While away

While away
the fear of the day
deep the anger lies
in a tiresome jail
keep fear at bay
it's our beast to tame
day by day learn to hold it
while it squints and tremble
like a little hamster slipping
through your fingers
stroke it, stroke the fear
let it breathe, let it peek
hold it.

What remains

I'm fed up:
Numberless notions of perfect and right,
explosive shells that enter your brain
and bild up palaces high
palaces full of lies, that maim
your soul
and mess up your mind.
Conformity, standards, average pain!
Blame you, society
XXI Century,
people all!
You, who preach flawless rules while you carve holes in the hearts!
Cause different and strange
are not cute words, are not nice ways,
are not a tolerable exception!
They are enraged beings of light
in a pool of darkness
full of trouble and lost in their fight against everything!
Cause everything they see and hear
makes them a bit more wrong
a bit more shame adds to the weight
of their cloak, heavy on their shoulders.
And when a crack breaks and light comes
a gentle light, a love unexpected as much as craved,
when love comes
it faces the waste you've all done!
And if it finds a way,
it's only by shredding your lies and mending what remains.

All the things you are

I'm on edge
I'm away -
hear the sound of the waves
hear the sound of the earth
hear the clock and his breath
I'm my smile in his face
I'm aware of the pace
in the rhytm of the ace
I'm revolving and still
in a cloud soft and firm
it's a thrill
he's a will
and a bet and unspeakable truth
he's a wild dream of new
lands on a mad route
so neat and so rough
it tears the cloth of your mask
away
and sets the sun
and makes a way
and fills the sound of the void, awake.

Overripe

There's a long-due conversation
that I still don't wanna face
cause it's got a mask of iron
and blood dripples from beneath.
Words are dead-ends
looks are bare
but what I fear the most
is the naked true aware:
sleep is sweet and fair
reality a spiky snare.
I want no pain
I yearn no panic
the thoughts afloat smell overripe:
why should I put them through my mouth
and bear their hype?

River

If you just could, river, wash away all my fears
And leave only the quiet knowledge that
Good things are here
Wholes are one
And no one else's truth I need to hear,
But mine.
No mines in the field left behind
My feets touch your silver beard.

Rhyming Slang

I need some dove
on a velvet glove
but I'm used to a
swear and cuss
riding on glass.
Just a bull and cow
parting with a bow:
no flick and flex
my mind's a complex,
I opt for lyrics and time
in a dinky dine.

Full moon

There's never time
to stare out of the window
and see nothing but you
and your touch and your new way of looking
always different always right;

Never time
to catch rain falling
and do nothing but wait
till time comes and cathes ourselves
facing each other and the unknown
rippling, grooving, uncoiling
inside of us
while we do our best to ignore it.

We need time
to imprison our wants and spill them
onto the mown lawn
beneath the midnight's full moon
of an august wake.

Curve away

My fear of being
being late
has gone around and caught a trail:
dimensions where I dub along
the tap of feet running from
myself, and I know it's me
not from the horsetail
nor from the beat
but from the fear of those feet
touching the heat.

Silence

In the dustiest reaches
of a random mind
where order's soverreign
blinks in the torchlight
you're reflected from every
corner
and bent mirrors
bear your imperfections
promoted to superior beauty
and your smile and your sad eyes
sad, and terrible in their wonderfulness
don't need sound
don't need words.

Not-knowing

The eternal balance
falters and sways
when at stake something
unknown
moves in the texture
of the day
just out of sight
behind the corner
of the mind
where sound is lost
in worries
and smell
is sought anew.

Be kind

Choices, always choices
always comma 22
me and you
And me being the one
who cannot choose
and you being the two
I can't refuse
I mean I can
of course I can
choose
But the point concerns
coming to terms
with choice itself in its silly dress
or maybe choosing
between friends to be,
to fight for,
and time among friends
a cozy lore
No, it's more then this,
or less...
Less would be music,
and music at best,
more would be gender,
aye, no tender
way of hiding behind
someone else's mind
because human truly means
dealing with time
So sleep on it and be kind
with yourself

Full sails

I'm on the carousel
with horses whining:
my daily apocalypse
spins me around;
cornered by milestones
I try to reason
with beasts unruly,
love life and profit.
Their fangs are sharp, their rule rip-roaring
I bite and snarl:
why does nobody see my toil?
Why don't they understand?

They just pretend
that life's a simple line
when truth speaks in high tones
of rebel ropes and rusty nails,
tearing at the full sails!
Tearing at the full sails!

Out - glissando

This time
time is me
and together we can play
fair and square.
No savoir faire,
just plain facts
and nachts
spell will be lost
among the burning balls of gas.

Beyond my reach
it won't touch me
and carve my soul
into a plot hole.

If you knew me
if you loved me
one bit
you would know
not to do
this to me
this shit
of saying thank you
listing stuff
a bunch of commas
in the past
before goodbye
before the end
before betraying your friend.

Μαγεία

I believe in magic in this world.
It's the scent of coffee
leading back to your grandpa's;
it's the violins' stroke
behind a rhytm you know.
It's the book brought to you
by your little cousin
spontaneously;
the unexpected ring of the bell
vanguard of friends.

Beyond repair

What can you do
With a thing beyond repair?
Mend it stroke it
Break it again.
Throw it away
Giving up giving in
Because you never destroy something
- you just change the brim.

2am prayer

Too late
foul play
bugbear's out to get me.
Is there
some way
to outlast the game?

I'm an everlasting prey.

Go

Mistakes
are bricks that casuality hands you
to pave your way to lands
unknown
glittering in your mind's eye
like half buried treasures
never meant to be
according to the depths of your coffee
this morning
-- witness others' pavements in progress
but proceed on a simple route
because it's gonna wind up of its own
over the gap.

Behind someone's eyes

"There's nothing wrong with obsession."
"Objection, my Lady!"
"Conceded, Conscience."
"You see, the point is, it sticks to the brain and never lets go--"
"Objection, your Highness."
"Conceded, Inspectress."
"It's harmless, it's dull, it's naught but a presence in sleep that fades as soon as you rise."
"But dreams, my Lady! Aren't they just the mirror of soul after all?"
"Conceded, Conscience."
"Outrageous, as usual. Your shares on the matter are patches in the hand of a fool!"
"Conceded, Inspectress."
"I say," said Conscience, "it's time to release such beasts long imprisoned behind someone's eyes."
"I say," said Inspectress, "it's time to accept someone's bad side and desires, so dark and so fierce."
"I say," said the Lady, "I'll leave you at that, retire to my garden, behold a cuckoo and stare into the blue."

Catch 22

You cannot sleep
Life is hard on the inside
Nerveracks oppose wisdom
Nowledge is the wrong Classic
to leaf through
out of time.

Bonnett 15

Shall I compare thee to a winter's night?
Thou art more spiteful and more freezing.
Rough winds do shake the bulging balls of hay,
And winter's lease hath all too long a date.
Sometime too cold the eye of Faerie shines,
And often is her pale complexion dimmed,
And every fault from fault some time declines,
By chance or logic's changing course untrimmed;
But thy eternal rind shall not grow stale
Nor lose possession of that glare thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade
When in eternal scrawls to time thou growst.
So long as men can freak or eyes can flee,
So long lives this, and this gives pain to me.

Blood

I wish the birds would choke
And the cars all stop
And the streets would coil
And the trees fall
And the flowers burn
I wish my tears turned to blood
And stained the sea
Till nothing is left of me
Nothing.

Geradeaus

A-dying in here a bit every time
between devoirs and rhymes
I find pleasance in bittersweet sounds
but the best part in me demands to release the bounds
Last evening is already last
my promise is still such,
suggestions keep splashing my will
mining the strongholds uphill
...I follow the route, suit,
escaping the catch of the flute.

Strike, wind

I'm on a strike
to put me right
but all I do for now
is to shut others out,
so I don't have to sound great
when I'm a living hate.
Days are dragging
to sleep weird conversations
pondering life
I have not said yet
what the truth is like
but I see it coming
as it's always been
tough the walls are so low now
that the breeze comes in
the breeze of terms, the wind of change.

Surrounded

On a hunt
and I'm the prey
pray that I chance upon the magicians' Darkness
and never go away,
safe,
never go away.

Fulfill

I wish I lived by the sea
I wish you were here near me
I wish my father was a musician
I wish my mother was a magician.
I wish I simply just had boobs
to destroy half of my bad moods.
I wish I could sing in public
I wish I joined the republic
I wish my best friend lived next door
not on entirely another moor.
I wish I could dance everyday
I wish I wasn't my own bait.
I wish I didn't hurt myself so much
I wonder how to keep in touch
with dreams and reality, as such
as souls inside you
fighting the confederation through.
I wish I found a way
to keep you close
to make you stay

In an era

Where nobody's ever safe
not a job nor a friend
people are on the loose
your mind is treated
to ever new needs and hopes
poisonous.
Take nothing for granted
and you shall perish
in advance.
Avalance
encapturing your will
in a snowball
always ready to fall.

Tearing camouflage

I should not care
about the noise from the tv
about my parents seeing me
bout you not trying to set me free
bout me striving to be
someone better
someone worth
someone else.
I ache all over
like a monster inside a human suit
left to wonder alone
since the beginning
how to preserve the camouflage
when love wants to destroy you
and your thoughts and your faith.
Occasions have turned now into rhymes
without a purpose
a curse
spreading from your eyes
and your attire.
Can love break through walls
and retain some semblance of joy afterwards?

A recipe

Choice with time and memory: a recipe.

Take an empty bowl of will
take a struggle and some guilt
add a tasty resolution
spill some watery expectations
peel a grudge and cut in half
mix it all, beat it up
don't forget a bit of courage
sprinkle over rebel grains.

Make it simmer
make it stiffen
make sure they forget it all.
Strike the clock, then, ring the bell!
It is ready! It is swell!
Wake them up,
harass them
take in moans and cries and damns,
choice's waiting to exact
what they promised in the pact
in times of war
in hours black
when they could not find the track
to bliss and luck.

Make the best of a single slice
it may scald
but it's alright.

Evermore

If you but knew
all the things I have gone through
all the dreams I crashed into
all the days I spent in blue

you wouldn't give a fuck
so let's give up the attack
shelter stuff and pack it up
come back towards the gap
and step again into the map.

All, all alone, alone on a wide, wide see (of troubles)

All things considered
I want a quiet life
my ego applies for a palace high
my nerves need rest
l'enfer c'est toutjours les autres.

We're all the same in the end
at the core
but the Flying Ace says
What has the stomach to fear?
It's inside, out of gear.

Strand

Mind has always come first
in my own buried kingdom
now the body's striking back
it demands consideration
now showcasing all the charts
pointing down to shame and dignity;
if only I remembered those moon runes
about an equal share of skin
blood and bones
about an infinite range of shapes
like our voices sound
I'd feel less wronged
l'd remember those past pains
I'd see clearly where I stand
shivering drenched
to the soul
burning the core
no more, no more.

Evenly

I've grown up too much
that my roots are withered
and my heart is scared.
I'm fixed in ticks
I can't let go
can't accept
if I do, it's to scorn.
I'm left to beg
pray that someone may see
take a long look at me
while I smile uneasily
spot the stain above my soul
-it's just coffee, really, but it's old-
and whipe it clean
with some harsh words
a slap and a mean
promise to lower my self esteem
and be by my side
till the sunrise
or beyond.

To do To-day

I know what to do today
I'll have toast for brunch
a nice pepper soup for slunch
and some madeleines at brinner.
I know what to do today
get some things done
loath somebody
love someone.
I know what to do today
kill the dream's fog
slave to life
and tell at least a lie.

Hamster's wheel

A friend, a girl and her hamster
all sit around, on the kitchen floor.
The hamster's wheel goes on, spinning
the girl's mind keeps chasing itself
the friend's silence embraces the room.

"Why can't I speak?" the girl asks herself
the friend's glance cuts through
and the hamster's wheel goes on spinning.

"Why can't I ever tell the truth?"
The friend's heavy breath doesn't lie
and the hamster's wheel goes on spinning.

"I shall not tell you, I fear" sighs the girl,
the hamster's wheel keeps turning
and the friend's lips utter "Why?"

"My mind will kill me, my eyes will burn,
my heart will skip and my legs will fail me, that's why".
The friend's head nods and then shakes
the hamster's wheel keeps turning away.

Money

A curse
bestowed upon rebel children of age
renewed at the entrance to parties
mocks you when you fall very close to it
but not close enough
because even a cent can wretch you
and you don't get to decide the price
you trust the market, ignore it in the best of cases
but of your trust it does not care
no special offers are ever conjured up at the moment
what you're left with is a sigh, always the same, always new:
bend your head,
caw.

The doctor and being

Jekyll and Hyde
is not a choice between good and evil
that would be easy
that is no riddle
No
it's between struggle and freedom
heavy awareness and light carelessness
a whole divided and a twitchy unicum
between acceptance and desire.

There's a crossroads
at every turn
but somewhere the waters are deeper
and darker.
It's what you don't know yet
that makes you choose,
that makes you fall.

Although the bus

Hours stolen to time
make you grumpy
make you kind.
The bus is an excuse to do nothing
to listen to music
to just think
just brood
just be.
Almost like the movies
you get to observe people
to stare
at them sleeping
to curse them talking
to be people among them.
Night has fallen
there's no light available
above you to read.
You fall into the pit of your thoughts
and you curl into the journey.

Dreams

Dreams are a labyrinth
of hopes and desire
amix corners of terror
and dead ends of pain.
You can lose yourself
you wish the aisle never stopped
you wish to prolongue
a cherry of pure happiness
atop a hill of shame.
Don't wake me up
cause here is my land
where it all comes true
where I can touch you
but if you do
make it be you
and no-one else
not the day nor the parent nor a clock
cause when a dream breaks
anything can hatch:
please, gently pull it apart and make it true.

Filth

Displeasing as it may be
it comes after faith
and the Indians know it
cause a bright kitchen and a rotting soul
is what I'm used to
but filth is easier to come to terms to
when it's outside
and just a side effect.

Time-in

A countdown

to suspance

and a cop who forgets

but there may be some truth

in a poor script

and a fancy view:

we got nothing on our arm

no flash lighting the pool,

we got time

and we can sleep in

while the sun rises,

we can stretch hope

and delay happiness

we can linger

because we think it best

or the only chance we got

until we're ready

until the moment comes

until some fates collide...

Until time shows up

and we may cry

but know it's on us,

everything's waiting for us

in the short run.

Circle

Empty means
full of things you don't understand
understanding requires
vital energy
that night gives
and day takes away.
The more you talk the more you drown
the more you see the more you want
to nausea
or never enough.
We are the perfect circle.

Bracelet

A lonesome band
pictured of Brazil
laying amidst dirt
in a scruffy bus
just a place ahead of
the nice architect,
while I'm thinking rain
broken screens and gluten free
and the expert of instantaneous
weights
waits
to talk nothings
to the class at large.

Having a ball

Fate is having a fit
beyond sight
a snigger escapes its drooling mouth
such a laugh he's having
such a good time
cause he's been trying hard on me
and every time, he has its way
cause my hands are tied
and its are a free blur.
It's inevitable
it shows itself again
always the same
no other pact is contemplated
there's one way to get on the path
one way only
and I never was free
I never felt free
so let's turn the world around.

Lost umbrella

I've lost my first umbrella,
officially, today.
The blue one just got stolen
outside the local library
another one was maimed
a pearl of umbrellas,
still outside the local library
really, that place's a dump
concerning umbrellas' freaks.
But today was on sight
almost deliberate
almost liberating:
its rain coat had slipped some time ago
and now the staff has given me
the slip.
I went back to look for it
a frantic half a minute
but time had passed
people had moved
and buses had changed.
Red umbrella,
I tried my best with you.
Go in peace.
May you serve well your next suitor
if they're worth it.

Stuck

Between an age I don't remember any more
Santa's land of pure love
and the reign of grown-ups
the ones who forget
the ones with knowledge above joy
and commitment above knowledge.
"You must remember"
says the pilot while the prince's away;
my determination to shut my eyes will carry me
somewhere, I bet
living is easy with eyes closed
but I keep closing mine because
I dread to forget.
Forgetting is giving up
surrendering to life;
never ready for such a feat
and yet it is the natural beat.
Blessed the ones who forget and still remember
when time has come.

Less lk now, more lk never

Nights spent with Muse lyrics at my feet
humming wishes under my breath
with a silver tongue.
Summers, an alien atop my own terrace
peering out incomprehensively
staring at a gliding world.
Now and always I am lost
inside the maze:
the goblins king awaits.

Years, defined inside a form
a way of reasoning
a scorn
and the Great man keeps saying
We cannot solve problems
using the same kind of thinking
but I'm deaf to good counsels
and mean to stark sense.

Thirteen hour's almost over
but I never had a brother
always wanted to, perhaps
all we look for in a soul
is a way to feel safe, they say
protection from trouble and pain
a harbour, a gate
open to eventualities and change
hinges accustomed to insane
thoughts and rain
pouring down from above, above,
where I advert my eyes
because nights are hard to sleep
life is hard to live
and goblins' kings hard to please.

Time will tell

Goodbye may be sometimes
the only way
but round the corner
where hoarfrost glisten
you loose the way
three out of four.

Any other way is good enough
cause going back is dying
in agony
but hoarfrost glisten:
the mark is left
inside the bones.

No more trust
no more idyllic vision
of friends enjoying company
cause hoarfrost glisten;
you let it shine
and just move on.

The path and the cliff

All my life I've been trotting
trotting down a meadow path
skipping rocks and picking flowers
glancing left towards the mountains.
All my life I've know besides me
there's a steep cliff going nowhere
on the right, three steps away
catching up at the horizon.
Confronting it must I, eventually
the cliff is in my heart
hidden under many a laughter
gloomy days
and rotting buds.