poetry

Vanity on the fox’s trail, “The Darkness will understand”


Vanity on the fox’s trail
Behold, a miracle!
Supposedly one-sided at instants
Suitable for a scrambled moment
The martyr and her daughter who wash their feet
Tasseled with nails instead of sandals
Conversing silently.
Anything but sough
Shores and scrapings fantasizing
Daughter do you wish the powder to slip you
To disturb the onus, non-being and tendrils
Wistful across the stones you overcome
Blacker than night
You fear there will no longer be vertebrates
It is the third hour in the night After

from “The Darkness will understand”

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literarni dnevnici, proza

IZ DNEVNIKA POLUDELOG PISCA NAKON IZGUBLJENE PARNICE


Uskoro će sve biti gotovo. Prokletnici, obrtna optika ludila u mojoj glavi ubrzava. Više nisam žena, nego sam makroskopska čestica. Čigra. Zovite me Čigra. učiniću to tako naglo, tako grozničavo, a opet mirno, ruka mi se neće zatresti. Blago ću se saviti napred, noge u širini ramena, da.. Smiri telo. Naciljaj pažljivo. Povuci obarač. Udahni duboko. Naciljaj, povuci, smiri… Smiri…

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poetry

Breaking news


I wrote a terrible poem. Always is like that when I want to write something optimistic .. I’d better get my attention on my bloody diaries about midgets

PUBLIC REACTION:
“yeah.. we ALL read it. I read it last night.. nah… very bad. ugly!”, Eva Green
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“hahahaha, bitch.”, Angelique Bouchard
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“Sans commentaires”, Isabelle Adjani
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“I can do that”, Angelina Jolie
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poetry

I wonder why, is it just me, my heavens, my uncalmed darkness.


1
Who could speak the language
of Gods, and remain forgotten yet
unloved, a sailor
who dreamt of bridging the wings
of the earth, the blind
man who survived the sirens
and remained aloof and well known on the shore.

2
I swung in the rain in Hades
and torched the warrior’s burgh in windy Troy.
I cried over the misery
of a stone forgotten me, a solitary
woman in solitary confinement,
the sun of a day askew, a skeleton
waving, a bird in the pink afternoon,
my sigh shimmering towards the horizon…

3
Fires shrieked!
My chorus burst forth
and all wishes evaporated
into the all-knowing, faded margin.

4.
Storm raging inside,
my head aching out
a grain of salt
in this driblet of blood.

5
Et vous… pagans who gnawed my manuscripts,
listen to the wind of centuries
tangling the strings of a gaggle of pissed off gods.

6
Unloved, peckish heart!
Rainy absence on the shore
become my name!

7
I saw these images
on the bloodied road:
first: me falling to my knees.
Second: back on my feet, struggling.
Third: the lips of Judas.

8
Words speak
silence, not lust nor
curses, emptying
in darkness, fragmented, apart.
My nothingness, announced.

9
Everything was said,
phrases like crushed glass in the mouth,
heard only as lies,
if heard at all.

10
As I trudge through the light-trickled night
I wonder why, is it just me,
my heavens, my uncalmed darkness.

fearmirror

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Serbia


“I know what I’ll do. I’ll give you a drachma!”
The landlady waves the electric bill,

eyeing me as if I were her lamb meant for slaughter,
but I am a she-dreamer of beautiful lips.

Jesus understands me, we speak the same tongue.
Amunet agrees, and envelops me in her generous embrace.

The cities understand, the blindness sees,
the blood of the innocents still flows as I cast

the curse of the fiery tongue on the Daemonion
after I’ve sacrificed myself to the world outside.

She burns at the doorstep, bills in embered hand…
O, how we do not forgive our debtors.

And glory be to the hellish tower of slaves!
Glory! Amen, oh Babylon!

I walk thy streets, bare and free.
Rabbi Isa, deliver me not from Evil.

prison

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