Three new poems, 29.07.2024.

Earrings

Childlike rainbows
rise from the polaris sky
crowding brains
with surprise and exhibition
charming people with illusions of birth
ill fusions
death rainbows
rising from the polaris city
they seem occupied with essence
but fate is not bothered
it swings by the swings
on which childlike rainbows hang
like a fool to his tarot cards
like a Gypsy woman
to her earrings

Persepolis

I climb the column
spy from the sand storm
I cry for life
beyond the desert eternal sunset
I crave for seas
but they haven't been here in ages
before the flood
this wasn't a tomb
this wasn't a city
this wasn't a temple
rather
some sort of a power plant to enlighten
the third eyed wanderers
on their quest for water
before the flood
before us
there was this holy
Persepolis

Therapy

Sand on sand
virtue on virtue
fast on fast
we terrorize our spirit with knowledge
where wisdom once carried
the joints of Rome
golden spliffs and stolen riffs
carried troubadours beyond the city walls
and into Bombay
this is for you, Brian Jones
lost child of a million white butterflies
legends of death cycle
this was for you always
who never wrote a song
hard to complete the circle
with no dots given
just paint it, like modern elders
some sort of
therapy

"Crystal Child" (New poem, 16.07.2024).

There's a snail trail in my head
highways for god
he sometimes takes the wrong turn
and then my thoughts explode

when he's on his course
my thoughts do nothing and wait
close to depression
close to desperation

vacation was good when I was younger
helped to clear out the brain
but I can't afford vacation anymore
it's just like wasting time

I regret having these connections
is it truly best to regret something you have done than something you haven't?
I'm not sure
but my connections were pain

escape from pain was more connections
impossible
vacant trails of god again, who is he in the first place
to take place in my spirit

my spirit should be crystal
thoughts reflected and calm
just like at birth or shortly after
just watching the trees from a crystal child's ride.

"1981 Again" (New poem, 6.07.2024).

New heads and old ideas
chicken's heatwave
I feel like a heart attack

ants parade through my brain
ejaculating the city
hot concrete on spikes

hamburger eating lady
can't save her children
from hunger

hunger fuels old ideas
and making money is the only
reality

after you make enough, you die
and build yourself
a peaceful lagoon

but who will live there?
Peaceful hungry children in debt
or the children of their children?

who will visit the poppy blower
in another life?
there is no another

so new heads bob away
to a Grandmaster Flash song
and suddenly it's 1981 again.