THE HIDE-RS

Born a thousand years ago, when the questions stated coming, they are friendly fragile creatures who pine by morning, afternoon and the night for crystals which do not exist. In this way, they are very similar to archaeologists, except they do not dirty their hands at all; but crowd their little minds with forests without trees and animals but with war cries of passion and more passion. They sleep late, mediating with the night to hope in the morning with heavy eyes, but of course they do not succeed and do not realise. Like, a man being spurned, they look up paths ahead, stepping over the one your eye may directly see if you close it. In their childhoods, they didn’t live with their parents; they observed them and loved them but never could figure out the tender nerves of the socio-biological blood connection thing. They exhibited tendencies to do the opposite of what they were asked to do, they lied mindlessly, dreamt soullessly straddling dreamworlds of other people without asking permission. Surprisingly, they sucked when it came to directions probably springing from a childhood habit of going in the opposite direction when asked to come this way. It was a conspiracy of geography and psychology where lost in mazes, they would fight imaginary battles. Hide-rs grew up to feel like outsiders, trying at the same time, to suppress all those anti-social tendencies like pushing a blind girl over the steps when she enjoyed precariously, her aimless life. They understood their difficult positions later and frustrated often turned to roughness in sex and abuse in relationships. They caught solace in different smokes, grieving over the hazy smoke when it flew away, or uncurled leaving them. They often barrelled into their bodies hoping to find the crystals in that core; they didn’t. Today, they cry silently and do not answer questions. Oh yes, it is a perverse peace.

Up a talker's ass

dear dear
now i am in a fix
mouth can be closed, like this.
you stop talking, like this.
and then when you can't, you try to kill yourself like this.

burying more sand in a desert,
scattering them up on the wind,
circling birds with more sand,
worlds go awry with upside down
grain of sand.

please eat it and die,
and peace be with you,
and with you.

PS: if you can still not die, come to me. we will make love.

'And the stars go with you'

Stranger, you are.
You must not talk to a stranger,
You must always lie to one,
And when the world stops moving,
Grope in the dark for one.

Carry a mountain, drop it over your head and cry loud. Scream like you can hear states away that I miss. Kill birds to make them all die for you. Make water and stir, and let it rise, and move slowly, like this………that when it reaches you may idle, make circles with feet, and slowly lower, feel water move like leaves across an angry face, take in the water and go down, till you see all worlds tiptoeing in the assembly of the water lords.

To lie back and remember,
The days of your happy and sad,
Call to hear a song,
That let me in where I made cuts of blue,
Smearing it like a sunny bitch,
And sleeping without looking at you.


There, I know a bee I can kill,
I planned its sting
I didn’t notice its dying,
Till criss-crossed it cried sighing.

weed

You bitch,
You promised.
And the trees sit still, holding bad breaths with an air of suspicion, at the impending decision. I grovelled, and crawled and licked the floor and wrote her name, to soothe my antagonism. But it flamed up to beat me down, to keep the head level down to the floor and smell it by the cold surface. It is not reminiscent, but it jumps on my breasts endowing them with a certain heaviness that I want removed. Discard, this minute, this fleeting minute when it turned one. When you promised, what now do I do with memories floating to be formed? Of dreamless sleep, and beautiful touches, and a feather screaming through; lifting me against the moon, for her to see.

Lights bright up spattering across the plain
Rewrite this history,
It’s been a long world in a remember
Of looking you at better so you see
Living saying long, long hour
At this city like any other,
World, it not good, you are still old,
Musical chair moving, skipping few places
Till you twinkle feel them at tips of slanting fingers,
Plan gather dust in Egypt,
Long night, long night, meet Ra and give him my gold-
Sands of a long long night of yesterday tiny fire lights

Wind moves gentle in the deepest corners of night
Stepping on little souls to bless them with the magic of love
In the night. Stop. Stop.

Slowly going insane,
With the light all alive
Which I cannot see, but hear and feel
Right above towering. Wherever whatever I do
Hovering in front of a heart break
It will sleep.
Like yesterday, the time of chance I never had
Or of the laughter leading to lily ponds
Like revising this romance
Where end kills chances of I
Can’t you see it?
Red, in an open book
Seeing covered in fluid,
Let it live like on and on.

I watched love make me yesterday
Thrown round loops of hair
Of a curly haired man,
Sink round eyes of desire,
Moving them through the leaves,
Make jump over the moon
To a water of pleasure sincere.

Tired.

I am sun’s daughter and moon’s lover
I crave in the sun, sunk eat in the night-
I watch clouds move, making the moon
Laughing travel or trail,
By bushy trees make me veil look at you
Beautiful till tomorrow
It us a new world,
Where pleasure springs from the down,
And little fingers hop in all sides,
It is a real clever to watch meaner dies kill lie still:
Excellent life, it is so nice,
And themes are here, lost and never sell;
Which which which which eh, calls you
Strumming, waited for you all
I am surrounded nakedly
It is just the closet in your head is open
Excellent life, greater sin
Is take my hand,
Weary hand of mine, sweet child called Mine,
Very soon round you bitch leader suns of a pack
Called, eskelongriefe [it’s a long grief]
Vibrating phones set the tune,
Watching good doors behind you open
To know light must shut out,
And snakes will wither
And you will bleat the dream of
The little flaieries blowing in the wind.
Like life in a mystical flute.