receding, instead of always breaking forward. Unleashed malice, jealous envy, prudish vanity: if one stresses too much, the tachycardic heart can explode like a bomb, like a fractured volcanic cone.

    In the cracks of exhibitionist skin, like infected tattoos, the will of greed burns its marks.- With lion's teeth were born in the old days the wicked burglars, who could only purs...

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