Category: Cântec

When the boogeyman comes, he whispers: “Drink this for it is my body”

This state is my favorite enemy-
Where was the law
when it was raping me?
All alone, in an empty room
with the rouge on my cheeks and
my lips on its dick;
all confused?

This state is of substance abuse.
The milkman told me
“Drink or you’ll get bruised”
and I listened
as a good kid I am.
So, I pray for no more pain-
Yet, today, I live in shame!

In duality
I’m a monkey
holding its liturgy
for a God to stop the mud
from burying me!
I’m a soul remembering
how the Devil’s boiling me-
in virgin blood,
alive in this pot
as I blow its whistle-
“So good!” It feels hot…

Now’s too late to stop the missile
as society
penetrates in me
the man soon to be;
a tragedy.

Burn burn
burn burn
burn burn
in purgatory.

Born born
born born
born born
in purgatory.

This is not a social manifesto!
This is war;
endless fight between a child and an illusion.
Presto!
More, daddy, more-
Need no conclusion…
Feed me,
choke me
with your eight limbs, two heads-
Through sin, carve in me that one dream.

Shock me, daddy;
so deep
’till you split
my mind and body
Aaaah!
Now, choke us with longing
to grow back into one…
No need for prolonging
the burst of the sun.

We sit in our knees, Father.
Forgive us?
Please, torturer,
set us free?!
God, where do we sit?
Is there a chair, somewhere?
Where do we fit?
This suit we wear
tires us, Father
Please, set us free.

Too late to stop the missile
as we blow the whistle
of society
which penetrates
the men to be;
a tragedy.

Desperation-
will to live;
Conservation
of the notion;
Light, no light…
Consciousness-
perceived holiness.

Causalistic mind
of the dualistic kind-
my own mortality.

Birth,
Death,
Hopelessness,

Acceptance.

Consciousness-
momentary eternal-,
from beyond the veil
you reflect through me.
To be or not to be?
Doubt-
transient return.

Dualistic mind
of the causalistic kind-
my own mortality.

Birth,
Death,
Forgiveness,

Liberate!

Set sail
to beyond the veil.
The eternal return
home
where I was born.

I’ve found the suit to wear;
the one I’ve rejected for so long.
Now, I am prepared
to move along.

I’ve heard the song dormant within,
dimly pulsing whispers behind the ear;
a sound so kin,
so dear.

With pathos and filled with cause
I commandeer my reference point.
I am emptied of the sin for keeping it on pause-
I slow down my breath and reload.

Bathed in the golden rays
A gentle touch by the divine hand
Was lost long time in this endless maze
But woke up under a silver gaze.

Hazy view laid down beneath my light
Pushing down every seed of life
Glued the doors, nailed the windows
No gestures to perturb the vows.

Taught to die, a declarant of futility
Resided by guilt and weak personality
Let nails grow and cleaved the lie
Splintered the roots and darken the skies.

Sprinting horses dying of thirst
All have disappeared when one’s sun has burst
Without water, hay or sight
Ideas die and this view’s just right.

A macabre decor fitting a medieval scene
With decaying Kings and Queens and blades so thin
To reach between castle stones
Momentary disappointment of the lone.

A tear trickles whispers on the scorched tree-
“Remember to forgive.”

All the gazes
infer the impassive expression;
placid face standing mendacious
gating with discretion-
“Maybe there’s nothing
Maybe there’s too much pain”

For a second,
cease to accept
what’s been seen and lived-
behind blue eyes, uncover the chaos within
and distrust the sight;

The journey ill begins
in a fall-
Down is found at the end of the rabbit hole.

Hear steps on dusted grounds-
What has been found
were-“just dusty grounds”

Whence emptiness mimicry
diluted in sadness;
a face gone blank starring into nothingness-
“Blind stare
granting wishes
receive us inside
deep inside the heart, the mind, receive this being!”

Feel this air;
ghosting breeze of the mundane,
a caress through hair
entranced by a calmness passing pain.

Hail this day,
breathe in the dust of its gem,
lay on autumn’s bay
with rays of light knocking on the dam.

Dream the night
with a fading moon to tame
to shine on its light-
Mother’s voice calling her children’s names.

Fear the dawn,
absent eyes delve in absence…
We’re given on a loan-
Innocence to life to darkness.

Did you ever woke up with the feeling that you died,
that the shock was so deep
your mind revived in a new timeline
as if life went through until you fell asleep?

Wet eyes of a dying world
pouring down on a restless soul…
You bear down the good of your intentions
“Kneel before my lecture!
Beg for forgiveness, for sympathy!”

Don’t be mad, don’t be mean
It’s not like you’ve never been;
first – torturer,
now – murderer
of me,
but I’m alright-
The way it feels extinguishes my heart.

If you ever woke up,
what would your color be?
Is it death, a seventh emotion
or pure erosion for all entities?
Don’t let the voices whisper
“You’re useless”.

You were infused with lust,
you can’t stomp on your senses;
act and react –
Every scene occurs in a theater,
on a spinning tongue;
a time that’s been given
to experience the gears inside this clock.

In a constant swing,
on a sine
embrace the motion,
don’t put up a fight.
Hands on the paddle,
flow through time,
guide your intentions
on just and right
premises
for a constructive behavior,
to be in sync,
for ripples to bounce back
and ease the inevitable impact.

If you ever woke up,
what would your color be?
If you ever woke up
in the middle of the dream?
If you ever woke up
and death was a seventh emotion?
If you ever woke up
under pure erosion?
If you ever woke up
while dying,
while they were carving
all the things which were never seen?

The wet eyes of a dying world
were pouring down on a restless soul…
“They are carving in me
all the things I’ve never seen-
The present was meant to be,
but the future has never been
ahead with the sacrifice,
ahead with this lie,
ahead and synchronized,
ahead with life;
I had a life
I had a lie
I had a life”
I had a lie.

In the mid winter
When the cold whispers
Decaying flesh splintered
Become one-
The I.

Virtuous amendments
Taunts the rotten
To unite.

With feral desire
The beheading of hydras
Resurrects the beast
Eight limbs, two heads
One dream.

The endless bleeds
rivers to inhume us
Carnage proliferates
and waits-

The golden mean-
Combustion
Cold, order, calmness
Peace.

The rivers that stream
the stars that lit
the darkness that kept
this drum at rest.

The skies that switched
from dusk to dawn
the flowers that grew
from underneath cold grounds.

You are the dreams,
the free falling in bed,
you are all these;
a heart I kept fed.

With avulsion in silence,
breathless you wed
the rivers that stream
towards a dried watershed.

For the words I have said
for when I haven’t spoken
for now I regret
we’re lovers in different beds.

I stole a pen
I gave a knife
I wrote a poem
I took a life.

I carved her chest
I lit a paper
I built a box
I kept her safer.

I stained my words
I spilled her blood
I gave it meaning
I took her heart.

I had a title
I sewed her in
I made it rhyme
I cried within.

I built my words
I scarred her skin
I felt them heavy
I dyed her with ink.

I opened the crate
I ended my ode
I laid next to her
I got all I sought-

Ink and blood!
Ink and blood!
The ballad of the pen;
the ballad of the knife.

It’s not late,
we should not be sleeping,
the sky’s still ablaze
by billions of stars, flickering.

There’s still time to breathe,
to lit the candle-
The journey ill begins
for us to dandle.

It’s not far,
we should keep on dreaming-
The earth’s a jar
filled with stars, dimming.

This is our omen
for us to sheathe all our problems,
it’s the atonement
to wreathe our bodies with blossoms.