I know the stars are no pretty jewels
they're fire and ashes and storm and roar
but still I wish I could bend nature's rules
to be near them and hug them even more
Most of the time I'm not asking for tools
I love the stars whatever they're for
I'd rather be willingly one of the fools
and while I can't sleep I open my door
© 2011
Thursday, 30. June 2011
While I can't sleep
still dead
(neither voice nor phenomenon)
if you think you could ask me to get you
and the dead of the tongue were alive
if you premise i'd catch on your whole view
you just worship he knowledge you hive
all we do - that's a simple suggestion -
is so meaningless when the time comes
and until then - beyond all digestion -
we'll be ant-like hiving the crumbs
© 2011
please! let's skip this and all this post post structuralism!
if you think you could ask me to get you
and the dead of the tongue were alive
if you premise i'd catch on your whole view
you just worship he knowledge you hive
all we do - that's a simple suggestion -
is so meaningless when the time comes
and until then - beyond all digestion -
we'll be ant-like hiving the crumbs
© 2011
please! let's skip this and all this post post structuralism!
Wednesday, 29. June 2011
like an audition
Tuesday, 28. June 2011
concept livelihood
you see this freeze frame that you built
along those many wasted years
within the silly game of guilt
that you've been playing with your fears
you shake your head in disbelief
for what you thought you were is gone
you are yourself that sneaky thief
that stole the sunlight after dawn
you know you cannot rip no page
from what you call your days and ways
and what you wrote from grip to rage
will count for more than just a phase
so this iconic stained mosaic
you've developed inside out
that some might tick off as archaic
is just a puzzle you tried out
you'll have to live with its impressions
and get along for shorter times
since you'll be losing your aggressions
by committing fewer crimes
© 2011
along those many wasted years
within the silly game of guilt
that you've been playing with your fears
you shake your head in disbelief
for what you thought you were is gone
you are yourself that sneaky thief
that stole the sunlight after dawn
you know you cannot rip no page
from what you call your days and ways
and what you wrote from grip to rage
will count for more than just a phase
so this iconic stained mosaic
you've developed inside out
that some might tick off as archaic
is just a puzzle you tried out
you'll have to live with its impressions
and get along for shorter times
since you'll be losing your aggressions
by committing fewer crimes
© 2011
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