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Monday, May 28, 2018
ENIGMA ,Mea Culpa
too tired..:-)
and sleeping tablets speak against this possibility
Mozart , Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550 [complete]
so much much better than my shit poem a few minutes ago...
waking up..awakening...good day to me
Labels:
K. 550,
Mozart,
Symphony No. 40 in G minor
positions
had all of them, positions,
just cannot bend my bones
nor my heart, but a fuck
in the head is painful
i had it, o holiness, love,
my third eye got
all blurred, i tell you,
deliciously perverted,
a torture turning
desire to headache,
the body dangling
from a noble soul
a brainwash for
kisses, orgasms
shredded for dogs,
embrace for sadness
had all of them, positions,
attitudes, pains and kicks,
went for a bath, for fresh air,
finally found: no.
and found yes.
no to mind fucks,
yes to me
and to this day.
no more prisons,
no traps, just my
normal fucking days,
to eat, to shit, to sleep.
well, maybe i should write like Bukowski?
no. i won't imitate.
just sometimes..i write bad poems ....
should be silent. better.
just cannot bend my bones
nor my heart, but a fuck
in the head is painful
i had it, o holiness, love,
my third eye got
all blurred, i tell you,
deliciously perverted,
a torture turning
desire to headache,
the body dangling
from a noble soul
a brainwash for
kisses, orgasms
shredded for dogs,
embrace for sadness
had all of them, positions,
attitudes, pains and kicks,
went for a bath, for fresh air,
finally found: no.
and found yes.
no to mind fucks,
yes to me
and to this day.
no more prisons,
no traps, just my
normal fucking days,
to eat, to shit, to sleep.
well, maybe i should write like Bukowski?
no. i won't imitate.
just sometimes..i write bad poems ....
should be silent. better.
Billy Joel , Honesty (Official Video)
honesty is what i need,
but not only ugly little truths and half truths,
honesty means you must be honest with you too ,
open to me.
liquid night
white flowers shining
with the full moon,
liquid light,
a lonely frog.
fire fell from the sky,
the milk turned sour,
maybe i heard a baby cry,
now all is still.
first food, then morals,
was Brecht so right?
i only know:
this is night.
nothing to expect,
nothing to explain,
i go to sleep
like a soldier
as if there was
no tomorrow and
only the scent
of flowers was true
with the full moon,
liquid light,
a lonely frog.
fire fell from the sky,
the milk turned sour,
maybe i heard a baby cry,
now all is still.
first food, then morals,
was Brecht so right?
i only know:
this is night.
nothing to expect,
nothing to explain,
i go to sleep
like a soldier
as if there was
no tomorrow and
only the scent
of flowers was true
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