two deaths away
the river swept by me with its neighboring trees
I was the forgotten death
wandering around with bodiless families
I resurrected in humane war
I was scared of my skull aline with that shovel
among the scenery approaching
prickly compassion preoccupied with its anxiety
Munch welcomed me
such an opening for me
turns out I was dying too much the plainness I caught
who asks if I am dead or alive
among that scenery I should have stayed
Cezanne knew me
chased in theory role
in the middle of the sky began Brancusi
his bird perched in my time too
he made me do the magnificence closest to him
of what has happened so far
I looked for a way out
I was alone de rigueur
where will I be who will I be
says the one that pierced the scenery
know that it washed ashore
the question awaiting its anger
suddenly became arbitrary
I was a miracle with my sun
suddenly became devoid of days
became devoid of you
went as far as I could
no one along the lines
someone no one
short road none no none yes none
I can rebuild
we were what the world dreamed of
childhood of my emptiness
its broken old piece
piece of its piece
its unbroken last piece
millennia came down to morrow
suddenly such a sky
suddenly reached the unthought
suddenly unable to feel
unable to touch
ask what will be the first
whispers and then common
the promise in its equation
ocean sank onto the sun
roaming memories united
suddenly unable to die
unable to reproduce
unable to be perished
unable to be erased
unable to be seen
I said any you to any me
suddenly deemed insignificant
deemed all alone
pour out from the melody’s tip
go mad hum shine get spilled forget
gone mad shined got spilled forgot
did I touch the unforeseen
suddenly became marginalised
she said no war no one
suddenly became nameless
my sky a shaker
she said fight on the unseen stage
suddenly became mute
unable to be drifted away
unable to cry
unable to remember
I said whatever happens
suddenly became undistanced
unable to be reached
unable to be shown
unable to be encounterd
suddenly calmed down
drank the ocean dumped onto sun its monster recognize
did you not was there your mind reaching everywhere all at
once thru the aimless paths of the disorganizer buried in its
membrane turn on the wiper your inside from your outside
drifting away scattering around among the ones unable to
be courage of your arbitrariness just veered away from the
commandment to be able to be to be able to reproduce to be
able to die I am slipping mountains rubbed mountains two up
one down upside down your buried light damp inside broken
ashes in a sudden tide you were shoved from your pretended
gaze into the unjacked darkness you embraced the blade of
cursed grass in the middle of nowhere to and fro face to face
untie yourself afloat find the feckless play the last game no end
you have no end so that divide the shameless by two by four
by eight how to return on its own now a new gate but you can’t
begin as if nothing happened
it has no clue of being dead
Caravaggio should relive
ones roaming without leaves ones roaming without soil
searching for the question searching for the monster I am the
one wearing away I am the one coming from above coming
from below I am the one following myself I am the one
crashing into ruffian me
ocean graves ships unable to get away day a repetitive
hammer who puts out a hand crying a little is hard killed
myself very pleased someone new comes along aimless
in the thirst days of the corrupt temptress of distances the
night mated with fear the day-counter from its chain was
thrown from the sailboat drank the ocean dumped onto the
sun who was being swept around in the moonlight while the
wind slept knew the halley’s dust
but that melody ripples among the flower and war
2008 i fell here passing through the meteorites that were stopped for me.
you’ve always been here, but not yet aware of me.
2005 the rose that can not blossom in the emptiness.
the inside of my exterior has substituted me.
and unless tomorrow is adjacent to tonight
the opposite of my opposite is next to me.
2002 the surrounding is urban gray,
the surrounding is common fear,
the surrounding is people,
borrowed leather is on me.
2001 what was it that the leaf wanted:
ember for snow,
soil for water,
the below that can sense falling,
the above that can touch,
a tree with blood circulation,
"2" separate firsts for the "1" that can not advance.
in the past few days, it seemed like there is no light,
is the smell of my leaf withheld even from the bottom of my root?
be incapable of reducing to yourself.
do not be found with me.
be incapable of working to advance.
2000 come and cry from my eyes.
1999 my corner is assigned.
I should be able to be seen, believing in my new shape,
with the humming noise attached to my future.
1998 if I could be rescued from my darkness,
I would not have been able to lose myself,
don’t be the visible interior to me,
don’t be the noticeable exterior to me.
1998 was I lost in the past where I was able to escape?
could you appear there on your own to me,
if I could cry further in the past as well?
1998 i am waiting for the move further from myself.
as well as my past with my un-transporting needs;
also waiting for me who hasn’t met you yet.
1997 i was expecting to be water from everything;
with indistinctive, unnoticeable, unmemorable melting.
i was saying that my chains too shall be made of water.
1997 did I move to its bottom while I was collapsing on myself?
could I have been attached to its root?
if water and soil is residual,
would I have been able to return to myself?
1996 while I was hiding in my root, I was suddenly overset,
as I was presenting my self-gnawed state to myself, I stopped.