Tunnel

I started thinking that ‘love’ is evil

vengeful

it’s hate

it’s murderous

so I’ll forget this whole business

and go

to meet

Karakoram mountains instead

or something like that

for a while

before I get back to dreadful London

to deal with all this deathly business

of

flowers

Advertisement

LOVEWAR

All this darkness
is gone
can’t believe there is light
and everything is illuminated now in London

not dark alleys
the passions of mystery

normal day
Highbury fields
quiet

can’t believe what was happening in those places at nights

parallel life

secret incognito

undercover

agents of opposite forces

kissed and clashed

nobody knows about it
hash

the result of the love-war is unclear

it is possible that still there is a stronghold

with forces gathering and ready from both fierce directions

and that the battle is finished but war is raging on

with double force

The Verge

If I could understand why my mind sways
why it is not satisfied with surface existence
creating mystery and mischief
illegalities
why it is not real in spiritual emptiness
why it needs danger and complications
adventures on the London bridge
the night
the kiss
on the verge of the Tamise

why
can’t it concentrate deeply
on cooking in the domestic cauldron
why my mind
flies
to your lips

This is a war, honey – what a shame.

It was a dream about us being those special sandpit friends

in a nice love-unity

and joy

of building something

together

without hitting each other with a spade on the head

and scheming to destroy your underground tunnels

when everything seemed to go great

conspiring with the district gang

how to win over me

I had a dream of us being different then them

But those things are impossible

how could I forget that you are the only child

all this mistrust

and

ego trips

I retreat

to the very end of the park

to talk with the sunshine instead

and play with pebbles and dirt

but then

the anger at your murderous betrayal

hits me

so

I

watch you and your gang

delaying my revenge

don’t you think I forgot

about hate

not yet

JIHAD in Barnet

 

You need to understand me
you are just a white whore
you, and your yoga pornography
I hear it everyday
It’s not my fault
That’s how it is
I am a man
34
I can import myself a young Asian from abroad
and teach her how to behave
at 50 or so one day                                                                                                                        when I get a job
I’m an attractive man
and you
I can have you when I feel like it
I am a man
you need to understand me
I am a man
and you are a white whore
what is love
I really don’t know
I fear you might expose me
you will ruin my name
I have already told everyone and my mother
that you are dangerously insane
like princess Diana and all the white whores
hungry for mediterranean men

Midnight, too late to go home

what is love a compassion a connection of souls at the bottom of existence
why do you need any more explanations
the ability to see yourself in the other bum
without judgement
last passion insanity of the senses
despite the darkness of the park where all this is happening
in the night
in secrecy
dirty love lust
you can call it that
but for me this is life
this is a beautiful encounter
of truth
without the world and day coming into it and spoiling
our secret forbidden love
with broken heels and lost iPhones
in the trees of passion
eternal under the British sky
who cares if they judge us
it is us its ours its our love our need our compassion
the bitches with masculine harsh words
and the successful machos
who cares
why can’t we die in those leaves
but happy on this bench at midnight

Stepping down into the darkness of light

Sometimes I think :  take this gun from that wall and fire it out
out of boredom to shoot this glass
sylvia plath hedda gabler
hedda gabler sylvia plath

it is all so slow and draining
the snow is raining

i had hope for everything now it is gone
i want the words to be like leafs convoluted and wild
exotic plants

and you
a heavy being I can’t live without
but don’t know what to do with
the childhood is gone
and now
the long days going to autumn
the road in the park muddy
i am slowing down
what happened

As You slip into the climate change hole again

I am as empty as you

no talent for reality

money, mortgage, plans

mortgage sounds like morgue to me

it’s the fear of death which killed us

our spirit

but this emptiness loves you

it cares about you

no need to worry then

before it was

a grey-hate black madness

this emptiness is alive now somehow

and your voice is everything

let’s believe in it

you are the first person

who was able to

achieve anything in it

and even when I’m angry

it doesn’t mean a thing

love or climate change

love

please come back from the extinction

please