Blood And Confusion

Words confuse and create equivocal thoughts
Thoughts silently transmit our inner essence
The eternal silence leads to oblivion.
I am contradiction, the boundary, inside and outside
I am difficulty, immoderation, mannerism, simplicity,
rigor, baroque, minimalism
I’m like this music that twists around itself,
that gets torn and recomposes.
I’m the result of a test, the survivor of a living
Rottenly imbued of my life, counterpoint to the petrification of pain
Heap of rocks, skeleton of soul, voice suspended in a dream
Longing for entering the mystery of visible
For tasting the sweet horror vacui.
I listen to the silence
I feed myself with fear, rage, anguish and unspoken sensations
Surprised and spellbound by the grotesque and eclectic revelation of things.
I perceive something tragic here
And my mind is blood and confusion.

Eleven Three O Three

Move your body to the rhythm of passion
Let senses overwhelm ratio
Don’t ask anything to yourself. Don’t waste this moment
The echo of weeping is armored in wind
That accomplice carries it far away
So that it could never be refracted on your heart’s walls again.
This is a gift nobody can ever steal you
A flame neither the ocean can extinguish
’till you will protect this treasure in a sacred secret
No external force could disfigure
the sweet aspect of this pulsing joy
Feed on this embrace with love, respect and hope
Consecrate the event in the name of supreme emotion
Entwine in a sacred knot the shining wefts of this harmonious desire
Then throw it into the cosmos’ centre where the royal energies meet
So that it can preserve itself and vibrate forever in magnificent poetry.

Irreverent Elegy

My life is made of emotions, passions and horrors, ’cause when you truly live you can even fall into deep pain
My bed is made of small fresh leaves, moving slowly like a requiem
My temple is made of dark gloomy trees, coming loose along a black oval path
My chant is a desperate and irreverent elegy, composed in honour of those who have no reserve and fear
Hordes of maleficent and false sins come back upon me.
Shall I ever let my mind wander over the sad effect, this filthy disease causes to my limbs and to my heart?
I believe the persistence of the thin line of hope is worth this effort
I believe its benefice can reach the intensity of full and perpetual delight
Nothing is true, all is allowed
In every dramatic situation there is a subtended element of absurdity and humor
Every dogma contains something unhealthy and corrosive
Our identities change every day with our memories
We are not always what we really are, ’cause we reinvent ourselves
We change our skin and consistence
And we lie with innocence, trusting our memory.

^{(Some concepts of this lyric are fragments of speeches by Elia Suleiman, Hassan I. Sabbah, David Cronenberg)}

The Divine Rapture

Bewitched by the eternal rhythm of divine breath, perverse he smiled to the prickly knock of rain drops, his body was cruel like beauty, his eyes incandescent like silk. Transfixed by an absolute lightning of freedom

He freed himself in an uncensored dance. Possessed by a pressing desire of being, fibrillation of misleading welfare. Star, unreachable demiurge, ice, frost and silence. A light dyed with ghost-white his heart, gusts of jade struck his memory. Icon of collective dreams, pulverized by magic fears, ancient gold of a waste land.

He turned his thoughts into words and his words into actions
And his moan was like a sweet chant without words.

Omen Of Delirium

Disciples of obsolete and unthinkable commerce scrawled in Etruscan language
Dependents on not yet synthesized drugs
People of the black market of the third world war
Practicing absurd telepathic sensitivities
Obstetricians of the spirit
Investigators of dissipations denounced by bland paranoiac chess players
Servants of unlikely fragmentary guarantees transcribed in Jewish stenography
Imbuing the spirit with unspeakable mutilations
Surly police officers of not prostituted lands
Junk dealers, sellers of delicious nightmares and of yearnings dried on cells saturated and affected with unknown pathologies
Bartered with the rough material of the will
Drinkers of heavy fluid sealed in shining amber of dreams.
I shall never forget the unspeakable horror that froze the lymph in my glands, when the maleficent word scared my shaky brain.

^{(Freely inspired by Naked Lunch by W. S. Burroughs)}

Out Body Experience

Splitting of median entity – Practice of doubt
I look for the truth in the silent shine of your eyes
Speaking with the forces of the air
Good vibrations, cries and whispers
United in the great enchantment of sound
To die remaining invisible
To fly with the wings of anti-time
To unload the wagons of nothing
To fling your heart behind the wall
Essence of musk and almonds water
Concealed behind the closed eyelids of transparent lives
Consoled by a sublime forbidden sweetness
The memory rewinds again
And it grows with new colors
Emotional kaleidoscope – Crystal of red glass drops
Casket of shattered thoughts
Cut off light resetting the past
Filtrating the space, adoring emptiness
Inconsistent entity baptized in rain
Vivid presence recreated from dust.

Prayer Of Sorrow

Imploring visage
An invisible barbed wire has encircled your wrist
Leading you to an irrepressible scandal of sincerity
I will quench your eyelids forever, so that you stop
feeding yourself with others’ memory
Presage of intimate speeches and of obscure and obsessive fantasies
Unavoidable condemnation, complicity, extraneousness
I will never know your truth, nor you mine. We will always be uncertain
about life. Bold human beings with severe look,
who climb the mountains of loneliness
Trembling in the panic of desertion we librate in the luxury of a bitter calyx
To know the secret of love that doesn’t ask anything
I don’t want to be forced to laugh just to gratify you
I want to startle in a harmonious discretion
To dance in the funereal garden of roses, to deny a divided god
To say the prayer of sorrow, to lose myself in an angelic orgasm.

Vox Of Anti-Time

Distorted walls cannot tear the lights of thunder and the flashes of reason
If something must still happen, it shall happen following the rules of anti-logic
Flee from the ignoble joke of nature, that vegetates in company of the fetid ignorance
Don’t burn your energy trying to stand your anti-you
Scratch lunacy and remember that, after all, everything can be brought back to a ridiculous game by the vox of anti-time.
You cannot separate happiness from your life, as your life is not exempt from tragedy
World is made the contrary of what the common sense is done

It leans on a ignorant and unthankful substratum, that sings hosanna to the ones who kill and spits on those who celebrate the excitement of life, that worships the false prophets refusing the simplicity of sincere feelings, to protect his own inconsistent shell from the disappointment of raw truth.

I am against every stereotype or icons
I yearn an antiseptic space, impatient and devoid of shame
I know it exists, it is inside me
Sometimes outside me
I’ve been there with my mind.