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POETRY

I was lonely and tired

It was the death of my desire

 

You showed up and you told me

Can I ask you to show me? 

 

I have showed you my heart, it was bleeding

You said I'm a vampire, please feed me

 

I said blood is expensive, it costs love and intention

You said I can pay you with love, but not with intention

 

Instead of intention I gave you attention

You drank all of my blood, it was vengeance

 

Next time I met you, it was in my dreams

It wasn't romantic though, I told you to go back to sleep

 

After the fire of the desire dissolved

We were just strangers, who once drank each others blood 

 

 

Your love was contagious

It felt like roses and sharp razors

 

I got a flat tyre

And we both decided to retire

 

Was it the roses or razors 

That gave me the flat tyre? 

 

No, it was you, you little vampire

Instead of biting me, you bit into the tyre

 

When I asked you why? 

You said: to kill your desire and to set your heart on fire 

 

When I asked you how are we going to get home with the flat tyre? 

You said: fuck it, I'm a vampire 

 

Your love was contagious

It felt like roses and sharp razors

 

I was lonely and tired

It was the death of my desire

 

You bit into the tyre

And set my house on fire

 

When I asked you why? 

You said I want to kill you, I'm a sadistic vampire 

 

We were young and quite crazy

I heard in movies actors say I love you my baby

 

I try to remember your name you little vampire

But In the back of my head I can hear 

 

The death of desire

After I met the vampire 

 

 

We were telepathic

Talking through thoughts, enigmatic

 

Our love was explosive, I bought you dynamite 

You said it's better than roses

 

When you went on a trip

You said baby don't trip

 

I'm away, but we connected

If you cheat, the explosion might be hectic

 

Then I realized that I should have bought roses

So I was calm, avoiding explosions

 

When you got back, you brought me a gift

It was cyanide and I thought it was sick

 

I said: I always admired your pyromaniac spirit

You said: please don't insult me, I'm a maniac not a killer

 

Next day I forgot that we were telepathic

Talking through thoughts, enigmatic

 

In my thoughts I admired your maniac spirit

But in my heart, I wanted to kill you

 

Because you loved me, you could hear what was going on in my heart 

So before I gave you the cyanide

 

You have cut my throat and I died

You laughed and you thought you have won

 

But the dynamite exploded

And once again it was 1-1 

 

After your body blew up into pieces

We were together again indulged into business

 

Business was always about who can love more

And your maniac spirit could have been only adored

 

Our Love was explosive

Like the dynamite and the red roses 

 

Telepathy and our connection was unending

I would ask myself

 

Why was it so reality bending?

And it turns out that we were on drugs

 

It was sunshine and rainbows 

Until we had to grow up 

 

But the telepathy never ended

I'm still looking forward to dynamite and the real ending 

 

But you still want my blood

And my heart is still bleeding

 

I can feed you again

If you promise, that you will need me

 

This time without war, without any explosives 

But who am I kidding? 

 

It was you! You pyromaniac spirit!

So we blew each other to pieces again

 

Then I realised that my desire could never end

Because we will blow each other to pieces again and again

POETRY

It was winter, it was cold, we were drinking

​

I said I missed you so much and asked you

​

Why can we only fully express ourselves when we  drinking?

​

Your answer was: because we are sinking

​

The abyss does not mind our overthinking

​

The bottomless pit is eating us up

​

But without each other we would dissolve into dust

​

I held your hand while you were crying

​

You gave me a hug and said

​

Please touch my heart I want to get higher

​

I asked you: Do you like my true face?

​

You said: We are all faceless, only our creator has the true face

​

One of us said No!

​

Our creator and us are the one and the same

​

The faceless explosion that will dissolve into dust

​

Only our love can hold weight

​

Because it will never go bust

​

You were evil and I was from planet Nibiru

​

Our creator was One and the same

​

Our hearts never knew the true evil

surrealism, man and woman, hearts, wings, futuristic, darkness, chains, boiling led, fire_

POETRY

How much love is in there?


In where?


In the place that was not there

​

I know what you mean


But I'm lost in your need


In your need to be loved, covered and hugged

​

It's a beautiful thing, two people and things


What things?


The admirable things: Blades, razors, red roses and wings

​

We are always so close to the absolute emptiness


But we care for each other, even after the nothingness

​

We shoot each other dead


And then walk around


Like nothing was said

​

Who made us so close?


Our trauma or was it love, or not even close?

​

I was waiting for you


And you said: I never have left


I needed some time to keep my heart in check

​

The culmination of thoughts led us quite far


Now we are strangers


While in the back of your eyes, I can see, there's still rainbows

​

You remember the rainbows during the rain?


We laughed and said it was ours after the kisses were made

​

It was our prison


And we haven't left yet

​

But it's too late to notice now


Because those versions of us are long dead

​

The desired outcomes, the egos, the dread


Inducing that fire to boil it like led

​

All the nails were crushed into the coffin


Our egos are buried


After that, there was nothing

​

But as we do, after the nothingness comes


We grab the chains and wrap them around us

​

Boiling led is getting closer, It will be hot


But I forgot the cyanide, I can't make it stop

​

It will hurt for a while, until we lose touch with reality


In a sense I am glad, we can scream, it's insanity

​

Why the torture and why so much pain?


We were dreamers, I told you, we were insane

Beast attached to the ground with chains, darkness, pain, law, beast with pumping veins,

POETRY

Shackled by law, attached to the ground


We managed to fly anyway, above all that sound

​

The road wasn't easy


There were bumps, wounds and a couple of shots


Things don't come easy

​

Attached to the ground


We kept it quite strong

​

We were clueless of what was going on


Who was the second and who was the third?


One after another, until all things went wrong

​

It was the time for discovery and for making solutions


Inner plasticity and all kinds of illusions

​

We got lost my friend


And we don't know where to go


Psychiatric hospital or the side of the road?

​

The former would offer us food and tight clothing


Probably padded walls and definitely no roses

​

Antipsychotic solution without the blood and red roses?


Tight clothing sounds good


But our minds will get stolen

​

The fact of the matter was


That we have lost our minds in our childhood, without us knowing

​

Solution were simple


Prison or hospital


It won't be that simple


Hallucinations were horrible

​

We smacked our heads against the padded walls


We preached to each other


Solutions will come once we break through them walls

​

But those walls were only the creation of our own minds


There was no hospital and there was no one around

​

The side road was your lonely heart


And the hospital


It was all in my mind

​

Then I woke up and realized I was dreaming


Dealt with rejection


Pretending I don't feel it

​

Communication interrupted


Our feelings corrupted


Psychotic symptoms can not interrupt it

​

I was talking to myself and talking to you


But you were just my hallucination


But I will be honest, I still do miss you

​

If I could only release enough LSD into the water supply


We all could go crazy, we all could just fly

​

Then I could talk to you again and again


Tell you I miss you


And wake up from that horrible dream once again

Two worlds collide, night, darkness, two

POETRY

Stuck in between the two worlds


One of hunger and another much worse

​

No calculations no name


Just pain pain pain

​

Between the two worlds


There's few islands and a horse

​

On top of that horse, there's an ego and worse

​

Two identities like two nations


Darkness and light in the eternal gesticulations


Both trying to disentangle


But the entanglement is too strong, too many of them trying to hold on

​

One side is full of explosions and sounds of destruction


The other of prayers and blessings and no liposuction

​

The basis of darkness is based on rebellion


The basis of light is based on understanding resilience

​

The weapons of darkness are feeding on the fear of the light


The weapons of brightness is burning the night

​

His name was Invincible


He was the Captain of the Forces of Night

 

Her name name was Maya


She was the princess of Light 

​

The Captain of darkness gathered the troops


He wanted to invade the Castle of light and destroy Mayas troops

​

Maya was smart, she was the Goddess and the creator of the fundamental illusion


She created this play and this whole illusion

​

Her main weapon was her contract with Brahma


She made a pact with him that she will create all this drama

​

The drama of separateness and the veil of illusion


It was her job, the smoke of expressive delusion

​

All the souls in this game was the original spirit of Brahma, just detached from itself with a smell of black coffee and the cheap city drama

​

Brahma has asked Maya to help him


To get lost in himself, without a way back and no one that could help him

​

Maya said yes and instantly created this veil of illusion


Brahma got lost, forgot about himself in this veil of delusion

​

The contract was the best trip of Brahmas existence


Up until today he haven't realized that he is missing

​

Brahma got lost in form and in spirit


Brahma went as far as delusion would give it

​

Mayas illusion gave Brahma his vision


His fantasy was, the creation of a separate being

​

Before Brahma met Maya, he was alone


Just a pure essence of existence, without another hand that he could hold on

​

Maya have given Brahma a chance to feel pain


To feel love, loved and never take that in vain

​

Mayas illusion and Brahmas delusion is still going strong


Without their delusion we all would be gone

​

The mist in his eyes was the language itself


The language which gave your being to someone else

​

Your being was given to the alien system


You are possessed by language


That's Maya within you

​

Brahma as well is dwelling within


But he is so lost, there is no way in

​

This realm is a dwelling within the mist of illusion


Desire, pain, love and delusion

​

Maya and Brahma made a strong pact


Two energies holding forever intact

​

And you are their son or a daughter for sure

​

The cycle's of Yugas repeat again and again


Life just goes on, hold on there my friend

​

And if consciousness is the basic element of existence


We all will be back, just wearing a different kind of a mask

man and a woman in the realm of the matr

POETRY

The real conversations were without words


Our hearts were talking


While our faces were cold

​

The closer I got


The faster you ran

​

The less I would chase


The more your desire expand

​

You would scream without words


While looking at me

​

I would pretend that I can't hear you


Because I knew, If I would get close


You would ask, not to come near you

​

The real conversations were without words


But your eyes told me


Come! I love being observed!

​

So the distance got shorter


The gap almost got closed

​

But now, you started smiling


You spoke through being observed

​

My attention helped create your intention


Your intention was to feed on my attention

​

We were like the two planets colliding


Desire and tension

​

I've noticed your perfume and makeup


You were perfect, the ultimate steakhouse

​

And the planets collided, desire exploded and tension subsided

​

Being observed, to you, was like food


You would walk around naked


Pure desire, impossible to not to be in the mood

​

It was pure and clean in the beginning


But we had to take off our masks


And show what's been silently screaming

​

You hated your sister and your father was bald


Telecommunications with your mother was almost untold


Family hatred was running your life

​

I'm not holly myself


Shits upside down

​

Walking on water turning blood into wine


While rejection was the only thing that's divine

​

Rebellion governed our disastrous lives


While a quintillion times


We tried to deny it

​

And in the end there was no Heaven or Garden of Eden


There was pain and rebellion


It was good against evil

Brain in the cage, futuristic environmen

POETRY

Confined in this box of master and slave

​

We live all these lives attached, without a chance to remain

​

Crime rate is high, but no, we can't fly

​

There's nowhere to run, there's nowhere to hide

​

It would be an insult, if we tried to deny it.

​

But how can the law dictate our chance to exist?

​

If we don't even know, what it is.

​

There's plenty of theories and all kinds of religions

​

But as far as we see, there's no one

​

Do you hear me?

​

Alone in the dark, we try to deal with our loss

​

Everything that has been accumulated, will be inevitably lost

​

Attaching more parts, updating the structure

​

We still stuck in the place of meta corruption

​

Going after one thing to feel more alive

​

But finding out in the end, it wasn't that nice

​

So where do we go? New planet? New home?

​

Without imagination, we are forever alone

​

Meeting with otherness is done through your mind

​

The other exists, but most likely, it's in your mind.

​

Is this life some sort of idealistic illusion?

​

Where the mind of creator is dreaming these things, without no confusions

​

Or is it just basic material things?

​

Matter exists, but there's no other things

​

Your conscious experience is created by your body and mind

​

But there's nothing behind it, is there nothing divine?

​

As long as the ego will be running the show

​

The master of evil is not going home

​

The utopian dream of completely liberal morals

​

Are only possible after the seduction of horrors

​

The horror devours our imaginative creation

​

Egoic structure and the idyllic ideation

​

Confined in this box of the master and slave

​

We keep looking for masters, but it ends up always the same

​

What do we need, to be able to change our ways?

​

Catastrophe seems to be perfect, thereine.

Psychoanalysts wearing a black suit is s

POETRY

Repression told us to keep it below

​

But it comes back to the top

​

Without being told

​

What was repressed, it must return

​

The silence might kill

​

But the word will return

​

Many words you have heard, when you were a child

​

They have been running your life, but you try to deny it

​

Once you start the process

​

Of excavating the mind

​

You might find some things

​

Which anymore cannot hide

​

Once things from the past

​

Been seen as anew

​

Interpreted, talked about, without any taboos

​

The grip of the trauma starts to let go

​

You can start to process, how far you can go

​

The social bond of the two

​

Recreates the future and history too.

​

Historical subject starts to move on

​

The grips of the past, cannot hold on

​

The fluent expression of your own being

​

Creates new connections, allows you clear seeing

​

As clear as a blind man can see

​

But the more you enquire

​

The deeper it may be

​

The question of fantasy, might tickle your heart

​

But as long as it's capitalism

​

Traversal of fantasy is either impossible

​

Or it will feel like a fight

Robotic machine humanoid, blood pumping

POETRY

Controlling your language feels like a key

​

Once you can catch it

​

It will never be free

​

Once your mind can be convinced

​

The second language, might feel more brilliant since

​

The seat of the ego is running the show

​

You should feel like you are in control

​

If batman would work through the death of his parents

​

His abilities to fight crime, might lose all it's bearings

​

So if the power to reach for revenge, is based on his trauma

​

Should he remove it?

​

Or without it, it would get boring?

​

At the most basis of things

​

We are a bunch of conscious, blood pumping machines

​

Negativity does run the show

​

Two opposing forces and you can't let them go

​

Fighting the split, between EGO and ID

​

Handcrafted Jewels and Medals you earned

​

Attached to the identity that is not even yours

​

Does the subject exists? Or nothing is yours?

​

You can choose what you want, but what you want was chosen for you

​

Where in this equation you feel it was YOU?

​

The one who obeyed what's chosen for you?

​

Or the one who have thought

​

It's me who select the choices for me or for you?

​

So in some sense you are an unconscious machine

​

To find your desire, you have to look deep within

​

Your desire might not be what you thought

​

It might be the opposition of what you always have thought

Scars on the face covered with a half-fa

POETRY

When I look at your face


I can see through the mask

​

You cannot hide the real


It appears in the gaps

​

In the gaps of your speech


And your mimicry too

​

Why not to take off that mask


There might be others, like you

​

But as long as you smile while crunching your teeth


It seems that the mask cannot hide the pain of the real

​

The real is the one who is attracting the dark


Even if you smile, at the end of the day, you end up in the dark

​

Do you think there's a way to remove all that dust


To take off the mask and throw it to dust

​

But what will you be?


Will your scars scare others away?

​

Is it loneliness you were afraid all the way


But maybe the mask is the one to be blamed?

​

You created that mask in demand of the fame


But the fame only fed your imaginary veil

​

What's behind all that veil?


Where is the truth?

​

Isn't your life the endeavour of running away from the truth


Hiding away, wearing thick leather boots

​

Aren't we all guilty of building big walls


To prevent the catastrophe of being heard

​

If you were born as a male


You have to pretend that you have it

​

If you were born as a female


You have to pretend that you are it

​

But if everyone takes off their masks


There will be a huge mess

​

So get back to the game


Hold on to that mask

​

Because without it my friend


You are a big mess

A robotic, chained and angry black mammo

POETRY

You sit in a cage


You speak with your kids through the glass

​

You just wanted to be more and give more


But ended up in the mess

​

Fighting a bear and a mammoth at once


You fall, crawl and then you stand up

​

The fight starts again


And the war will not ever end

​

You have to keep fighting until you lose once again


Lessons are painful but there is no mistakes

​

Fighting the mammoth


That's what it takes

​

Either you are proving to someone


Or to no one at all

​

Mammoth is waiting


Stand up and once again go to war

​

Your wounded and hurt and that's okay


Later on things will get worse

​

And that's also okay


As long as you're young

​

You can fight through the pain


When you will get old


Only the memories will remain

​

So fight for what matters to you


The engine of meaning the fuel to move

​

Fighting a bear and a mammoth at once


You fall, crawl and then you stand up

​

So should you approach everyday like you are at war?


Should you just chill and do nothing at all?

​

Two worlds are entangled


Two energies move​


The mammoth is waiting

​

It soon will get loose

Robotic humanoid psychoanalyst sitting i

POETRY

Skin made of polymer


Veins pumping blood

​

Falling through space


Feels like a flood

​

A creature, trapped in the prison of its own making


Remaking, restarting, reshaping.

​

Robotic limbs and skin made of plastic


Polymer surface and all kinds of attachments

​

Like Zima Blue, oxygen is not needed


On the essence of the universe, we do hook meaning

​

Spider web hanging within the confines of the limited time


Within that temporary space we are confined to the mind

​

The spider web is the symbolic representation of the temporal conscious experience


It's like a spider web, it does reflect its own meaning

​

Robotic bodies and silicone brain resolutions


Phallic authorities and blueish colour delusions

​

Metallic surface and wired brain


Even if it's polymer it does feel pain

​

Death is abstraction but it does exist


Even robots seize to exist

​

Biological experiments are now in the past


Today's religion is governed by wires and the high understanding of math's

​

Wireless connections and bionic integration of mind


Silicone consciousness and the higher order of life

​

World is still split between the rich and the poor


The eternal game that we all try to endure

​

Biological death belongs to the poor


The other extreme is the eternal life within a robotic silicone core

​

We have forgotten what it meant to be human


But we do keep them like pets

​

They supply us with real time emotions based on their fear of death


But we are machines, we observe them and we don't feel regret

​

Coding machines and teaching the slave's how to read


Mechanical structures of varying complexities and degrees

​

At the top of the hierarchy is the artificial intelligence


Any emotional intervention is viewed as simple human negligence

​

Last human groups are fighting for the old breed


But as long as we are mortals, we cannot succeed

A being standing in the futuristic desert, the holographic reality is visible in the dista

POETRY

In this temporal space


In between the two deaths

​

Wearing our bodysuits


Tearing off the neglects

​

Unconscious machines


Twisted in ways


Inexpressible fantasies are leading our ways.

​

How common it is, for you to say what you think?


Without adding a filter to attach to a narrative of what others think?

​

Which one of your thoughts is really your own?


Ideology got your mind and stopped all its growth.

​

In this space for the two in this little room


You can find your desire and detach yourself from the womb

​

Contradiction might lead your inexpressible ways


Without the colouring of your life, you might never find grace.

​

In the morning you are one and in the evening you are two


There is no consistency without an imagination oeuvre.

​

Filling the gaps with the knowledge and facts


The strategy of prevention was based on lack.

​

Stagnation of flow within neurosis 


Or the action of flow within psychosis

​

Advancement of consciousness might lead to reversal of time


Your past is in front of you, uncover your face, it is all in your mind.

Futuristic black room, the psychoanalyst sitting in a chair wearing a white mask, holding

POETRY

The law has been written

​

The choice has been made

​

There is no way back now

​

It's the analytical phase

​

The depth of your psyche is opening through

​

Unconscious material coming back with the flu

​

Before it gets better, it always gets worse

​

Not because it's the rule, but because of the knowledge, that has been lost

​

Trajectory and perspective might move towards change

​

Bodily movements and signifiers might be used for exchange

​

Lost knowledge, comes back with the bang

​

And words become, a material things

​

Whatever the story that you have been telling yourself

​

The story will be devoured in the name of, something else

​

The analyst sits there like a Hannibal Lecter within his or her chair

​

Ready to eat and devour all of the lies

​

The lies that you tell yourself, to keep the truth in disguise

​

Every truth is built on a lie

​

The truth has a structure of fictional kind

​

The end of analysis might seem like an empty plate

​

Which for years held your being, but now is dismantled, in order to change

Kandinsky vibe, psychoanalyst sitting in the chair, many faces around him, futuristic vibe

POETRY

Relics of childhood pain


Running through your biological structure


It lives in your veins

​

Different types of pills, for every kind of solution


While confined in a max of 100 year evolution.

​

Traditional medicine hasn't helped you, not yet.


You are like a donkey, running after the carrot, living in depth.

​

Like Achilles you are running after the turtle


But salvation is not coming, you might be running in circles.

​

Highly articulate gestures might not going to help


In the end as you know, Rome did have fell.

​

Building, constructing, realizing, adapting


Not letting anyone interrupt it.

​

Conspiratorial ideations and bipolarity fusion


All these opinions, create all the confusion.

​

Have children, take naps


Wear socks and avoid wearing hats

​

Take a trip, stay in the sun


Avoid getting hit, learn how to run

​

Priority boarding, but still in the same queue


Creating autonomy, but it is only meant for a rare few

​

Feeding the greed


Absorbing the feed

​

Transcending the past


Regulating the heart beat

​

Machine of biology, the slave of the past


Live stream thought archaeology, no free time to rest

A futuristic humanoid being with a black face mask sitting in the chair and holding a big

POETRY

He sits there alone, wearing a dark gown


Observing the world, controlling the crowd

​

He is there at all times, reflecting your speech


Controlling your mind, devoting his deeds

​

Before you say a word, you request it from him


The structure of thinking is kept in the dark there within

​

Have you ever thought why do you know how to speak?


Is language innate like Chomsky has thought?


Or does it come from outside, inflicting Lacan?

​

It sits there regardless watching us all


We call it "The Big Other", we got trapped ain't we all

​

The progression is moving bit by bit


We truly are functioning, within the Lacanian split

​

On one side you're conscious on the other, your deaf


Your being is split by the law itself

​

While one side wants sex


The other, says: please relax

​

While one wants to run


The other, sit down

​

The split itself is the middle ground


Without language you are lost, but within it, you are again found

​

Or if we allow ourselves to be more complex


Within the imaginary identification resides all the flex

​

Within the image, you are complete


While in reality, you try to keep the split quite discreet

​

The tension of being not a unified thing


The weight of that meaning you look for, outside of your skin

Glass wall separating man and woman, up

POETRY

Do you feel the same?
You know, driven insane
Like every Thursday, always the same.

I could try to say
But, as if there is a glass wall
In between the intersection behind which, you remain.

You are screaming out loud
But I can only see the condensation of warm air and pain
That is left on the intersection of the glass frame.

And behind it, there's you
Your eyes, are producing rain.

Condensation, is filled with purpose and pain
Your breath, is leaving a warm frame on the glass made out of pain

I can feel it and I draw a heart shape on to the glass frame
A heart shape, in the place of warm breath and the rain made of pain
The heart is made out of warm air and rain

And like magic, the sun rises in your eyes, always the same
There's no more anger, no more pain
Just a colourful rainbow made out residue of two souls on the glass frame

Two dark figures standing in the futuris

POETRY

Two dark figures, are standing there, in the dark

Spinning in circles, without making a sound 

 

Grounded in spirit, they are dancing, alone 

Surrounded by darkness 

And the mist, of the fatherless home 

 

Collapsing, disappearing and then reappearing 

Beings of darkness are quietly praying 

 

The law has been transgressed 

The old rules, are a non-operational mess

 

A new symbolic order, will soon emerge 

But it won't be governed by the paternal law's 

 

It's as if the mother is taking back all of her kids 

And the fathers authority, is becoming a mist 

The children of earth, want to live free 

 

You remember those days 

When the law was the basis of the dynamic rhythm of life 

 

The binary symbols, the opposition between the day and the night 

We are collectively taking a serious flight 

A flight towards new dynamics and rules 

 

But, without opposition 

We will become 

A bunch of Non Integrated fools 

Who completely transgressed the rules 

 

Psychotic participators 

Of life's reality show 

Where the winners are those 

Who accumulated, the most 

 

Can you blame those, who got tired of this binary game? 

In the world of the father

Those who cannot participate and perform 

Will be sent away 

 

A non-integration will become a new thread 

With enough little threads 

You can create a full trend 

 

But no matter how long will it take 

The sons of the earth will come back to the father 

If they don't want, to be driven insane 

Hearts are floating in the ocean, man an

POETRY

On the sparkling ocean
Our hearts are floating
While the two of us
Are looking for deep devotion

​

And the sense of winter comes over
As if, you are saying
I can feel the cold, coming over


And then it's dark again
And no words, can be said
As if everyone on this planet, were dead

​

Then, we are sitting on the cliff
You are holding my hand
And you say:
If we slip, together, we slip!

​

And we slip, together, as if
We fall, down below
Just in order to wake up
And say to each other - that was WOW

​

Now it's the beach, the sun and the moon
We are next to the ocean
Observing all this, from the birds eye view
Just me and you

​

In the morning, you wake me up
Just to tell me, that you, were up
And my reaction is
"This is the perfect way to wake up"
Then, as always, you laugh

​

Then winter comes over again
It's cold, the planet is dead
We become two governing bodies, instead
Falling separately, while I am standing ahead

​

There was a man and a woman
You remember? Back in the old days
A Man loved his woman
A Woman loved her man
But today, they changed their genders, instead

​

Man surrendered his phallus
And started wearing a dog leash
The woman was working
While her man, stayed at home, with the kids, while wearing a dog leash

​

Whole world went upside down
Immutable distance between fantasy and reality

Came over, with the sunshine

​

Then the camera angle changes
We are in the future, It's 2176
You remember the old stories?

​

The old story's of man loving a woman
And a woman loving her man
These stories are taught at universities now

By truly feminine men

​

Earth have achieved
The highest concentration of lawlessness and compassion
But on the planetary level
We are still winning
In the realm of displeasure and passion

Three heavily armoured beings standing o

POETRY

Tormented spirits crawl in the dark
Three heavily armoured beings standing on the edge of the car 

​

Shimmering whispers can be heard from afar
Engravings on their armour says "we are awake and alone in the dark".

​

Tormented spirits crawl while wearing big fake smiles
But their body language, is giving them out.

​

Tormented spirits have accepted their fate
They will incarnate again and again, to smile through their pain.

​

The truth of their spirit is buried in torture
But only three heavily armoured beings are refusing to function.

​

The three beings are the embodiment of an enlightened mind
Their rebellion, represents the disgust of the ordinary slave mind.

​

Three of them standing there and watching the crowd
While tormented spirits are crawling around.

​

Three soldiers decided to go after the truth
But they only got armour and hearts made of youth.

​

Their weapons are crafted to align to their polymer bodysuits
Bulletproof kevlar plating will allow them to stand against the enemy, who wants their youth.

​

Youth is the sign of the drive towards rebellious change
While the old tormented beings just accepted their fate.

​

Three soldiers have tried to awaken some of the crawling crowd
But the tormented beings are completely taken in by the system
There is no way out

​

The crawlers attack you if you aren't crawling together with the slimy crowd
Three soldiers are completely outnumbered, they are in the dark.

Robotic future, futuristic environment,

POETRY

We are in the future, we got artificial blood
Disease and death ain't a thing anymore
But neither is love

​

Universally different, but particularly the same
Still running on egos, but artificially made

​

Even the language is different,
On the newest models, It doesn't function the same

​

Everything is open to interpretation and more imagery based
It's almost like talking through thoughts
But as if, not using words

​

Robotic silicone silence and no sight of love
Pure machinery, which expresses man's desire to overcome God


Radical human alterity expressed in the metallic robotic core

While drinking artificial blood
People ain't singing to God anymore

Strong lonely tree standing in the wind

POETRY

You are climbing a peak on a minimal sleep
You are from a poor background, your daddy's a thief

​

You wear shitty trainers on your way to your school
Your Daddy's a drunk in the corner of the main room.

​

Nobody has taught you, how to read and you can't fall asleep
There is too much anxiety
There is too much indeed.

​

You cannot follow your father's footsteps
He is an illiterate male,
A victim, of his own childhood pain.

​

His dad was also a drunk
And he also, was not able to read
Apples, do not fall far away from the trees.

​

The time is now, to break all the chains
And to learn how to leadingly read
As a subject you are, completely alone, indeed.

​

Your loneliness can teach you
About the struggles of life

​

From now on, work on creating philosophy
That will develop, into a strong breed

​

Do not follow in ways that don't benefit you
My son, you are alone now
But in your mind, I'm with you

​

I observe what you do and I follow your ways
I am your superego voice
You are locked in the fatherly cage.

​

I know you have been trying to minimize my demise
But I am the prohibition, without me, you cannot survive.

​

I am the part of the structure
That holds sanity in the correct place

Repressed in mysterious ways

​

Without my existence
The structure, goes berserk in million ways

​

I am the pillar
That made you grow deep into the ground

​

On those windy days, you can relax
Wind is too weak, To rip you all out

Rich, masculine man, standing with a bea

POETRY

In the original game of the phallic corruption
The boy with all the toys, wins without question.

​

The one who dies, with the most toys
Takes all the fame
Becomes an ideal, to the rest of the boys.

​

The package is simple - family, kids, cars, money and fame
But the girl, who sexually attracts you, has to be out of the original family game.

​

She cannot belong to the original reflection or frame
Fantasy is the embodiment of the original, double game.

​

The ideal of the virgin Mary, is the wife type
The ideal of Madonna, is the real hype.

​

The confusion in the masculine mind

In between the Madonna and the Saintly kind

​

She was cute and petite
As a virgin Mary would be

​

She was the one
The Bride to be.


But, somewhere down the line

You have realized


All you truly want
Is the hype.

​

Bipolarity district, between thoughts and intentions
Compilation of your emotionally insufficient dimensions

​

She kissed a frog and there you go, it's a Prince
But the prince only wanted to satisfy his Etheric wings.

​

Can you blame them?
For the communication, that was not fair.

​

In her mind, she only wanted to change him
But he, was phantasmatically fair.

​

Slight relationship malfunction
In the name, of the fantasy function.

​

A feminine and masculine being sitting i

POETRY

In the matters of the heart 

We feel weak 

When we are apart 

 

Once we get together 

Peace in our hearts gather 

And we fly, together 

 

For weeks or for days 

Until the occasional rains

We fight for a bit 

 

But just to make the situation 

A little more spicy, a bit 

You know you have a cold feet   

 

You enjoy wearing my jumper and a worm socks  

But I only think about your freckles 

And leaving you, wearing only socks  

 

My conservative ideological mind 

Gets a chance to breath and relax 

When I feel your feminine soul, next to mine 

 

And during those moments 

When existence itself, isn't kind 

I look at your picture 

And remember 

Those freckles, she's mine.

 

Once I enter your house 

I can take off the batman suit 

And leave the weapons aside 

 

Your eyes are a saintly kind 

It makes me think think about 

What angels look like 

 

Like a meeting of two beings

One with freckles, a saintly kind 

And the other, a conservative mind 

With the weapons, aside 

 

That feeling turns off the gravity in my mind 

I look into your eyes 

And remember how angels look like 

​

Within each new incarnation

We are wearing different bodies, each time

While constantly looking, for each others mind

Soul's never lie 

Strong, white man with black hair and a

POETRY

We have met in a dream 

One long live stream 

 

We have been looking for each other 

Could it get any better 

 

Meetings outside of the dream realm were quite different 

Detailed miniatures of our thoughts 

Actualized in reality as the feelings of warmth 

 

Sitting in silence together 

Thinking about each other 

 

You start losing your heart beat 

Once life pulls us apart 

I'm dead forever, when we aren't together 

 

Two tortured beings 

Tortured by separateness 

And the heaviness of hidden feelings 

 

You hug me and say that you love me

Then you push me away and say that you hate me 

 

We have to come to terms with the fact 

That as long as we are alive 

We have to stay apart 

So in our fantasy, we could stay together, forever 

 

Holes in our hearts 

Works as the mechanisms of attraction 

But those same holes are creating friction 

 

While the worldly opinions are preaching - "love forever" 

We said to each other - "let's hate this place together"

Darkness feels better, together 

 

Once the illusion of "love forever" has been dismantled 

Hating this place together, felt so much better 

 

In the world of perfectly well mannered people 

We managed to stay animalistic in front of each other 

Only wearing human mask's, in front of others 

 

You would hold my hand and say to me:

"I hate them all" 

I would look at you, smile and say to you: 

"I hate them all as well" 

Our dark souls would naturally push everyone away 

The dark universe of our thoughts 

Would stay alive, in that way 

Dark figures are standing in a circle around the grave, futuristic vibe.jpg

POETRY

Digging our graves
While standing in the dark
Infinity isn't a threat
Because all of it
Will inevitably fall apart

​

We stand in silence
While imagining sound
Which is cracking our broken hearts
While everything is falling apart
We stand alone, in the dark

​

Apocalyptic hurricanes
And pulsating flames of fire
While without making a sound
We stand there, alone in the dark

​

Man wearing a dark coat
Is digging the grave of desire
While devouring the flames of fire

​

Everyone is given a chance
To express their last words
Before the darkness of infinity
Does it's part and takes us all apart
By sending us into a place
Where there is no difference
Between being close or afar

​

All these years we have spent in this place
While knowing deeply in our hearts
That separateness was a lie


I will miss my wife
I will miss my kids
I will miss my friends
I will miss my family
Repeated the voices coming quietly from the dark

​

Different expressions of truth
Standing in a circle
Waiting for the ultimate reboot
While the earthquakes around them
Are shaking the earth

​

Hope, was everyone's Mother
And the law, was the Father
The dark circle of beings
Were the last one's alive
Observing the approach of the ultimate darkness

A black woman and a white man with a black hair are sitting in the snow, futuristic vibe.j

POETRY

You and me were playing in the snow
It was a trembling winter
It was cold

​

Snow was melting around us, you know
Two hearts produce heat, better than sitting alone
While it is trembling cold

​

The fire of a double desire
Never goes cold
Warmth and it's theatrical show

​

Grounding our spirits while pushing negativity far away
You were the reason, why I could go to sleep, without pain
Covered in the caring flame of your feminine gaze

​

Life felt absurd without a proper aim
While the actuality of that aim
Was targeted towards you, always, therein

​

Like two shining crystals
We would shine to each other, there, in the dark
Two best friends, holding each other's heart's
Melting all of the snow around us

​

In order to grow, we had to stay apart
At the right time, life pushed us back
Into the flames of the heart
We knew it was destiny
We knew it, deep in our hearts

A masculine white man with black hair wearing a robotic mask is hugging a beautiful black

POETRY

It is dark in my head
Metal bars and heaviness, I feel dead

​

But most of the time
I think about you, instead

​

You are a flower
Made out of tortures red thread

​

We are dancing on water
While dead bodies are floating, ahead

​

We are the darkness, we are death
Instead of kissing, we bite into each others neck

​

Is that your red lipstick?
Or I can see my own death?

​

We hide from the day light
So we can live in the night

​

We might both need serious medical attention
But I cannot say that
While your teeth are in my neck

​

On our first date
We were joking around about death

​

Since the beginning, we knew
Our pain, was the connecting thread

​

But so far, we are more alive
Rather than dead

​

Your mother, was not fully equipped with a capability of expressing love
That's why you are the sexiest vampire, I have ever met

​

Go ahead, bite into my neck
I want to watch you smiling, again

​

Bodily perfection with a cute mental reconfiguration
Two bodies, made under tension

​

Constantly shouting at each other
Please give me attention

World visible from afar with lots of vampires standing in circles, futuristic vibe.jpg

POETRY

Moving in circles
Triadic, minimal rearrangements

​

Producing a nuthouse
Where people, gather to focus

​

Landing on rough surfaces
Crowded organisational edifices

​

Testosterone based existence
Creating a lot of friction

​

Prohibition and pleasure
Comes into movement together

​

They dance, as if they truly are partners
Desire and prohibition

​

Passengers of this realm
Gathered, to discuss a non-material wealth

​

Incarnation after incarnation
All the passengers, repeated their existence

​

Passengers noticed certain repetitive patterns
Patterns that went on and on, incarnation after incarnation

​

Human desire for power, was one of them
While the second one, was sexuality

​

A repetitive, collectively organized hallucination of human consciousness

​

Our human existence within this realm of passengers piloting these meat vehicles
Consisted mainly of desire to make love and desire to have more

​

Consciousness itself was naturally moving towards higher and higher levels of refinement of itself via the consciousness of the passengers within this realm

​

The passengers, pilot's of the meat vehicles - human beings
Were the agents which were playing the role of refinement of consciousness via the experience of being a human being

​

War after war, destruction after destruction
We all collectively, would inevitably move back, towards the invention of liposuction

​

Our animalistic nature which is entangled with sexuality
Would drag us back, back to the animal kingdom
Where bodily movements and sexual desires takes over
This cycle of desire and sexuality kept us attached to the ground, while the work of consciousness ascension was to transcend

​

Transcendence of everything that we have held to be human
Consciousness was moving towards the higher levels of mental existence
Levels, that only exist in the mind and rejects the bodily attachment to the animalistic kind of the mind
While our neurotic, animalistic nature was fighting for its right to exist

​

Intellect said - No
The body said - Yes

​

So, all the vampires were performing their dance
Biting each other, while dancing in circles
Love and blood was what moved all those circles

​

Humanity danced in union
An organism of collectively neurotic sexuality

​

In their gathering  passengers realized
That it is an eternal prison of consciousness


The divine madness, the fact that it will never end

God's, humans and vampires were dancing together
Everyone knew that we are trapped, together 


The Gods were as trapped as humans were and vampires were as trapped as Gods were

It was, is and will be a divine comedy, the comedy of existence


Sadness, sex and laughter were the gifts given to human beings
Immortality and eternal youth was the gift given to Vampires
And everything else belonged to the God's

​

But God's existed in the realm of the ether

Which did not require a limited, biological meter

While sexuality was trapped in the biological realm

Etherical God bodies enjoyed voyeuristically - via the human realm

​

​

​

A realm made of vibration, quantum mechanics vibe.jpg

POETRY

Vulnerable creatures
With humanly features

​

No one has eyes
There's only feelings and minds

​

A blind world
With an exceptionally good vision

​

Filled with vulnerable creatures
With humanly features

​

Truth is felt via the mechanism of sense of smell
Beauty is felt via the mechanism of intellectual wealth

​

Vibrational field of the voice
Creates the ripple effect
The field, in which the human body could be seen and enjoyed

​

Because we don't have eyes
We see through the voice
A vibrational model design

Which is seen through the mind

​

It is a place of no lies
A place of vibrational beauty
Which is designed in the mind

​

Because the vibrational field is created via the voice
There are no limits of distance
Which means instantaneous connections without any decoys

​

Whatever is said
Appears in the field

​

Lies could be smelled
They disrupt, the reality field

​

Bodily touch and the dimension of voice
Works in a union

It creates the realm
In which bodies and minds can enjoy

​

An emotional bliss

An appearance in time

​

A vibrational trip

An endeavor of mind

Dark room with black leather furniture, dark figures standing in front of the wall, faces

POETRY

Haunted souls hung their trophies on to the wall
It was human bodies
Either they hang or they crawl

​

Haunted souls stood there, in the dark
Sharing their stories, on leaving the mark
By invading human spirits, via their hearts

​

Haunted spirits lived in the realm between life and death
This realm, sets them apart
Because they can only be seen, after dark

​

Humanly pain and worst kind of emotions
Were the food of the soul's
It kept their realm in motion

​

Haunted souls were animalistic
Back in their human existence

​

Their lives were based on wealth
And the egoic servitude of their victims

​

The realm of darkness was built from humanly harshness
Cradles of hell stood next to the castles of darkness

​

Violence and pain
Standing covered in dust from the eternal flame
The materials, that were used to build this realm of pain

​

Haunted souls spent their free time
Observing human attachment to their big egos
While laughing at their delusion
Of the possibility to fight against evil

​

The Earthly realm wasn't created as the heavenly place
Tortured existence is hiding under the humanly face

​

Money and smiles are used in order to hide
To hide from the real, which is what you quietly feel

​

Is it madness that drove humans away from the truth
Or the truth that drove them mad?
Haunted souls enjoyed that, so bad

​

Alone on this earth, without an other
Humans forgot their humanitarian souls
They have left each other

​

Actors, stuck in biological machines
Acting their roles, without their ultimate destination, being revealed
Moving towards death, while acting, through life
Haunted souls knew, that we would act, as they like
Because Descartian evil demon is running in the back of our human mind

​

The trophies that haunted souls hung on their wall
Was our evil deeds that were done against us all

Futuristic Structures connected by wires, red and black colors.jpg

POETRY

Fragile but strong

​

Neither short nor tall

​

Strong, but barely holding on

​

Civilized or absolutely cannibalistic and wrong?

​

Proud or shallow, hollow or narrow?

​

Victorious or truly delusional and vividly shallow?

​

How do you catch the moment?

​

It slips and turns into torment

​

Sorry, why do you worry?

​

In that tormenting hurry

​

In order to catch the moment of the story

​

Sadness, compacted in the moments of glory

​

Finite amount of heart beats

​

Trying to find meaning, until the last beat succeedes

​

The road buried in fog

​

GPS systems takes us straight to the funeral home

​

Came out of nothing

​

And turned into something

​

Loneliness is the innate human condition 

​

Where the judgment and law

​

Are holding on to the invisible floor

​

A human art form

​

While living on the edge of the wall

​

Fractured and stitched up

​

An invisible wire holding the structure intact

Ascetic monk sitting in the snow and he is covered with a cage, it is winter, snowing.jpg

POETRY

A frightening throw
A destinies blow
Lying in the cold pile of snow

​

Cold, scared and alone
After receiving the destinies blow
Covered in snow, scared and alone

​

Cold winter and shivering nights
Creates lonely people
Those who go hunting at night

​

Clouded decisions and drugged up mind's
Most likely ends in disaster
The unfriendly kind

​

Built on brutish parental actions
And psychotic fatherly reactions

​

Selling drugs and using machetes
Thriving on becoming ascetic

​

Grown in cages further creates
Families, built on schizophrenic rage

​

Loud in public, but truly quiet within
Because psychic integration
Was built on psychotic, fatherly sin

​

Dark spots of the world
No love In there, only war
Beings, created for the true fall

​

Ascension to darkness
And low income mentality
Built on fathers low IQ personality

​

Brutish and mad, insensitive thread
Follows their children's lives, until the end

​

Slowly with age, you untangle the cage
Taking off the garments of rage
While still entangled in the mentality of the old age

​

Web of beliefs, predetermined it is
Until, at the certain time
You disavowed your old mind

​

Should you free yourself from the paternal law
If your childhood was based
On a psychotic fatherly flaw

​

What if the rabbit hole of your beliefs
Were based on the perverse fatherly Chiefs

Huge, dark futuristic castle, a person is standing  inside and looking through a window.jp

POETRY

In the imaginary Castle of madness
Exist beings, stuck in the cradles of sadness

​

Behavioural patterns
Based on non-humanitarian punishing actions

​

Punished by life
They have passed on the fright

​

People are afraid to talk to themselves at night
Because their madness is hiding in the dark, out of sight

​

The castles of madness are the conscious experiences of people who are running from inner pain

​

Every castle is built with a separate twist
Some twists are based on disaster
While others on wit

​

The personal prisons of humanly mind
Each castle based its existence on running away from deeply repressed time

​

When humans meet
It's the madhouses that speak

​

Smiles hide the graveyard of the mind
While speech reveals what is buried 6 feet underground

​

Supercharged with sexually charged parental emotions
Emotionally unavailable and basing their lives on sexually promiscuous notions

​

Delighted for a week
In hate for a month
Remembering how Dad was beating up Mom 

​

And the same pattern comes up
You might be 40
But truly you are a middle aged child
Which is functioning on the compensatory fantasy which was invented when you were 5

​

And it worked for a long time
But now, you would like to stop time
Step out of the train and jump on a new ride
But how can you do it?
If the new ride is in the same mind

​

The ride is the one of the fantasmatic kind
You can call it divine
But truly, it is a language based hallucinatory trip Through the signifiers of time
Historically placed in the back of your mind

​

Burning with desire to be projected on to the outside world which is functioning within time

Castles of madness hold the secrets behind the walls of the mind

​

Hidden in basements, tortured and killed
They fly, when it is time to pretend in front of the owner's of other castles, existing in time

A psychoanalyst sitting in the leather chair while wearing a dark mask, behind him there i

POETRY

Chaotic, psychotic, perverse or neurotic
Repressively tortured
Emotionally nurtured
Forgotten and once again vultured

​

Passive aggressive
Remotely delivering passion
Without integration
Psychotically structured

​

Hysterically nurtured
Divided by passion
Neither of two, can manage attention

​

Perverse breaker of rules
While she was attached
To leading the blind and believing in fools

​

The structure cannot be changed
You can understand it
But you will definitely stay fully deranged

​

Mechanical pain
Deliberately made
Paranoiac ideation or realistically framed

​

Mentally stable but boring
Is it clairvoyance?
Or just a projection of deeply repressed worries

​

How do you know?
While in your mind, you are alone

​

Just an appearance in time
Disappeared in the all encompassing mind
Enthusiastic desires based on unresolved inner fires

​

Once it's resolved
It becomes Samadhi
Without structural basis for fires

​

You had a life
Built on the reactionary fantasy which was in control of your mind
Then you realized, that the fantasy
Was the only thing that kept you attached to the world of a lie

​

Then the most beautiful part comes, You Die

​

And then you might start living a life
Which wasn't based on the inner disaster which was hiding inside

​

This whole time
An analyst was sitting in front of you
With the smile in his eyes
He devoured your being
His job was to watch you, while your fantasy died

​

Now you can go
With a choice of your own
To live, or to die
To enjoy, or to cry

​

After this realization, you cannot get back inside
Fantasy doesn't feel like home anymore
Earlier it felt like a blanket
Now, it's just a haunted house

​

In silence, an analyst allowed you, to philosophically die
He watched you burn, from inside
It's a new day now, sunrise was behind the death of your mind


You are attached to nothing
There is no big Other
In the end, nobody is getting out of this, alive
It's your choice, it's your life

Surrealist robotic face splint into many pieces, ebony polymer surface, emotion, pain, scr

POETRY

The unrepresentable Real
A disastrous feel
Within an identification with a non-lacking ideal

​

The unspeakable feeling after disaster
Is the Real in it's true action
The proof, that our identity is maladaptive

​

Every fiction hides a black hole underneath
The black hole, is the Real
If you slip you might fall into an unassimilable hole
It's hell there, you know

​

Your analyst has been there, in the dark hole of the soul
That is why he is here, watching you falling into it, alone
In the gaze, of another soul
After the fall, you might build something which is worthy of a new goal

​

Creatures of darkness
Stuck, within the walls of attachment
Whispering quietly into your ear
It's Time, you should go, nobody is waiting for you at home
And it is dark, within your soul

​

Smiles aren't real
They are hiding the Real
Symbolic construction and narcissistic appeal
Tortured beings hidden underneath the fantasmatic ideal
Extrapolating the Real
A masterpiece of being brave and concealed

​

It's a rainbow, you might feel
But what I see, is the Real
What's important, is hiding beneath the colourful mass appeal
Keep the illusory ideal for the Instagram reel
Put your cards on the table
Let's see the core, while interrogating the Real

​

Inconsistent and shattered
Decaying, biological matter
Underneath make-up and glitter
Shame, guilt and torture eaten by vulture's

​

Down below the causes are grown
Down below, within the depths of your soul
Within darkness, which you yourself, never thought, you have known

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