bring the man back

bring the man back to his diligence

don't depersonalize

I thought I'm erasing one face

It was only to start with the next following lines

this picture of us that picture of them

 we won't understand

nor in the the present nor in the future tense

bring the man back to his diligence

---

filled with pus
consumed by the cold

to myself:

and yes you fool

on your behalf

everything

is permanent

.

i'm a snapshooter

and i'm not that blue
and i'm not that green
and i'm not that good
at slowing down
my inner speed

\\\\\\

the black chronicle

is a chronic track 

a path in the low skies

leading to

lower ground 

low mankind

monsters drew as flute players

here I am

avoiding

conserving 

presuming 

ruined

recovered

clean

stained

loving

amain

h.

purple 

stain

under 

my

nail

tearing open

this itchy heart

again

-

I wanted to stop myself from being serious paranoid crude
walking on toes
keeping myself quiet
swimming where's dry
in a closed circle
in that narrow square
bored
drunk
with soft knees
with a sore throat
having weak wrists
behind a high wall
behind that gray blocks
on the second floor

I thought that I need
someone to laugh at my jokes
someone who kiss the place where I slept
one who sings only to see me dancing

born to tear and sew his own buttons

for one second
none of this above doesn`t matter

when I cringe and I think for myself as for the tiniest thrown stone
as for the worst dream
or the worst choice you've ever made


I don't want to be anything worse than I already am

but I'm bad just enough


now I am the mud
under the nails of one word
under the heaviest
tiniest
stone

r a n d o m

clarity
decided
hysterical
truck

angle

never seen

oval

never filled

built this whole feeling
tall as your step
deep as your voice
and i left

vanishing
the only cause
for not breathing

take me where all cars are sleeping
and all trees are awake

---

She is constantly imagining that she's someone's bad dream.
and now she is not awake
must be the reason why she's not wearing her slippers
and feels cold seeing her nails pale-blue
a delicate and frightening color

And she is constantly feeling guilty for not daring...
And not knowing what to dare - the guilt hangs like a wet cloth on her back
in the terrible cold outside, because that's what she puts on her shoulders
or may be the cold outside was dreamed by somebody else?
Or she is the cold in the dream of an innocent, chased man
and she's constantly afraid
have you noticed that word 'constantly'
we know so little about it
it's rarely friendly with us, it's not a word that sits and discuss its daily life with you
However
...So she is constantly afraid of how people will wake up from her as if she's a dream
Waking up relieved for she's no longer their dream
and nothing of what she has caused them never happened
It's like with you
when you do something great and see it
in a little while crushed
under the wheels of a powerful car
spinning slightly as a butterfly
crushing lightly and passing over the great 'deed'

She is imagining all the wrong things,
phone numbers written backwards on her hands..
Falling asleep
with her forehead leaning the payphone
that speaks to her with monotone drone
Monotony is another side of constancy but more accessible and more conversational ...
Monotony is getting along with dreams although they can`t continue forever
There are also known some short forms of monotony which means the same repetitive tone
Some people always speak to us with the same tone ...when they didn't get much of a sleep
or they sound awfully equally when they are hungry
just wonder why they can't hear this unbearable note in their voice
They would change it themselves ... without someone to start speaking to them with a changed timbre
Timbre..of sleep
The timber of other people's sleep...
She was afraid of the mess she creates for them in their sleep
In daytime she is walking incurring heavy woolen conscience, conscience- starched collar, conscience-coat, conscience-linen, conscience-boots, conscience-heavy as scarlet plush
Something observable from afar so they can easily indicate it, point at
This is also a thing that you may not endure In the moments of light...
before a ceremonial shame surrounded by family and parental care and parental negligence, friendly insouciance, friendly intrusiveness - eyesore for all audiences abiding our fears ..
our dreams ...
'What did you dream, my dearie?'
the mother asks her child who wakes up with drowning scream ...
and here it is - the fear to tell is already born
The fear to tell what was there, everything that was, everything you are
This fear will start walking in the winter streets and mocks about the rubber platforms the metal heels or linen scarves, will mock about the rabbit tails of those pretty individuals and their long, but not enough long front legs

----

brain/brainless from foxe on Vimeo.

it's my brain in a plastic bag
it's my spoon
in a dirty empty cup
it's this mouth
my mouth
and the words you threw
and the way you shut it
It was a moment
that could last forever
if we weren't so short
if we weren't so different
if we weren't so us

it's my brain in a plastic bag
kids playing with it under the sun
elder playing with it after sunset
it's my brain over there
OVER THERE

speaking over your shoulder
sparkling over the past 24 years
sparkling
in spite of the white plastic bag

7

The first door of the dream

- I'm surrounded by fog ... I don`t know how to divide it

It will slowly go away from me, and yet
I wouldn't know
if I am haunted


Second door of the dream:

Quickly I'm leaving the city
whose eyes are crying
whose hands can not reach
Weather's so quiet but I wish there was wind
to blow her hair and hide her teary eyes


Third door of the dream:

I realize your existence
your hand on mine
makes it whiter

We are two completely identical worlds
when we finally see it - we'll be no longer alike


Fourth door of the dream:

I'm traveling between white slender trees

I need
I have such need to conceal all whiteness
snuggle up between you trees
and bend

My father 
My mother
My older sisters
I'm walking between them
Silence quenched me
I'm understood


Fifth door of the dream:

I can see the traces which I haven't left yet

I'm treating the disease before I get ill

I love before falling in love

I am traveling


Sixth Door of the dream:

I'm filling my breasts with you
Quietude
Nothing superfluous

Your warm breath in a cup of milk
(I want to become one with it)
While the city corrodes
under tons of lactic fog


Seventh gate of the dream:

 I'm losing my sleep
my dream is dissolving over you
I bend 
softly kissing your knees

The fog
returns into the body
I didn't know I was free to leave

I didn't know I might be the one
who's chasing it

-

good luck, small submarine
don't go anywhere
just carry away more often
before their eyes
where nothing happens
you exist there
whole - comprehension
muddling the water
of their understanding
they will see more often the dirt
and not you..

it's needless to say 'Never'
we're shorter than that 'never'
leaders of the shadows
sandmen
dreamers

gluey in that second
and then you slid out of their beds and houses
slid out ..escaping their standpoints, numbers,
dodge from their favourable faces
dodge from your burden
dodge behind the outlines of the cities
slipping out slow wind
slow returning of the ingredients

escaping the hunger, the thirst..
fingers sliding from the cup
broke up with them
broke up with all needs

bye
when you say goodbye
to those who lived with a short slip of unconscious courtesy
those real faces of people you lived behind
and you drunk cyanide with and hided rough gemstones with
divide them!
ciao bella
/special list with greetings/

it's all about your credulity to steal the smile
and the whole time for smiles of one single person
that you believed you need

good luck little submarine
you stood long enough

anticipation
is
rising

..

Am I not
Result of a vision
Laughter in the mirror
Verse in the dark
Voices
In twilight
Known
And cursed
For the same reasons

Am I not
your girl
always touched
to ensure
your existence
The one who reached
your
vision
illusion
the first taste of a girl

Am I not
fruit
house of a worm
after your leaving

he:
the hardness of the soft sounds
endless line
cardiac
bloody
nervous
an order

his embrace -
fractal
allowed
on the border
of our returning

<<<>>>

so as to know everything ...she's not asking anything

the secret shall be entered slowly ...
as it has become part of me
I will become part of it
when it moves away - I will proceed
when secret make a move then I will step back
The secret knows this dance
better than us


don't spill the beans
do not say -'that's what I am',
do not say 'I'm going to give you that dream'
because my dreams and yours are not just circulation coins
you will wake up in me while I'm falling asleep in you
and this discrepancy
already cost us a lot

---
I am not leaving the house
The key goes alone
going out for a walk
then unlocks
and tells me
how was it there
where I weren't

the key slept two days
hanged on the neck of a boy
learned many games
now it has stories
at least for a week

I am not leaving the house
the key goes alone
and sometimes it does not return

I'm not giving-away
when jealous
oh no
I don't protrude
when I dream
how I'm gone
and how to get back
I don't know

0

I couldn't lose you
I could only slow you down

_______

silence
full of love and irritation of love
desire for power
to overbear and to attaint
desire without any purpose

not an empty square but beautiful circle
describes the finger of inspiration
Inspiration dressed in lace
 caramel color
 color of cream and coffee
banana flakes
placed in a pure hand of a girl

embroidering it's sword right in my heart
my heart is its end
but who could start from the end

permeance

possibility

hope

silk point of a needle
clear glass
gaze
breath

lack of a kiss

and billions of small ways
to wrap in a mist
the bullet-proved desire