I need one more day to remember tomorrow, a page underneath old volumes of pain, stolen perhaps from where’s nothing to borrow, oblivious libraries of not much to gain… Pacing intrigued through shelves to nowhere, wars of empires coveting gold, buried beneath my belonging to somewhere, echoes and voices of stories untold… … Continue reading Shelves to nowhere…
Category: Poetry
A metric analysis of impossible rhymes…
Life’s like a lobotomised impression inside a golden skull; too cheap to bury, too expensive to keep. A Stradivari of motionless complexities, all sailing south, monstrosities, as forbidden banners of condemned rebellions… Tied to the mast of someone else’s travels, on sleepless waves of no more dreams to catch, blinded lighthouses towering over shipwrecked carcasses … Continue reading A metric analysis of impossible rhymes…
Amazing traces…
Please watch before reading, and listen while you read: The Idan Raichel Project - Hakol Over (Everything passes) I need you to dream the colour of spaces, the time between midnight, tomorrow and trees, I beg you to fathom amazing traces, layers of clouds returning to seas… I dare you to picture small shells of … Continue reading Amazing traces…
Abandoned eagles…
A flow of matter, crossing bridges paved with idle rivers, of constant wars between no sides, for kings and kingdoms rather old… How bitter all the odds, when knights die young and simply for no reason, alone with horses mourning by their sides, while all the humble flowers of each season, spell intricate mementoes on … Continue reading Abandoned eagles…
To my autistic diary…
When its motion stopped, I realised that my circle of life became an insignificant spot, desperate, frightened, alone, like a tired fire juggler abandoned by an audience too dull to notice the beauty of the single detail constructing their illusion… “How odd” he said, “In vitro, every now and then becomes a schism embedded deep … Continue reading To my autistic diary…
Agnosis…
It’s not important to remember days, and wonder why has our time become so slow; it doesn’t matter anymore if there’s no thunder, after the rain, before the bow… It matters not why in our backyard’s desert, there are no camels and the Bedouins have left; what truly matters is a sense of water, illusion … Continue reading Agnosis…
Pater noster…
Stabbed, with wounds as wide as sentences awaiting to be read, almost eternal gods on trial for emotions never their own. Darts flying all over boards looking back and forth every arm eying high towers of fake mahogany… Dabbers have long dried out from above every inch of tainted prayers, sent images of cast gold … Continue reading Pater noster…
Damaged goods…
My mother, pulled the trigger over my head, leaving deep patterns of blue, motionless artefacts, resembling fountains of lost youths… Amber, left cold, around pavement stones, imagined every night by owls guarding flickering souls, hiding behind shadowless candles. Darren, open the window, my son, and let us dance, like none of us has ever danced, … Continue reading Damaged goods…
Defiant hopelessness…
Nobody’s making attempts anymore to stir a peace of roses. Individual daffodils and bunches of sage challenge shields of rage hidden under profaned altars of compromised innocence; piled mountains of drowned chariots awaiting another exodus to chase… I nearly fell for you Delilah, but I am blind you see, incapable of discerning between a hairdresser … Continue reading Defiant hopelessness…
In nomine patris…
An angel once told me, that castles of sand never die; each grain’s being washed ashore other isles, carrying whispers of hands having caressed breasts of lovers long gone… You king’s lusting lips cannot condemn you Esther… His tongue’s still tasting sweet nectars, drops of gold, diamonds of your passion’s unforbidden fruit… One day, when … Continue reading In nomine patris…
The Theoretical Philosophy of Existential Poetry 
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