Skip to main content

Quantized Adornment





All through the cedars, all night through.
Footsteps on sand.
Waves on land.
A scorpion comforts a scarab.
Adornment.

I will know where you will step.
I will be there every time.
You said, the waves! Can you hear them?
And i could.
For hours. For months. For ever.
That was me.
And that was you.

The scarab shivered.
Up on the hill the wind has blown our voice. Observe the angle.
For in the silence you will come to these words.


Waiting for you. All around.
In every quantized condition.
Underneath stones, melting in freeze.

The scorpion stood up.
The stones. This weight.
I am afraid.
Without the cedars and the sand.
Without a promise and a land.
I will not stay, but stead i will be everywhere.

Observe the doubtless verification of possibilities.
And choose the door.
The right door on the left.
Prepare for what is right.
Know from all that's left.








Comments

Popular posts from this blog

the power of saying

words that still break the silence. words that still break your guts when they can. when you can . when i can. cautious revival efforts stumble over the realm of possibility. have we ever existed beyond this spinning? the stars have brought the mad god back to earth. a shine above the long  journey to birth. and some of us, like this digital ink, let to be. a hope that slips through your thoughts to nowhere and vanish. for all they have is a moment. the moment the moonrise meets the sunset. the first look.  the one that used to slice their being. innevitable mastering of courage . for this moment they have known well. irreversibly bequeath of forbiddance loves the eternity between the imaginary and the feasible. the martyrdom of magnetism while losing yourself in space. we met an ocean that splitted us when time came for Chorus. it's time to bury our guns, to soften your eyebrows. to look on what we have done my fairy.  look ...

Παγιδα μπροστα

Και να σου η τυχη, πανωφοριασμενη με καθε λογης ζεστη αναμνηση, καθισμενη επιβλητικα στη γωνια της σκακερας. Τιποτα δεν ξεφευγει απ'τα δυο της ματια. Ατιθαση αντιδραση κοντρα στην επαναληψη και στην αδρανη μονοτονια. Αρχοντισσα της ρουφιανιας και της βουρκωμενης φινετσας. Αγελη κυβερνα προβατων διχως να το 'χει η μοιρα της. Ξεροσταλιαζει καθε που βαριεται και προσταζει νεα παραμυθια με τον αυλο του γητευτη... Ταπι και ψυχραιμοι, ..μαγκα δε σου 'μεινε δραχμη...

the right foot

in moments of stillness  where in favor is to spectate, inteligence arises and listens, captures the fruits of the past, coming to life, growing, in front of the eyes like the mirror, the undeniable, for the years will heal these days, but not the memory of the foot, cause it will always betray the foibles.