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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • Poetry

    An up-to-date, tumultuous spirit


      
    It could easily have been a holy and inviolable loneliness that accompanies you even beyond the otherworldly grave. It could have been a happy and satisfied holiday in the ruins of days, which does not need to be reciprocated. The answer to flirtatious glances could have been romance, childish playful hesitance. Rather than the public humiliation of crocodile tears, it's more like a baby shower, a gentle teasing. It could have been thirst-quenching longing kisses in the pitch-black, when everything else is sleeping in silence, a secret, fearfully guarded angel caress between tender, fading petals.

    It could have been a decent, simple real family and a home where it is always good to return to, to find an understanding and caring shelter. It could have been a superstitious twist, in which body to body through chemistry and desires leads to the united Allness of souls. It could have been a defenseless, flickering, tiny flame or a fiery eruption...

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    HISTORY INDIGO

     

    Unfortunately, anything is possible at the moment in the deliberate confusion of perceptions; no one thinks freely anymore, but it is not necessary to stick to the camp of the brainwashed with blind loyalty and obstinacy. Tomorrows, hungover, aching from dream-promising sermons, because - for some reason - that has become a separate thing, and where there is merit and glory, it is not at all certain that it is effective and rewarding for little people. Horse lemons - it's true - don't fall from the sky yet, but people involuntarily get their shoes dirty first, and later - if you're not careful - your soul can be manipulated.

    "Some" would cling to a few thinly cut straws with squealing methods from Alamus, even to the nauseating taste of the bitter vodka tonic cocktail. Why and for whom would one hope for independent will as a predator, a double-cased, pot-bellied Döbrögik's miniature copy?! Dreams anyway? , anyway, they ...

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    POET’S PRAYER

    Heaven’s voice above

    Let words inspire

    Never tire

    Expel commitment

    Devoted sentences

    Alpha Faith

    Mind to think

    Feel assured

    Encouragement on all bounds

    Sounds of writing

    Feeling endure

    Write on through the write out

    Confident will

    Believe and shall
    Word heart connected

    Truth through
    Believing in one’s self

    Help not be like everybody else

    Embrace the blessing gift

    Hope with cope thrift

    Guide the Heavenly word mountain

    The climb with excel...

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    COMPASS NEEDLE SPEECH

     

    Is material misery or the recipe for disorganized survival more important?! In some poor and stubborn state of mind, self-doubt is a complete cancer. Because the final building block of Being can only remain the wounded Soul; what is inside, and is less and less visible with exhibitionist eyes. In the molehills of the questions and answers, the conscious desire to shape up is always hidden behind the scenes, then the honey-glazed enticing speech.

    It is almost impossible to navigate among cruel stereotypes, and yet it is legal. The beauty industry trust emits gamma rays from a tanning bed, and while mall cats are tearing each other's hair out to see who will be the next winner of another deadly boring beauty pageant, real intelligence, common sense, and the chain of connections infused with logic, like a house of cards, are collapsing with rapid efficiency. spreading nonsense. - The active ingredient of optimism - fearful - works only in the layers abov...

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    Who stares in front of you


      
    With a beneficial effort, more and more people are now smiling and grinning. Because everyone - back then - consoled themselves with the sight of a knife, or waved their hands, fought with deed and anger, sooner or later the tormented fear will devour everyone! The terrifying ecstasy of the stealthy night descends voluntarily on the heart, if it is honest. The accelerated decay of the personality occurs sooner in the presence of brainwashed idiots.

    They can hardly leave the wandering souls alone to unite with the mass of the planet. The automatism of an over-regulated perception of life nips candlelit, romantic love in the bud, or the instinctual harmony that flirts with Everything. Roaming on the surface of time-axes, neither the friendly Sisyphus nor the conquering Don Juan gets stuck in recurring dream situations, and instead of vision, the stories of characteristic or typical events split and emerge from the workshops of our minds that want ...

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    WITH STRIGULATED EMOTIONS

     

    As an insignificant speck of dust, we are drawn into the annihilating, Executioner's Time, whose physical manifestation we can only know. The minutes would cling to the cohesion of the organs, tissues and molecules with web-strings - it's true - even abundantly and persistently, saying; if the blood vessels carrying oxygen reach their destination, the atria of the secret chambers of the heart, existence does not seem so impossible, so complicated. The binoculars or the exploration of the spiritual paths are in vain: those who could only have been a prisoner inside, thrive outside with ever more adversity.

    Yorick, a swinging fool, who caresses the mortal skull one last time, until he realizes that he has no speaking tongue left to utter the words. Infinite and yet Finite in Man's insignificance, he can also feel himself; a table party of five ladies, banal childhood killer jokes, while one party - usually - the more vulnerable one in each case i...

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    FACE TO FACE WITH OUR DECLINED YEARS

     

    I deliberately remained a child-adult. Perhaps no one can tame the inner hurricanes of my soul. The totally superficial Reality scares me and rather consciously repels me; in the mirror of human faces, a telling, concentrated mass of mud sinks and swims, because - in many cases - the conscious difference that can be thought about is rarely seen anymore. The invisible, seeping fake-lie culminates. The chains of imprisonment of Jelen, Jöv? reach even into my being. An endlessly moving, silent caravan trudges through my molecular cells, and I can't know what the other side of passing away might be like?!

    - The woundedness, the defenseless awareness that you. we were born alone and we will die alone. Everyone who was even more frivolous should think carefully: if you squander your inner star-light with give-and-take, you may be left endlessly empty inside of Gaps, yawning for cheap six-figure sums. And no matter if you have a castle on stilts, a luxur...

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    PATT SITUATIONS

     

    An idyllic vision of an unattainable, apparent, happier Life looms before your eyes; how much more should have been done so that others could see it?! That the person to whom you gave your heart as a gift promised to take care of you while he was going to party bars instead, or his shopping mood took him straight to Váci utca or Andrássy út! - Now more and more howling and howling wolves are following in your footsteps, while fairies and nymph ladies are looking over your Sisyphusian swelling.

    You would follow the false-tin scenery of appearance and Reality, and what would remain: just another resigned rush. With the basic sense of "what if it turns out to be something". It is not easy now, neither the world nor the eternal series of increasingly manipulable, compromised feelings; even the best friends and acquaintances of the past disappear in time, if there is no, and cannot be, someone to hold the hand and encourage No mat...

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    Recognizing moments


      
    As soon as the cursed, obscene tone or flirtatious, sexy movement ends, her cold, petrified footprints ripple - everything ends at once. For a few moments, a month, a bitter year, and then he vibrates restlessly, then he is swept away by illness, biology, persistent Alzheimer's forgetfulness. But its lasting, finished, eternally burning impression remains faithful to me. A single spark, a polished thorn, a secret photograph on the idyllic wall of ages - completely engraved in my ever-moving cells!

    The tangible evidence of the memories that happened remains here. These are the first and last hesitant hesitations, romantic kisses before proposing, secret oaths of the heart, if you love someone forever, the grotesque-grimaced-charming look when the other person wants to mischievously. In every case, he bears the conscious burden of responsibility for choosing a partner by his side. Existence and all its destiny-changing burdens remained, solidi...

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    FRAGMENTS OF SNAILS

     

    Broken hearts wrapped in tinfoil or paper bags, locked behind seven-sealed big gates, when - if possible - roses can grow just like one-by-one blows from the Universe, just like snarling prickly thorns. On the solitude of the thorn-beaten walls, echoing sounds can still be heard if one listens hard enough. Questions and answers - many times - hang just like that, suspended in the existing air, in the crossfire of probing glances, like the bravest tightrope walkers who would force the passing to their knees if they could.

    In the alleyway crust of the Soul, perhaps there always was-is-will be a tiny, sharp stone, which gives birth to spiral restlessness again and again, until one or the other person thinks that it is you. show color. Embittered, hawkish hearts have become so transparent, like sly informers or even betrayers of love. - Like scaly crusts, the petty secrets of a broken life cling to the timeless past. False refractions, or is it just the strait...

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