Reportage Infinite Journey

---

to relive it all once more
I returned into time

painstakingly penetrating
against the current,
through successive
deaths,
gasping for life
through
myriads of beings

I lived through
the beginning of a species,
the ignition of the earth,
and its dispersal
amongst swirling suns

amongst stars converging at the dawn,
existing more and more musically and simply
I delved
into the heart,
the source of existence

here
I will stay longer

---

released from the embrace of your metal,
breathing freely,
I step out of the prison of my mind toward the spring days,

a microscopic new possibility for humanity
emerges in the sparks on the earth's hemisphere

sensations of a vivid night transmitted through the body,
incomprehensible fleeting
transitions,
between the splashes of resounding storms

here where,
here when,
here and now

---

prisoner of the dwarf star,
vomit from the purgatory of cultural history,
offspring of ideas raised in the jungle
with bodies hanging by their legs on poles,

meanwhile,
the gentlest melodies caress the sleeping house's heels,
the most tender colors harmoniously ring

from the windows
flames steam,
outlining the blackness,
serving no one

---

face inclined towards the past,
overgrown with rocky forests,
in peaceful contemplation,
carved by pure and deep streams

in the wrinkles of the skin
meadows full of wild animals comfortably nestle,
paths lead to watering holes,
a green branch bows over the world

but the waters are salty from present tears,
seas fortified by reefs of unspoken words

the bodies, the machines, the truths, aims

one arrives
nowhere,
one can turn
away

---

landscape of Stockholm outside the window rolls back in time

a high hill trembles under the pressure of the glacier,
water
flows deep,
densely hairy mammoths immerse their tusks in it,
and flee from their reflection in the water,
which reveals
future destinies

I kneel,
bend over the surface of the day diligently

the world is silent,
concisely
asks questions

eternity
interrogates the human

---

the scorching planet cools and burns out in changes

and in the blink of an eye the bays fill up
with people and ships,
and rumbling lamps
of civilizations

already
there is here invisible,
snatches you into the unknown,
on the transmission belt
of future

---

the same prisons all over the planet,
the same houses of love
and skyscrapers of misery

a gigantic clasp holds together day and night
emotions,
poles

the fawn and multi-maned animal flashes with white churches,
feeds on humans,
voice of victims,
screams in terror

war
is everywhere,
in the attack of cemeteries
a gigantic whirlpool mixes day and night
drawing from them the young
pure light

---

words stumble upon a pensive pen

a touch-screen that shimmers at sound or sight,
charged with black,
disrupted by red

seemingly ordinary, yet it swells like an ulcer!
in the sky, shining
flying
lances

letters panic and stomp,
as if to trample into the basement
the flow of speech

and yet a ship, loaded with polar kisses,
happy, safely docks on the shore -
into transformation

---

on the back of the Vistula plains,
on poppy petals
along the path,
amongst fields,
memory
sways
in the dizzying scent of August

the river banks
graze in the meadow of a bloodied brain

in an exciting whirl of lights and verses
they slowly transform
into wings
for love

to lift you up

---

I look at my hand
at the place, where the lines of the heart and the mind intersect
at this point so susceptible to a nail

between the brightly glowing cells
I carefully penetrate through the epidermis,
into tunnels of purple
and cool violets

I delve deeper,
among micro particles,
amidst fields of energy,
in quantum songs,
in lightning bolts of spirit

until finally, I return to the vast, rolling waters,
green stretches from the forests,
laying itself upon the waves

sometimes I glimpse a flickering bonfire on the shore,
on the other side

---

there's a terrible confusion in my field of view,
my left eye picks at meaning,
my right one suspects me of picking my nose

and the poem
is an act
of disbelief,
which requires proof

with a witty and surprising smile,
which has only one lip,
so it pretends to be a horizon,
or finds a dead cat
in a past street in the early morning

the visual informant
contradicts inspiration

---

steam locomotive disguised as a hedgehog,
childless rider with a scrap of disbelief

time for a dreadful sticky menaces,
which themselves are afraid
and hence so volatile

paw which rides upon the tops of trees,
a cardboard deer hunting wrinkles,
lamp which groans in her sleep

but slowly all lose their sense,
like a life, that entertains,
then melts in tears

and snip!

---

a gap cut by a knife in a hog
in a verse

two bloody thin lips try to say something,
something mumbles dimly,
falling into more frequent dreams

sighing with bubbles of purple words,
opening up to dark meanings,
searching in the corners of memory
thin swollen lips of a wound
want to speak sense to me

they want!
they want to learn the languages of the primer,
travel,
dance in the jungle,
sing,
scream with joy

meanwhile the body
is already being cut into pieces,
pieces of meat
sizzle in fat

---

here, human affairs are filtered

colossal water towers,
sewage systems

rumbling machines filter out waste,
tangled hair, rotten cigarettes, used condoms,
remnants of work, food, and inspired shocks
pressed into blocks burnt under pressure

water flows into further transformations,
ashes
annihilating time and earth

written sheets of paper
set aside,
in slower passing

---

my hand behind my back,
offers a hand to someone I don't know

as if I needed this!

not only did this same hand push away
another friendship offered by fate yesterday?

not only does it not come home at night?
not feed me?
not punch my girlfriend?

but also, when I'm not looking at her,
writes her own poems?

---

enamel dawn with a sleepy threat

the hours of the body resound with flutes

in an inspired spasm of guitar,
that voice
comes through cherry orchards:
I cannot lead your days by the hand

our pictures drawn on the thin glass
of a traveler's room,
of love,
bicker fondly with the morning

---

I would like to recall a poem I had in mind

right away
how was it?
I was happy with the fair-haired head on my shoulder,
tasting the flavor of spring with a kiss,
thinking about my travel notebook
opened to this very page

and then a pipe appeared in my field of view,
from which gas began to escape,
replaying cities fighting for happiness,
floral gusts of wind,
Icy architectures amidst burning jungles

and then a sentence or two,
like the hull of a ship docking at the wharf

and yet nothing
I don't remember

---

I know one must talk to you and tell fairy tales,
show every daisy in the meadow,
take the crows for a walk in the cloudy skies,
release the rabbits, let the ladybugs frolic

one must be the wind, rain and snow to you,
howl like a wolf from afar,
cheer up like a lark,
and do everything gently

I know,
one must love you

---

I see astonishment of the lamp reflected in her eyes
at the sight of dawn

a storm of green winds rages on the trees
and peace,
a foreseen dream
for today's sun,
for tomorrow's drops of sweat

for the dizziness of a head wrapped in Indian and wild clouds,
for resting in the glow of the skin,
when love is close to the window
at dawn

---

and then silence comes,
and the memory that something
crawled out of the sea onto land,
towards the promise of the light of my epoch

the monstrous beach
was formed with the imprint of myriad beings,
in its white bosom
full of strong milk

in the vapors of time leaning towards the sun,
the laborious march of reptiles, amphibians, and mammals
stopped blindly and passionately following
into the space overgrown with death

stopped at the edge of the universe,
a living marsh,
beyond dimensions it shot out
carrying in its trail our playful children

---

confusing expansion when naked
sits in lotus position
slowly sways
among contemplative lakes

her lips in a gentle smile create
the movement of time in a blooming dimension of the cosmos

enchanted by the eternal world,
crumbles on me with little pieces of ice,
a new shiver

---

the first cries of the beasts,
fires in caves, and then
so fast!
luminous barns loaded with grain,
women overexposed by church,
and children,
populated world,
ports open to new dimensions,
work transformative for good and bad

and after a quiet day,
dreams full of electric lava,
drums snarling hunting for deers

deaf to the answers,
festering ahead,
questions of the species

---

the little animal of fingers
frolics on the river bank

peeks into the burrows for yesterday's sighs

rests its snout
on the window of dreams

and places a rainbow on existence,
when it finds
my hand

and in it clouds
and a day,
revealed by caress
from the darkness

---

today I toil early in the laboratory of dawn
I must be on time!
I work in radiant matter

my hands,
increasingly skilled,
knead glowing yolk
and the proteins of darkness

white blood cells
ooze from my hands,
beginning irregular bursts
of suns
in the amniotic waters
of human morning

---

oh, nighttime amber with a streak of hair melted in

drops of life-giving resin trickle from my trunk

sunny seasons pant in the sheets

a lazy diamond sings in both our bodies

the pines rustle to us across a million years

we grow together

---

it is a time of the flashing lights
and exploding news

in the clouds, a human face with a double sun
quickly moving away from common areas

the future,
arms
with an unknown destiny

searching for words,
searching for a language to express
the feeling of existence

towards an unknown,
endless goal,
like the speed of light

---

my hand touches the world

I look at something that thinks in me,
the window with the smell of the street reaches me

and tomorrow will be dice,
and yesterday was paradise

now it is happening,

fills, touches, speaks
constantly connects me with all that's alive

that's why I'm here,
there's no time
for the lie, fear, and pain that consumes

that's why I am
here and now

---

bouquets arrange in colors
accidents of volcanic origin

life drips with glaze of years,
with hidden alarm mechanism
of existence

a lamb bleats amidst the nightly caress,
the scent of skin
slips through time like
in the forest,
pursued by hunting dogs

a poem
appears on a plain's petal,
and tastes like cherry

it can be picked up
and discarded in time,
or
eaten

---

the kiss of the day permeates through musical curtains

the enormous transparent heart rocks
homes and worlds without causing them harm

caress
of nakedness
visions in rainbow foam

in the color of a bed with a sea at the headboard,
in the color of a girl, who outside,
keeps a rocky forest on a leash
under vibrating sun

here it touches her exposed breasts

as the right half of my brain
moves shyly like a brown infant,
in her dream
about our love

---

from behind the concrete corner of naive fate
leaned out the cruel hand

by the time I realized, it was too late,
I lay in the gas chamber,
shrinking among the others,
dragged through the columns of newspapers
toward graves, that will
act in the name of

and yet I dreamed! I wanted so much
to become the inner tube of a truck,
from which the air rushes out,
during fast turns
and curves

hey!

---

when the body rapidly begins to fade away
and becomes
just an idea that craves for the body
- that's pretty good!

but when the pudding made of springtime light
crawls into the room,
and starts to scoop me up
normally with a cruel spoon
- that's also pretty cool!

and just beyond the hill of death
there's a fiery life,
where salamanders of our souls
will crawl into the depths of flame

- it is also wonderful!

---

listening to the flight of the day

the beats of seconds to the heart
in a steep ascent

three! seven! nine! the air explodes
with fireworks of new places of existence

flying saucers of words,
flying women fulfilling desires,
rainbow-colored pointers amidst herbs and grass

the skin reacting to the darkness

the body of the mind with an unknown center,
listening,
searching for pretexts

---

a tiny village,
played
on a low note
at the foot of the darkness

a sluggish hunter hunting ducks

a few fishermen by a metaphor as old as the world

pink like my beloved's shell,
a tiny psyche with an unknown name,
serves a tray
of fruits and caresses

---

perly maggi's burp
in the shop of childhood's mirth

what a hiccup, what a memory!
and bang!
something strikes the rainbow over the woods

so there's the forest and the rainbow
and under it a little shop,
salesgirl's panties, elastic all gone,
itches her left ankle,
miller scratches his pimple
came to buy a rolling pin,
his daughter's growing, you see,
needs a bit of fun,
but for now - enough!

for the next hiccup
it all collapses
into the memory

---

this person has white hair,
and a sun
over which he leans
with a brush

so why the earth
sticks to the blood on my hands,
when the pen-drawn knife in black ink
spreads the sun's ray into a rainbow?

and there's no turning back,
the guillotine grinds at the pillow,
my radiant head
lies next to the drawing with the sun and everything,
everything, everything,
until the end of the day

---

the plane with suspended loving embrace,
in turn of heaven,
determined by radar

precisely determined next
parting with the earth

search for an airport looming in the smoke,
from where one takes off in the future

and the wings detach from the visible,
and they depart in various sides of the world

man,
wingless flight

---

whatever it is,
it's constantly being transformed

today‘s wonderful meeting,
and the tedious notes of the ideological cemetery,
thin logs in coal wagons at dawn,
towns staggering
on drunken southern slopes of noon
meaty bubble tickling your darkness

what is it follows
beyond all mutability,
the body sustaining dimensions begins to glow,
and takes off

---

Calcutta street sprouts from my center

with the sunrise
wagons pulled by oxen appear within me,
to collect the corpses
defeated by darkness and hunger,
like the remnants
of a torn conscience,
scattered on the ground

fortunately,
there is another morning on the other side of the eye
and hills of round rocks and spruces

fortunately,
there is light and kindness,
love's way,
movement of billions
towards the future

---

tectonic movements of history
pour lava of dreams into the body

guns hunt for musical scores,
reveling in the spill of notes

a gag of natural darkness falls from the mouth,
railway tracks
rush with long swipes,
anxiety greets at every station

life flows towards the light,
death laughs on the side of light,
the sun
is halfway there

---

and then the roller of time rewinds the areas known to me
showing the discovery of America

on the edge of the eye
her concrete guards pecking at the clouds

my beloved friend shot in the bushes,
points with his hand in a direction,
and facing the revolver bullet in his stomach
the little ball that writes
comes out of my pen

blood
touches the notebook with mistrust,
but then never leaves those pages again

and writes its own lyrics
in the color of anarchy

---

that suffering, that arises
charges my batteries with utter simplicity

will there be enough energy, when the dusk falls,
to light up all the spotlights,
to direct them towards me and you,
towards our common human affairs?

---

landscapes of continents are suddenly and tenderly
mixed by fingers

dough
for radiant hills of Europe's bread,
enveloped by gray and blue seas

stitches of waves sew the unspeakable
with pages of my travel notebook

opposing pole of the verse
becomes love,
laughing
aloud

---

horizons flutter as the cardiogram trace,
the poem sees all

in passionate purity
it hangs in the air over the breathless earth,
rolling on a path among the forest roots,
where one goes down
towards the sea

it follows in my footsteps,
then
loses himself in the forest floor

and lies in wait,
by the heart,
for loved ones

---

the deposits of memories shift,
tanks of apple orchards
invade the plains occupied by pain

contrary to you, who don't believe
what follows the first sound,
forests full of incredulous deer happen,
crooked huts cling to the mountains,
and accompany the question in transformations,
which in essence remains
and watches over

as a fairytale dragon,
I appear to myself over clear water,
unbelievable that I still exist
really, though, in strange times

still full of anxiety and doubts,
I learn to hunt among paradise ferns
within the human species,
especially
on its borders
expanding

---

the morning emerges tall from the dream

in the flicker of a burning candle
someone unknown
fights for my life,
against his all-encompassing demon

he fights for me,
for show,
but die in reality

after all, the morning is not a dream
and
awakening
requires a different light

---

the suddenness of it all comes
on the street

a rat sky emerges from behind the hospital roof,
long sharp and elastic whiskers
sniffing their way through the city,
creeping into homes, cafes, galleries,
sniffing for color and the new scent of love,
nausea
it throws me into a sudden and deep

and now brotherhood doesn't save me,
nor does understanding,
filthy hair
smears me with mud,
dirties me with shit
slowly devours me

---

a long, arduous, and responsible
journey through trenches soaked in blood,
through muscles and cells of time,
as I fade away

a journey through time and conscience
is filled with the faintness of evening,
the weariness of pine forests,
subjected to the monologues of heat

thoughts don't latch onto any objects,
swaying in winds above the continent

in the music of the cosmos,
sounds of human and nature's civilization,
resonate in harmony
of the spheres

---

it lifts me up above the meadows
dispersing amidst grass and mist
an inexplicable and bizarre impulse
music of the breath of truth and blood

smoke from evening campfires hovers low to the ground

the field of rye rises up to the throat like hidden anxiety

calls of parents falter in twilight
in the ruts of the roads
now incomprehensible

---

peace
in the fire,
hot middle-earth in depths

the field swells with a feast of events

the hills of volcanic origin burst,
pink lava flows in all steam,
covers, unites, shapes anew,
the outlines of a beautiful dark-haired face

the new birth
in the glow of the body

---

I encounter strange beings
that hover above the world
volatile from laughing

or wander in the valleys
travelling
bestowing
selfless beauty
creating paths for adventures

in the one leading towards the sea
I find
a wasps' nest in the roots of pine
and swaying on a branch
dried by the sun and wind
a loving embrace

weather makes this view fish-like
bony rocks from which earth drips
the slight innervation of the autumn forest
and a sharp harpoon
me
on the rock

---

I contemplate native affairs
through the lens of sea bay

violin form in the sky gentle current
strings support sheets of landscapes

sensitive
to the touch occurrence of blood

understandings
glow in the lights of brain
and convert

movement of beauty
flash towards love

and the wind hits the rocks and trees creak and the sea
tears and cries
with voices of loved ones

---

daisy with her nipples raised high
hooks onto the transparent surface
hovering above my bed in wonder

the earth
suspended from the balloon of blush
sparkling pines
rust among the eyelashes
brown skin
brown skin the lash of a rainbow
and bed sheets between the clouds

and the fleeting vision of crystal flesh
ignites
with speed
in ascending
aerial currents of love

---

flames crawl towards europe from the possibilities
and sway in vision like dresses
taking off from shoulders

but there are already new ones
already turning the earth to ashes
and toward family home
glides flame procession crowned by storm

truths charged by a millennial stillness
muddy colors of deeds in soaring shoals
roar like wild animals
to his creator

who watches
with skin

---

month may is singing at the foot
of the sahara sand dune

my rider's flame struggles with the heat

from the mirage, reveal themselves:
a beautiful angel dug up by moles
a cloud planted with fragrant navels
my silhouette vomited by an air frog

love to adjectives regains meaning
mediterranean light makes me green
soul
leaves the body
and wander like ownerless

---

two days ago, we began creating the world
in the scent of love
in flight
toward the core of the earth
we denied death before the rock of the sun

and yet on that same day
in my room
a demon appeared
devoured our elation
finished eating when
our bodies disappeared

and so we must start life anew

---

amongst the palms
a quill emerges with a delicate crackle
and electric lava appears in the wind
as the pig of childhood vomits me onto the sand

and then
from the future
a pack of hungry wolves rushes out
and the battle begins for which I sat up at nights

the clattering of teeth echoes through the muscles
the screams of the victors
the howling of beasts

how can one sleep here?

---

time stands still with me

a bloodstain on a dried-up street
oils the gears in the machinery of night

imagination rushes in and dips its muzzle
drinks for a long time
then leans on the shoulder
of the Great Bear

and there meets the only dream
which rises so high:
a face as sad as a chipped nail with peeling polish
with spalling lacquer
fades away
vanishes
halts at nothing

---

tongue sweats in a foreign language
knot of the tie shines with intricacy
contradictions dissolve and slip outside
onto grass gray with frost

something flutters within the body
but does not really want
freedom

captivating vision of our paths that could be straight
yet, they twist and turn, intertwine in dreadful knots
and tighten around the neck

and in a moment, even
the poem is entangled in all of this
from which it should flee

---

I not willingly watch through the prison window
a patch of sky thick with bristles

last fact before fainting
during torture
was compassion for the executioner premature baldness

no! I will not give up!
even now when the mattress in my cell begin to fizz

long shiny hair parasitize on the soil bed

yesterday they ate my leg
today hum on inner surface of the stomach

so I decided to eat my bald torturer
I'll get him with the other leg!
before it overgrowns with hair!

---

someday I will wander like I did long ago

when the bell will clang high in the clouds
in praise of the morning

a man will come to me to tell me his name
a river will flow through me and murmur its name
a meadow grasshopper on stretched legs
will play a last chord of a song

and the body
in the air
will hiss like a fire that leaps onto a traveler
like long ago

---

my love
in your face, memories are unrecognizable

I withdraw in amazement and live enough
to laugh and cry,

while the wind of mighty futures
carries my hair, my blouse away
slowly sucking in my body's glow
breaking off unfinished sentences
into sounds of colors

---

the sky is dark
empty, without borders

only faith and hope with fragile wings
flutter among the sparkling cries of air

the flame of the campfire on the rock
calls me from the negative
on which there are no people

the transparent film quivers around my eyes
fueling the darkness

---

yet strict and logical fences emerge,
barbed wires,
clouds of vagueness affectionately embrace the face
forming a muzzle

the passion for precision,
visiting times and locations of the action,
where a short circuit connects opposing poles,
when the nervous system circles over the waters
of the first morning

and in the meantime, between flashes on the spikes
I squeeze myself
towards greater density
the sound of my voice
does not catch up with me,
poems,
traces of bleeding

---

it gets cold when I think about you
crawling out from under my own skin

your shining blades polished by instinct
your hooks
clinging to every crevice of the earth
so as not to fall from it

I see you making evasions before the deadly barrier
that I leave behind

it's dawn
and I'm getting cold

as I look back
I see that you're catching up

---

the spiral galaxy unfolds from the fire,
its breath is felt by the night, our bodies, the meadow,
ready to ignite

---

someday the grass above us will lift in the sun
the wind will scatter us and turn us into space
we will no longer despair and long
the grass will rustle
it will be an eternal day

---

the rain has stopped
I stand
at the shore of the sea
that flows wide
and saturates me with its bitterness and light
over which a seagull of the dawn
circles low

and when I return towards home
rocks
heading towards their own destinies
stumble upon my body and hold their breath

and everything connects
in a dimension
over which bright flames appear
and lay onto this page

---

the evening's smacking is heard all the way here,
which tastes my poem

the blues of faith sung through the open doors of cafes
a sudden and lasting rise
to the work of existence

stars scattered in human activities
lay me down to sleep in a warm twilight of life
in which one forgets,
approaching closer,
negating differences

---

I don't see much,
the world
blurs,
light endures

endures motionless in the dawn
a rock cracked by fires and shivers

gray rain washes the hills,
flows slowly on the wind blowing from the past,
turns the wind
into a glass
on which drops slowly trickle down
and separate the world from me

allowing me to turn around
inside

---

it's amazing that one can always withdraw
leave behind unfinished sentences
unresolved loves
imperfect deaths

it's amazing that in the air
can move
without a trace of implosion
a void with dimensions of a human

it's amazing that before "before"
one can put a comma
before the wall, a row of victims
before death, a period

it's amazing
above the grassy hill
a mist rises sunny
and forest birds
weave a thick musical net
into which hands are entangled
so as not to cause surprise any harm

---

lair on the artificial field done by candlelight

camel ripple out on the edge of a star
through the glowing head crawl meanings without names

sparkling with colors procession glides into the winter
snows put elation on the ground

it gets pure
white
as if nothing else existed

as if focused in the experience of light
rose
forever

---

there is translucent lava
surrendering
to the dimensions of the body

floating over a fjord with rocky shores
in gentle implosions
among sun-drenched birches

and when it approaches the stillness
of a portrait of a girl against a backdrop of dark years
their delicate light is released from me
and persists

---

I greet you with my breath
with a row of birches on a hill
with spring and starling flight
with what brings fate

it is four o'clock in the morning
I greet you with every dusk
with red-hot campfire somewhere high up in fields
with a slice of bread and snow

look in the eyes
its like at the seaside
few rocks and winds
a stubborn splinter
so-so

I greet you with life
like it does flower
I greet you in the time

---

the wind blows through the blooming apple trees,
petals flying

the wind, your lips, my laughter, the apple trees -
never met, never parted

---

how musical it is here
in the countryside!

how purple
the vibration of the branches sways in the wind,
an orchestration of barking dogs,
honking geese

the neighing of horses with a flaming manes,
thunder with hooves galloping
straight into my childhood

how blue it is!

---

today is so cozy
the world
is made of rabbit ears

the path I walk among the trees
is the line of your left hand

between the clouds I see the door
between thoughts hope

between raindrops
a rose
straightens its petals
and makes a bow
towards the heart

---

your name suspended between sounds
a body of gold and in the clouds

and the clouds on that day were sad
sad wanderings downward
on opposite sides of the mountain ranges
where bodies gradually fade away

and our strange discoveries
signify clarity and understanding
for a love that gives only and demands nothing
for a love that fades between
and becomes for

and becomes life

---

branch of birch,
lead me through storms and sunny days
shed your leaves,
do not hold back my tears

our transformations burst from a shared source,
we are together,
our laughter understandable
will shake the world

---

the full moon shines through the mists of snow

the sky is pale
the air is pure

my elation
trembles under the weight of flakes

the fullness of life
is fulfilled
today in snow
without yesterday

---

roaming white forests and a flat slope of sky

through my blood
flow heavy icy floes toward my brain
flickering snow-covered corpses, buried alive,
the hoarse roar of an icebreaker's siren
shakes my unease
ash flakes stick to my feverish skin

so I ask,
what is it
that is unknown to my thoughts?

thus, I wake up in a journey
through the earth, body,
mind

thus, I become
an icy pearl,
in which an unknown
in the brightness
stretches out hands
loves hears understands

yes

---

life has no beginning or end

Its true poles are the light
it moves towards
and the world it emerges
from out of love

---

under the skin of this earth, bread sighs

whence come the moans of glassy, long-lasting sounds?
from whence comes pathetic chirrup of hunger
and the rumble of war?
from where the wind?

drafts of time!

the air is unbearably tight against my skin
color burns me
sound hurts

but the body cannot decide
the wind brings forth images from the negative of memory
down below a meadow slips by
gray from the bones of the dead

the word is a window
someone opens it
and offers you a hand
someone has negated the bonds

trust!

---

tonight was beautiful
so many wise words,
so many friends of music, love, and caresses,
and such peace!

yet, in the midst of the night,
my head becomes a rocky hill,
the wind blows through the fire and the stones crackle,
the sea flows into my body, it tastes so bitter

someone in me cries hidden under water then,
someone else sits and stares into the flames,
and the birch bark
flaking,
sizzling,
reveals in the fire that essence
that nothing
that only knows how to burn,
to warm up

---

here is a tribe that works eagerly
on the glowing mass in the bone cave
of the all-encompassing brain

a mortal and rebellious world
proclaiming the glory of infinity
amidst the echo of the sea of rocks and clouds

here's a child jungle
abandoned on an inert sidewalk

the sun imperceptibly slips between the days
the leaves smell
time slows down
the head tilts from exhaustion towards understanding
in the direction of truth, the murmuring of caves resonates

rhythm

the rustle of bones supporting the fire
the glow

---

at odds with the laws of this world:
the gravity of faith
tilts me towards the earth of future brotherhood

I'm chosen by a sun-driven forest

the voices of friends resonate here in meanings
like the bird song on the lips of the morning

thoughts shimmering gold and swollen
move in dark clouds
between the threads of lightning

that which I cannot express
appears on its own
freedom illuminating the self
shivers illuminating the blood

the scent of present longing
dominates

---

that's love after all

it rises above you, soaring freely
through days and nights
multicolored
fearless

it may not always reach fulfillment, but fate

don't forget, you hold all the names
yours is the life
the world and morning in this flight
as you ascend towards the light
you become more

I am you
giving you wings

---