marți, 4 septembrie 2018

o (dh)armă albă


there is a warm gaping distance between me and what I feel.

no wonder
I got to wonder
whether you're
really
such a wonder.
now,
I wander.

most certainly so,
I am a relativist.
that, of course, is a good thing,
but then again, it's also bad.

an anticipation of an emancipation of the present.
a full night awaiting to be emptied with voids.

sadly, people are white noise that I tune my ears to.

our consciousnesses are animated&contaminated.

-aberații produse în portbagaj, prea târziu să-ți pese, prea devreme să dormi, abundențe de nimicuri.



sâmbătă, 7 aprilie 2018

I have a bunch of reasons, all adding up to nothing

nopțile
  plantele de lângă picioare
  cresc din mine.
diminețile
  mă trezesc extenuat
  dar zâmbesc
zâmbetul
  îmi e o revoltă tristă
  împotriva unor adânci revolte triste
corpul meu e sol ademenitor vânătăilor, cearcănelor și feluritor pofte sisifiene

joi, 8 februarie 2018

fugiti amarati nemilosi in infometarea noastra
stele sub sori, curand vom incepe sa ne rugam
constipat mintal
ganduri pitigaiate de neandertal
cutite tocite
singurele arme albe-mi sunt oasele, impotriva mea.
eu nu-mi sunt pe potriva

miercuri, 24 ianuarie 2018

imi pun frana la emotii               mi se spune
sunt frana                        realizez                              cu intarziere
 undeva e o lume in care tu ai radacini in tine
 the crowd is not impressed
lick your wounds happily but keep sadness at hand|in the freezer icy chicken legs pizzas my anchoring in the present | streams of habits run by you run you down
lungs filling stones eroded to riverbeds
throwing fake punches punching the clock every morning
this is no poetry at all this was chimney lungs
treci pe autopilot si scheme prostesc de grandioase se ridica la suprafata iau fata si apoi iti sar in fata
chances keep squirting out of toothpaste tubes and drop in the sink
this age of abundance welcomes our dance of nothingness
tentative de a de a de altceva
do trust falls with yourself, see what happens

marți, 23 ianuarie 2018

1, calmly demonic clouds turtle across the sky |actually| across my window
oftentimes I am also clouded
the eye of the storm   blind to what is around
2, wonderful cloudy beasts hang in the blue
grazing/feasting lazily

joi, 11 ianuarie 2018

last night bukowski cried me all over
to some i wrote quite drunkenly
to some i wrote fairly soberly drunk
to myself so wasted that i could not write

in the afternoon morning
                       [eyes bulging with drunkenness]
I am washing the paint brush
recollecting arranging and aligning my teeth



miercuri, 10 ianuarie 2018

daca esti o fantana
cate monede poti baga in tine pt noroc?
si cat noroi poti curata din tine?
si pana la urma
esti potabil?

marți, 9 ianuarie 2018

one day I will buy myself a vacuum cleaner and perhaps that day my life will be less dusty as well
someday my hair will be the length that I most want
I will buy myself footwear fit for kung fu
one day I will buy myself a water filter and eat more organic produce
someday I will defy my own nonexistent expectations and perhaps that day I will dance naked in the rain
someday my pile of books I don't read will be fitting to the pool of shortcomings in which I dwell knowing terrifyingly and serenely that there is no way        I prefer peacefully chaotic stumbling and limping to well-rehearsed choreography 
by the time I will be able to keep my back straight   my knees will be cut down   by the time I realize my painting style   art will be a bone of the past tattooed on the inside of eyelids   by the time I rejoice in small spaces   time will stop being circular linear   who knows what portrait of equations will appeal        by the time my concerns go to trial  the justice system will be dismissed
I look backwards and wonder how could I have been so foolish as we ask ourselves why people were burned in middle ages
I will look backwards and wonder how could I now have been so foolish as we will ask ourselves why people now have been so eager to connect that they disconnected
the backwards will look forward and wonder how I will become so foolish as our backwards look to our forwards and ask why mindlessly believing in gods turns to mindfully not believing
until we would stop daring to look back/in/for-wards and ask


frostbite me!

luni, 1 ianuarie 2018

    all around me people are talking
                                             talking
                                            getting ready to talk getting ready to see
talking to their sweethearts getting ready to see their sweethearts
I have a bag of rocks I picked up today from an abandoned railway
I see my belly getting chubbier after copious meals and I
am content.
hair is growing coarser on my inner thighs/ I like to see my veins popping up along my arms
revealing maps of kingdoms i am not meant to rule
finding much pleasure in looking at girls in the metro on the street I think of them in terms of futures/maybes/perhap(pinesse)s/
sometimes
a bit sad to see them walk another way.
I am not complete and never will be
my new scarf is girly
my smile feels crooked and somehow the edges of my lips don't seem able to curve upwards
my poetry is descriptive
pointless like sandcastles
I like to drink beer wine or anything else really
I like to write about what I like
I like black and white photos
I like to look at girls
sometimes I like to boogie and my soul is fluffy like black cotton candy
I like to
feel special and admired 
feel special and admired 
feel special and admired 
când existențîți dă palme în față - te bagi puțin câte puțin mai în tine
până ajungi ghemuit într-un colț din călcâi
când părul meu cade - undeva ninge în același ritm
orice desen de pe mine va dispărea
haideți sa ne dezbrăcăm de orice responsabilitate 
și să fim goi
ne va fi rușine?


să știi că
              chiar dacă nu am făcut ce trebuia și
                                                                       nimic nu e cum trebuie sa fie

la orizont atârnă o perdea de liniște

mâinile mele se topesc și curg lin pe genunchi/coapse    /inundându-mă
 tăceți, tăceți!
 vocile si existențele voastre sunt sirene
 mă înecați, dobitocilor


orice vine la tine e ca un vierme și va muri
orice lătrat se vrea uitat
lăturile se dau în lături mai 
înspre mijloc
deasupra se pliază dedesupt
timpul e o funcție a spațiului
we need more time yet you provide more space