Forgiveness

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How do blue feelings feel?
a faded fire in the eyes,
a numb hand on my chest
as I lay dying, among the graves?
Irreverence – what is that?
a wide open mouth spitting
hundreds of poisonous flowers?

Forgive the bastards!

Being dead, what is it like, after all this?
A knife impaled in the stomach,
made up of a thousand thunder bolts!
I’m purged through a holy fire
of bonfires and stars!

What thrill’s wave!
Bloody ravines everywhere,
now and to come! I absolve you all!
Bastards over the world: I absolve you all!
malvados, screams, bloody ravine, villain
Ego te absolvo!
Schwein, Schweinehund, everywhere,
now and to come:
I absolve you all!
(Vo veki vekov!)

Schwein · 1. pig, hog (US); (Fleisch) pork. sich wie die Schweine benehmen (inf) to behave like pigs (inf) · 2. (inf: Mensch) pig (inf), swine; (= Schweinehund)
Ego te absolvo means I absolve you
Vo veki vekov means forever and ever
In some cases (when negation takes place), “во веки веков” should be translated as “never”. 

Dandelions don’t tell no lies

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Dew drips from the green leaves. Fireflies, oleanders.
With their selenite eyes on the starboard side,
Dandelions don’t tell no lies

Beside me stood the blessed Cause
Lingering and murmuring by my side,
golden golden emeralds shine
Dandelions don’t tell no lies

Fell on my brow; while the corundum air
placed the things that remind you of water.
And the green stars burn like haunted fires
… for these virtues, dandelions, escaped….

You shall find your thin brown course
That tree is on the side of the Slow
The blood with the transparent water,
Dandelions do not lie, but they do smile in their own pure air.

Golgotha fell again like a bloody seed on the vertex

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It’s quiet, eerily quiet.
Filled with alabaster air,
Swift as a purple night,
Pale as an evening west
Black secrets stir in every face;
Disdain the Were the from parades;
Keep the dark flies up the road;

Will the white idol, despised and spat upon,
naked and crucified, live forever?
Doth not her ear to peace?
Disdain becomes pictorial

When the Son of Man is
slaughtered
and his wounds are
burned and torn,
Shall I am of my ancient sorrow?

Shepherd, ye taught thee for a single-ply;
a curse, a stone, a bullet are poured on his head,
Chain to a square with palaces,
House, banquet! dale and lake,

Thomas, the posthumous weevil,
burns, sad lipstick he drinks and shatters:
“Golgotha fell again like a bloody seed on the vertex.”
Although no darkness since all difference may end.
Sparta never from our skies.

[ A wide, bell-shaped cathedral ]

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A wide, bell-shaped cathedral
loomed large as I slept
over and over as it revived me

as I awoke
I flinched

The awoken.
A sweat poured from the breasts at the ribcage junction.

Dreams are like time, but I keep them anyways
confined within a glass beaker.
The dreams are awash
with preserved objects and beings.

Everything and nothing is there at night.
Symbols of unused love are both valid and invalid.

As an ever-repeating record, the Dream is
announcing alerts continuously,
in constant parody.

Such a nightmare would make anyone shiver.
Splits in two, strange
strange

strangely glassy, erotic
tablecloths set into a chest.

 Or not, for life is a circus,

the tip: suss out the clown from the ringmaster.

Wrath (Prometheus rising)

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Things break,
arguing ensues,
yelling ensues.
The gruesome gnomes are back.

Let’s birth them!
Kerosene lamps leak out in a spiral of filth
and bells ring at funeral masses

become vengeance
become… wrath

Fearful cowards
prior to the ferocious whirlwind of war
They hammer the door,
like a graveyard

become vengeance
become fury

Not yet
Not yet carved
a silhouette,,
not yet dried

The stage suddenly lit up.
A basement lamp.

ire
animositas

fire fire fire

(fire fire fire….)
mad mad gun

2

Hunchbacks
With a cloud on their back
Butcher clowns
Villains
Regana’s daughters
Who hate my day
And all my mornings
Born from the wound
Of glistening narcissuses
Litter of Lucrecia
You exchanged venoms
Compressed into pitchers
In grinds sweetly
To stain the knife
With ancient cause
It is the artist osculating
He butchered the night
Of silence
And hush
But I will further hear
The eternal echo of my death.

3

three segment worms turn the stomach
smile of a dwarf attitude,
and the rat dogs make ready to scratch
….the itch of each!

lightning bug smoke signals
alert alter boys that rage starts after mass.
be come comes from behind…
sneaking past fear that can’t hold
a candle to the unleashed release of blind war.

see the crowds gather for flames
reflected in pyromaniac eyes…yes!
now i am power, hammer, sickle,
sword sick and thor!

the reincarnated zombies rise to ride fury,
and your sons will carry future lust.
but not yet, made to wait…

waiting on a burned wood
outline of a melted sunset
afterglow of a dark blue canvas.
a hot lava lamp down deep

…to announce Prometheus rising..
but not yet….
tonight we feast and rage on fire,
with pre gun powder,
and pre pyrotechnical power.

Saadi*

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Drums, black flutes, trumpets, strings and whistles,
Saadi*, a single degree.
horror, cramps, poison, girl’s screams,
Cap the chords into the air.
broken glasses, sweaty plastrons, the sound of cracked glass,
E’en to a round day-age

twix and between
a mixed muse of sensation,
a genderless
being of chic sheikh
embodies
a broken eardrum of synaptic nerves…

shaken by sudden thunderclap!

vision blurred,
wind knocked out of a vessel,
a perceived drowning has become the sea.

calm means (are) slow moving
in the heat of the day…..
salt finds old salt
worth it’s salt,

and the content is
content.

the sun goddess rises
with the dog star…..
ra and sirius
purr godot
home always already.

to be cont…


Photo Credit: Sirius. A minute before the sun rises. Painting
Elena Barkhanskaya

*Saadi name meaning is Righteous. It has multiple Islamic meaning. The name is originated from Arabic

(no madness here) I am Ophelia

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It’s blood on the water lilies.
where crime is celebrated crimson

Over the circus hearth at Golgotha,
erect in deathless truth
both the reaper and the sower;
I pray silently with a black marble cross
like the seeds sown in a cooling magma
There is enough saint’s blood in this tone. It’s maddening, screeching, and demonic.

Die cheerfully.
Be not frightened by revelation or impatience
come Uranus moon, don’t feel terrified
Gray clouds sail by. Ophelia dreams: the waters are floatin’.
Lie fluffily on gray parquet, as if you were a yellow rag doll
A Cuckoo’s nest of instruments that sound like a zither,
a martyr is born.
Somewhere the harp is humming.
A lunatic is grieving for her lost dream.

(no madness here) I am Ophelia
Oh, reverend, sick and naked, oh, weakness, disheveled hair
oh you, unfortunate passive cry, caryatid suffering
For three already bloody summers drowning in desperate silence,

finish it!..

Ophelia in the fourth act of Hamlet is demonstrably insane, but the direct cause of her slipped sanity is something that remains debatable. © a day ago, Leila Samarrai    death • free-ve

(no madness here) I am Ophelia
Images tangled in a blur of blurred lines.
Relaxed among the diving veils…

It’s blood on the water lilies.
where crime is celebrated crimson

Over the circus hearth at Golgotha,
erect in deathless truth
both the reaper and the sower;
I pray silently with a black marble cross
like the seeds sown in a cooling magma
There is enough saint’s blood in this tone. It’s maddening, screeching, and demonic.

Die cheerfully.
Be not frightened by revelation or impatience
come Uranus moon, don’t feel terrified
Gray clouds sail by. Ophelia dreams: the waters are floatin’.
Lie fluffily on gray parquet, as if you were a yellow rag doll
A Cuckoo’s nest of instruments that sound like a zither,
a martyr is born.
Somewhere the harp is humming.
A lunatic is grieving for her lost dream.

(no madness here) I am Ophelia
Oh, reverend, sick and naked, oh, weakness, disheveled hair
oh you, unfortunate passive cry, caryatid suffering
For three already bloody summers drowning in desperate silence,

finish it!..

Ophelia in the fourth act of Hamlet is demonstrably insane, but the direct cause of her slipped sanity is something that remains debatable. © a day ago, Leila Samarrai    death • free-ve

Peace may be found in less hungry worlds

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As clouds caressed your red curls,

they pilgrimaged you

with torn uniforms as before execution

I may tremble if I see you again

now that every barrel is empty.

All of the wine has returned to the blood

that Jesus drunkenly took to heaven

with us as we eat salty meat with milk teeth.

The leafy bays were gently ripped away.

Is heresy a disgrace, or are the walls of true paradise

where frightened you lie where there is no me here,

where there is no you?

Peace may be found in less hungry worlds

to nothing certain

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Focused inward
on a pinnacle of beast
upside down in the moonlight.
Toward, but not away from dawn it howls
across the soil they speede
A neurasthenic thump thump from the drum and the wolf…
in the death agony interval
out you, you dark loners
a moribund millipede in extremis,

As the sun sets

Come out, El, Eloah, Elohai
grimacing dark laugh the Enchantress’ lit
under the hanging boiled Jason’s tail
Osii, Osia, Osii
dive out of
painted – with serpents –
with painted
with acrobata wonderfully grasshopper
balanced upon the pit of unmentionable

Back from the chill abysses home to the old home
full of sweetness
Before my mirror, in silken mists
down my flanks, awaiting in the insane circles
the more than somber a terrifying monster
and masked one, hovering
the taiga of tartaria
looming antipodal Macropodidae
the downward roo when panting with that nimbus
of hellish flames, vicious, reversed
alas,
there
end

Ten courts of hell
ten Yama kings
in a pool of filthy blood
brooding over bestia in the flare of fire
is it but reddish drawn aqueous shades
grotesquely unseen, unlamented
a red bright in the horror tilted dark,

The effortful attack of the apparition, either bored
or mad, softly, vast beast…
the effortful scorched pale virginal you
upon the red roses opened unmysteries
Queer is. Sheer it is. Defiant Damocles
belted with the vast shadow’s sword
vexed with sardonic stare prick
of black ink somnambulist soundless scream
supplies me with flambeaux whisper:

“I’m lonely. I’m lonely. I am so lonely. Lonely am I”
gone is a dreadful deed that looks like grave and
sounds like bird
sounds like the growls of lions in their wrath
sounds like…
cageless flowers behind the doomed shores
of Circe’s realm with killing smile

stinging

the oblong virtue to the beast’s visage
in the dead of the night
or knives and daggers on revolving feet
the heavenless hell honeycake to departure
I mutter, I haunt, I persecute, I knit,
the gasping chaos
taught by cool flutes lingering grace
I moan, I harp, I pipe away
And rise into ether, gather in mist
enraptured flowers, stitch the ear in a short wicked candle
Tear from the fabric the threads of incorruptible”

Immortal creature secluded in the night
forever cursed, lost with their pre-world loneliness

Left to whisper:
lonely lonely through a circle
left to weep for a cups of death
in much statically angry madness
left to strong one-pierced silence
through moaned space
time reaps death’s blade sleep
with poor cuss

left to dwell in the infamy of despair
as in the sharp blood,
o hideous night, bold in advancing
Fragile splendor intense
to the blast of a frightful scream upon awful lips

A sense of mystery untouched
by the dripping hand
dabbled with blood, the phantom smiles bloodily
and stains toes to heels, bless you, freedom
We rise to give

to nothing certain