Thousands years of delusion

Thousands years of delusion



…in our wasteland

I wouldn’t remain- a Consciousness

in the upcoming Dystopia

New hidden prophets which recently

the Abys ejected wave to Men,

a blister/ an armor without self

create godlings with the man-names

which cares handbags of blue whale

which they’ve killed long time ago and

the Ambergris looted, and to

a Moschus glands and out of Civet…

I wouldn’t stay…

not to meet that old oak tree

while I walk the forest and

tread the dried leaves

my feet slides and I hear cracks

of boughs beneath the decay

and not be welcomed by hand

which from the Heart flows

the courtesy and from the Soul

the weeping that tears apart the sky

the path of the eagles which draw

the road for us invisible while

my flabbergast goes beyond

the white clouds while I still care

a book under my armpit because

I believe in Word told for some

three hundred thousand years


Let they remain…

the clones, the hybrids

the holograms, the humanoids

here will not be a place for us Sweetheart,

we’ll be taken to the Mid-World

where everything is seen but

is unspeakable I’ve said long ago

that we lack terrestrial vocabulary

for the celestial quest

Instead of wine perhaps we shall drink

the percolated emulsion of the waves

that goes through the darkness

of the Universe

We’ll recall the pearls of sweat

on the foreheads of our progeny

while they played till the late hours

just before the evening prayer and

the wasps zooming in their hair

the Shar’s cheese and the black tea

drinking on the balcony with

the chirping voices of cicadas

in the background, the rose petal jam

and the pumpkin cooked with

the grape syrup from our wine yard

a rabbit mother- absent,

in search for the food,

we’ll recall too our search for God

yet He’s absent or in us hidden

who knows?